And-shortbread-cookies-what-am-I-supposed-to-pick-up-now?-The-printer-and-Rachel’s-meds-the-prescription-is-in-my-pocket-what-else?-Get-back-to-Yossi-about-the-apartment-tickets-to-Italy-yes-what-time-is-it-gosh-already-eleven-the-morning-flew-by.

I looked at all the devices I’d fixed. There was only one printer, small and black. I picked it up and approached the counter.

“Yes, that’s the one,” he said, pointing at the printer. “You guys are the best.”

“He’s the best,” Benny said, slapping me on the back. I nodded and returned to the back room. I stared at the radio and decided it was enough. I wasn’t going to turn it on again.

At around five o’clock, Benny said he had a wedding to attend and left me alone in the shop until closing time. I stared at the customers coming and going, telling myself I wasn’t at all interested in what they thought. But at 6:23 an older woman walked in. She was looking for an iPhone case, standing there in a puffy down coat and red sunglasses, studying the case selection. I asked her if she needed any help. She lowered her sunglasses and gave me a once-over. It was clear she was looking at my receding hairline, probably thinking how ugly I was. I told her I was popping into the back room to fetch something. I walked in and tuned the radio to her station. I had to know.

The-black-case-isn’t-that-bad-fucking-Amos-going-and-breaking-up-a-family-after-twenty-years-throwing-it-all-away-and-for-what-actually-the-silver-case-is-nicer.

She walked up to the cash register as I came out of the back room. I gave her a twenty percent discount without even telling her.

“Everything okay?” I asked softly.

“Perfect, hon. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.”

“Honey, why did you ask?” She looked at my hairline again. It pissed me off.

“Because of Amo—” I wavered, falling silent.

“You a friend of Amos’s?”

I didn’t reply.

“He already told everyone, huh?” She put her hand on her neck, fondling a colorful necklace. I bagged the silver case. She snatched it from my hand.

“Tell your friend he’s a fucking loser,” she said and walked out of the shop. The noise from the radio gradually died down.

I stood rooted to the spot for a while. Then I called the old man to let him know the shipment from Germany had been delayed and it would take at least another month. He said a month was a long time, and I asked if he wanted me to cancel the order. He hesitated for a moment, and said no. That Nechama wouldn’t have wanted that. He hung up. I’m not sure whether I was pleased or disappointed.