Peggy swung back through and finished tinkering with the waffle iron.
The Judge watched her intently, almost as if she was hurting him rather than helping him. He was so focused on her that he botched a couple of orders that Harry silently slid back across the service window for a re-do.
When Peggy finished, she’d patted the Judge’s shoulder with an easy familiarity before leaving again.
The Judge’s idea of a lowered voice carried easily across any room, but this time Harry barely heard the old man when he sighed and spoke to himself, “Well, that’s that then.”
Then looking up, he caught Harry watching him.
“Waffles will be back on the menu come Monday,” he made it sound unimportant, but Harry could see that it worried him.
Unable to ask why, Harry simply nodded in acknowledgement and
