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* * *
It was close to seven o’clock in the morning after they had delivered the girls to Saint Anne’s and then returned to the hospital to wait for the parents who were coming to collect their daughters. Laura took the onslaught of many irate parents who felt her inapt as duties of temporary guardian and putting their children at risk. While the other half lavished her with gratitude and praise.
Utterly drained and tired, she stood alone in Dexter's bedroom. Sighing in exhaustion, she walked over to the large bed where a cheerfully white quilt welcomed her. Dolefully, she sunk on to the only soft thing in the room. Dexter's bleak fashion sense consisted of a black dresser with the simplest blue vase perched on top of it, an oversized two-door chest also in black and a matching night table. A rounded headboard and slate grey splattered walls completed the somber look.
With the excitement of the evening finally behind her, her mind took the down time to unwilling start to wallow in the memories of the tragic events. Wanting nothing more than to blot out the images of her burning home, she took the large T-shirt Dexter loaned her lying across the bed. She went through a side door that housed an ensuite and gave herself a good cleaning with the soap and towels provided, then slipped into the T-shirt.
As the soft material slid over her head, she detected Dexter's familiar scent. Clutching it close to her skin, she took a deep breath and inhaled the balmy aroma. She wanted nothing more at the moment than to have him take the place of the shirt and cradle her in his arms. With a desolate sigh she dropped her hands and went back into the bedroom.
Knowing Dexter, as she came to know him, moments like tonight as he held her in his arms and comforted, would not occur again. His heart was tough and she knew there was no getting through.
Surprisingly, this time around anyhow, sleep came easily when she placed
her head on the pillows and closed her eyes, all thoughts of the fire, the house, and the man put to rest temporarily.
* * *
The following morning, Laura felt uncomfortable rummaging through Dexter's cupboards, but her growling stomach demanded she feed herself. Thankfully, she unearthed a box of cereal almost immediately as well as a bowl and spoon. In the fridge she found a carton of milk and some orange juice.
She had just seated herself on one of the tall breakfast stools, when a tall dark form came stalking into the kitchen. Looking up surprised, she laid her eyes on Dexter's perturbed glower.
“Where the devil have you been all day?”
Startled, she didn't say anything directly but instead shifted self-consciously in her stool, suddenly aware of the shortness of her makeshift nightie.
Dexter noticed her movement and dropped his eyes aimlessly. The T-shirt she wore, the one he loaned her the night before, revealed far too much skin. She noticed a pulse twitch in his grim jaw as he took in the long expanse of revealing leg stretched from beneath the hem of the shirt down to the floor where her bare feet scarcely touched the polished tiles.
Feeling uneasy under his scrutiny, she attempted unsuccessfully to pull the hem down lower over her exposed legs. The action seemed to get his attention, because he suddenly jerked his head back up and immediately dropped the shutter over his emotions.
“Well? Where were you?”
“Right here.”
“Then why in blazes didn't you answer the phone?”
“You phoned?”
“Yes.” Angrily he stamped further into the kitchen and dropped the bag he held onto the kitchen counter. “Twice. Why didn't you answer?”
“I was sleeping. I didn't hear the phone.” She absorbed his handsome but angry good looks. “Why did you call?”
“What do you mean, why did I call'? Why do you think?” He snapped.
She shook her head.
He muttered something under his breath as he turned abruptly away.
“Pardon?”
He swiveled around once more. Opening his mouth he was about to say something then changed his mind. Instead, he turned to the bag he dropped on the counter. “There’s a change of clothes in the bag. After you're done eating, change and get yourself presentable. I'll take you down to the insurance company.”
Her eyes drifted to the parcel and noticed the name of the very classy and extravagant ladies department store. “You bought me something?”
“Well you weren't planning to wear that today, were you?”
She blushed and self-consciously attempted to pull the hem lower again. “I'll pay you back, as soon as I can.”
“Whatever.” He shrugged her off, then noticed the bowl in front of her. “Is that going to be enough to eat?”
