There he was, getting ahead of himself again. Malachi's smile displayed an embarrassment he did not mind feeling, for a change, and he nodded along in clear approval of Nettie's plan. It made more sense, the way she wished to go about it. He had already been thinking long-term as soon as she'd said it, in part because it pleased him to think of her finding that kind of success in a place like this -- a place he actually wanted to be in, himself, and that he hoped she would learn to love as well.

"It seems to be a good plan, to me," agreed Malachi. "Let me know if I can help you with any of it. Not that... I would be all that helpful with the actual work, I suppose."

No, he would sooner stick his fingers through with the needles than sew a garment properly. Dexterous as his fingers were, they were better suited to the turning of thin pages these days, or the caress of... ah, not that, not that. In came distraction. He swatted it away (metaphorically) as best as he could and focused on the street ahead of them.

"How is your father?"

A normal question, if one he only asked on occasion. Malachi did care for their family, and appreciated hearing about them when he could, but felt that it was not his place to inquire too often.