Reid never looked up.
When Harold left, Reid came into the break room.
“I think I’m in love.”
I turned from the coffee machine.
“Excuse me?”
“With competent administration.”
Marian appeared behind him.
“Keep it professional.”
Owen nearly choked.
The morning moved more smoothly than any I remembered since coming home.
Phones rang.
Marian answered.
A delivery arrived.
She checked it against the order and found two missing components before the driver left.
Reid worked on a ferry junction box without interruption for almost an hour.
Caleb completed a customer estimate.
Owen finished the shore-power unit.
I did two hours at my bench and stopped when my left hand began to tremble.
No one had to force me.
That was progress.
At lunch, Marian handed Reid a printed email.
“Insurer needs a decision on the replacement service vehicle.”
The atmosphere in the room shifted.
Not dramatically.
But enough for everyone to feel it.
Reid looked toward me.
I looked at the paper.
The van.
My van.
The last place I remembered being alone before the world broke.
