People have left endless amounts of gifts, and Harper hadn't begrudged the receptionist leaving early once the desk had practically flooded with offerings and well-wishes, even if it meant having to pick up the slack in her absence. The door that leads to the inner sanctum of his home - and now Maeve's once more since she has returned and is recovering - is uncharacteristically open as Harper shepherds gifts inside in waves. He has just set down a new tea kettle in the kitchen when he hears a masculine voice calling from the doorway, making him lift his head and crane towards the entry despite knowing he can't see from that angle.
Emerging clearly frazzled but with a genial smile, Harper closes the distance between them. George is a vaguely familiar face, but most native Torchers fall in that category given how active and constantly patrolling he was as a councilman before his election. "Hey, that would be me. Sorry, the receptionist threw in the towel for the day." Not that he can blame her given the amount of times he has already been interrupted. Glancing down at the neatly organized basket, he makes a general motion of taking it without actually touching it yet. "She's resting right now, but I'm bringing in all the gifts for her to open when she wakes up. Want me to take it?" A few people have asked to be able to hand it off directly, so he waits to see if the man will decide on that course of action instead before proceeding. "Oh! I'm Harper, by the way." No sense in forgetting his manners - or worse, assuming people know him. That kind of arrogance is not even remotely in his wheelhouse.
Emerging clearly frazzled but with a genial smile, Harper closes the distance between them. George is a vaguely familiar face, but most native Torchers fall in that category given how active and constantly patrolling he was as a councilman before his election. "Hey, that would be me. Sorry, the receptionist threw in the towel for the day." Not that he can blame her given the amount of times he has already been interrupted. Glancing down at the neatly organized basket, he makes a general motion of taking it without actually touching it yet. "She's resting right now, but I'm bringing in all the gifts for her to open when she wakes up. Want me to take it?" A few people have asked to be able to hand it off directly, so he waits to see if the man will decide on that course of action instead before proceeding. "Oh! I'm Harper, by the way." No sense in forgetting his manners - or worse, assuming people know him. That kind of arrogance is not even remotely in his wheelhouse.
Harper
