The dockworker immediately becomes fascinated by his soup.
I pour coffee into the reinforced mug Darlene ordered from a warehouse supplier after the noble death of our old stool. The mug is technically designed for equipment operators who work in exo-rigs, which means it looks almost normal in Kauss’s hand. Almost. He crosses to the end of the counter where his new stool waits, a squat industrial monstrosity with black bracing, ugly legs, and absolutely no romance in its soul.
Darlene pats it as he sits. “Morning, chair killer.”
“I did not kill the first stool,” Kauss says.
“It died because of you.”
“It was weak.”
“So was my third husband, but I still blame the stairs.”
Kauss accepts the mug from me with both hands, careful as always. “How many husbands have you had?”
“Depends who’s asking and whether the statute of limitations has expired.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting before coffee.”
I set a plate in front of him: eggs, potatoes, two rolls, and the last slice of savory tart. “Eat.”
“I ordered coffee.”
“You looked hungry.”
“I always look hungry to you.”
“You are seven feet tall and built like a military transport. I’m being practical.”
His brow shifts. “You insult me often.”
“That wasn’t an insult. Military transports are very reliable.”
“Large. Loud. Expensive to maintain.”
“See? You understand yourself perfectly.”
For one glorious second, his mouth curves at the corner.
It is not much. On anyone else, it would barely count as an expression. On Kauss, it might as well be fireworks over the harbor. My heart gives a stupid little hop, and I turn toward thepastry case before my face betrays me badly enough for Darlene to start composing a wedding toast out of insults.
Too late.
Darlene leans close as I rearrange almond twists that do not need rearranging. “Honey, if you grin any harder, your bruises are gonna peel off.”
“I am providing customer service.”
“You are providing foreplay with carbohydrates.”
“Darlene.”
“What? I’m old. I can identify patterns without being delicate about it.”
“We are not dating.”
“Uh-huh.”
