Re: log: connie/atticus
"Not surprising with all the woods. Surprised there aren't more annoying apple-themed events, given all the dead orchards." Atticus, who'd legitimately thought everyone saw dead people when he was young, was somewhat uncomfortable around all those orchards. Made no sense, but Atticus wasn't big on questioning. And the thought was gone nearly as soon as it came, followed by a grin when she said she'd find a trombone song to play for Emily. "She won't be able to resist us."
Idly, he watched the pictures flip by, and he put together a good mental image of Connie's life. He didn't ask where her mother was, but he did reach a hand for the phone when the tall figure came into view. But she put the phone away, and he was left with a moment to think about the image. He didn't ask about it. Might sometime, but not just then. He'd gotten her to talk a lot tonight, and it felt like enough. "Sounds like a great kid. Did a good job with him." Because Atticus couldn't even begin to imagine being responsible for a child. He was barely responsible for himself.
He laughed about the lemurs, and he reclined on the couch with arms along the back, watching with lazy inattention as she put the jacket on. "Could always put a lemur rescue out back. Think about it." He could've been joking, and he could've been serious. One thing was for sure, he wouldn't actually care much if Connie rescued lemurs in the backyard.
"Don't work too hard. It's against the rules." He waved at her with one hand, without lifting it off the back of the couch. "Thanks for the snickerdoodles."