Ira didn’t look up from his diligent printing, just murmured innocently, “Nothing you’re not used to, I’m sure.”
Ira was conscientiously filling out the forms, but not quite enough that Alida’s account of their blizzard adventures couldn’t elicit an absent grin from his face as he worked. That little girl was a double whammy of sweet and smart. (Much like Ori, though in his sister’s case the former was more than a little subtle sometimes, and it was rather more accurate to tack an “-ass” on as a suffix to the latter. Which reminded Ira that he’d have to somehow force Staas’ swear jar rule on Ori around the kids. He wasn’t sure who swore more, his sister or his friend, but either way the children would at least benefit from it.)
Emi calling him to the name the Mooren children had dubbed him made Ira smile in surprise and duck his head as he started rifling through his coat for his driver’s license. “Of course. But it’s just Ira.” He produced an old leather billfold from his inside pocket, flicking the card out of its plastic sleeve and handing it to her. “Here it is. Thank you.”
Ira was already mostly done by the time Emi had stopped him to ask for his ID, so it was only a couple of minutes after she’d left that he finished up the last form. Capping the pen, he shuffled through the papers, going over them one last time with a cursory glance as he did. Satisfied that all was in order, he set them down on the table and looked up (up!) at Staas with a bright expression. “I think I’m done. Feel free to look ‘em over, see if anything’s wrong.”