Page 47 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

Then another while I suggested moving the driftwhisp encounter to week four.

By the time we’d mapped out the full eight-week schedule, he’d eaten four more cookies. Good thing I’d made a couple dozen.

He reached for another one and paused, looking down at the container. “I’ve eaten most of the cookies. Again.”

“You have.”

“You should have some.”

“I made them for you. I have more at home.”

He picked up the cookie but didn’t eat it. Just held it, staring at me as if I’d said something profound.

I turned his tablet so we could both see it, and pointed.

“Look,” I said. “We did it.”

The creature component of the curriculum sat there, complete.

We both stared at it.

“This is good,” he said.

“It is.”

“We made this.”

“Together.”

I looked at the document, then at him, then at the nearly-empty container between us, realizing I’d need to bake more cookies. Perhaps my almond sugar cookie recipe, the ones with almond icing and colorful sprinkles. I could use my flower cookie cutter.

“Why do you always change my organizing back?” I asked softly, having noticed yesterday that he’d—again—put the filing system back to the way it was when I arrived.

His tusks scraped across his upper lip. He set the cookie down, but his gaze remained on the tablet. “Because I built those systems. I know why they are the way they are. Most people don’t. I don’t expect them to.”

I bit down hard to hold myself together. “But you could explain why you use them. If someone asked.”

His fingers drummed on the table. “No one’s ever asked.”

“I’m asking,” I said.

His fingers tightened around the edge of the table and he leaned closer⁠—

The door banged open. Krem strode inside, holding his usual clipboard, sporting a full-tusked grin.

“Good news,” he said. “Brovish just told us the school coordinator loves the plan. She wants to move faster than we thought. The first visit will be in two weeks.”

“It’s not much time to get ready.”

“It's very exciting.” He flipped a page on his clipboard, squinting at it. “Also, a family is coming a week from Saturday to meet our puddlewump pair. Brovish and Laina are going to the ocean that weekend and won't be here. The rest of us have an intake to pick up in the orc kingdom and won't be back until late that Sunday. Could you two handle this adoption?” His gaze shot to mine. “If you don't mind coming in that Saturday for an hour or so. They said ten would work well for them.”

“I, um…” I looked down at my notebook.

Krem flipped the pages back on his clipboard. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” Traig said.

“Yes,” I said at the same time.