How Green Becomes Wood

"I'm thinking for Father's Day I may hire him a cleaner," Daizi said, "I know he's worried about when I'm working full time because it means on slow days I can't have her play in my office while he can get more work done. And I know he doesn't always give himself enough downtime."
 
"I'll give you the number to my cleaner," Sally promised. "She is an absolute godsend! If I did not have her coming to do the major cleaning, that's all Jake and I would be doing in our downtime, and I would much rather spend that time with my family or even just resting."
 
"I would be glad for it," Daizi told her, "Thankfully, Ivy loves trying to help, so if we say it in the right way, she'll put her toys in her bin, and she likes putting her clothes in her hamper. Dark bought her a tiny broom so she sometimes makes a game of attempting to sweep. He's been working on teaching her to clean since infancy, just about."
 
"Hmm, I feel as though there might be some joke in there about gender roles, but I am no comedian, and therefore dare not tread in those snake-infested waters," Sally said in a clearly teasing tone. "Truly, that is so good that he's helping her so soon!"
 
"I'd have concerns about that, were it not for the fact she's being taught to clean by her stay-at-home father who does most of the cleaning," Daizi pointed out with a little chuckle, "It's hard to internalize cleaning as 'women's work' when you learn the chores by doing them with your father while your mother is at her job all day. Really, though, he's just trying to prevent grey hairs however he can, or at least that's how he explains it to me."
 
"He gets some, they all come in through here," She gestured like a stripe on the left side of her hairline, "There aren't too many, and he says he plucks them out when he sees them because they're so few. They have a different texture than his normal hair. He's going to have a stripe one day... Work was okay. It was hard, at times, but overall I was glad to be back. I think I'm glad to be going back tomorrow, but it's also still... an adjustment, I guess."
 
"The interns are all new," Daizi answered, "so I'm trying to get to know them. I've messaged with a lot of them, but not enough to really recognize who they are, so they have to keep reminding me of their names. Other than that... My office doesn't smell like how I left it, but my coworkers warned me the incense scent had all faded. Just about everything is where I left it, though, I wasn't supposed to go on maternity leave yet. With Ivy being born prematurely, I came home from work on Wednesday and was in labour on Thursday. One of my favourite coworkers collected some of my belongings for me when I started working from home, so I didn't need to go in for it, and I guess I had left a half-drunk cup of tea on my desk that they kindly washed out for me. In a way it's like coming back to life. There are all those stories about people who died suddenly or tragically and their room remains untouched for years, and it's odd, because I've been working for most of this time, just from home, like it was the pandemic again. Most of my coworkers, I've worked remote with before."
 
"It sounds as though everything is the best it could be, circumstances considering," Sally remarked. "I am glad that you were able to function so well after so long away and that your coworkers are trying to help you reacclimate. I don't think any of my coworkers would do that. No, I tell a lie. Two would do their best, but one of them is a true absent minded proffessor with good intentions and terrible follow-through."
 
"My coworkers have always been really great," Daizi said, "We're all social-science people, so most of us are... Well it'd be stereotypical of me to be specific about the sort of people we are."

As she said this, Dark came into the room with their nicest tea tray, set with a metal tea pot and clear, stemless glasses rather than porcelain tea cups. Arranged along with the tray were Sambousek bil Jibneh, a savory cheese-filled pastry, and Basbousa, a sweeter pastry. He knew Sally loved and missed Egypt, and of course his beloved wife felt similarly, so he put together the most Egyptian tea tray he could manage (resisting every urge to include more Iraqi choices, although in this instance, it was rather similar). No milk was included on the tray, but there was small dish of cane-sugar cubes with tongs and long-handled spoons.

"Here you are," He said (standing there in his nice fit clothing with his beard that was only just growing back, but was long enough he no longer looked messy, as he had when Lex had seen him), feeling really quite pleased to have gotten to do something kind for his wife, "The tea is hibiscus, rose, and mint."

"Is that the one Amty Fadia had sent us?" Daizi asked.

"Yes, I thought you might like it."
 
Sally laughed at Daizi's statement about stereotyping the group and fell quiet when Dark walked in. She did not clock the change immediately, admiring the tea tray and noticing the strong Egyptian theme to it. "Oh, this is lovely!" she said, looking up at Dark. "The tea sounds- Good heavens you're bald!" she blurted in shock. She put her fingers to her mouth to stop herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean... you have shaved your beard. That is very... very different. Indeed. Is this a... new look?"
 
"Shukran, Goose," Daizi said, and might've said more had Sally's exclamation about her bald husband not sent her cackling with her head tipped back.

The faintest bit of amusement came into his eyes at Sally's comment, which either demonstrated he was very fond of Sally deep down or that he wasn't as despondent about his personal tragedy as he had been a week or so ago, "Bald seems like an exaggeration." He told her dryly, "It is my temporary look, but I suppose it is accurate to call it new."
 
"I see," Sally said, staring at Dark. It took every bit of her strict upbringing to not outright ogle with her mouth open, but she was still staring. "It is quite a different look for you. Not that it is at all a bad thing, only that it will take time to get used to it. You will likely have your beard grown out before I am used to this look. You... do intend to grow it back? I should not assume."
 
He absolutely noticed her openly staring, which struck him as odd. Folding his strong arms across his chest---the fabric of his shirt doing nothing to disguise the way his muscles moved beneath it---he said, "I am already working on growing it back. A little over a week ago, my dear sweet daughter took it upon herself to get a toy stuck in my beard, and I was forced to shave it off. So now I am," he waved one hand casually, "at the mercy of genetics."
 
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