take that away from her. She cried softly then, thinking of what Brock had just taught her, and she turned on the shower, and let it run across her head and down her shoulders, and in warm sheets across her body.
She put jeans and a sweater on, and the short wig she had left on the sink that morning, after she shook her own hair out of it. And then she walked into the kitchen barefoot.
“You don't have to wear a wig for me,” he smiled, “unless it makes you feel better.”
“I feel weird without it,” she admitted.
He had made scrambled eggs and toast and fried potatoes. The potatoes were too much for her, but she struggled with the toast and the scrambled eggs, and managed to eat a little. But she didn't want to push her luck and spend the rest of the night sick in the bathroom. Her stomach was a disaster but she suspected that for once Sam was right, and it was due to emotions.
They sat quietly together in the kitchen for a while, and then Alex told him that Annabelle had loved all her presents.
“It was fun buying them,” he said, “I like kids.” He smiled at her, relieved to see her eating.
“Then why aren't you married?” she asked, toying with her eggs.
“Bartlett and Paskin never gives me time,” he grinned, looking boyish and very handsome.
“We'll have to start lightening your caseload,” she teased him.
They talked for a while, about what the holidays had been like, and how difficult things had been with Sam, and then he cleared the dishes.
“You don't have to do that, Brock. I can do it later.”
“Sure, why not? Able to leap buildings in a single bound, right? So what about Vermont? I didn't come here for my health, you know. I came here for yours.” He looked her straight in the eye, and as always she was grateful to him.
“I don't think so.”
“I'm not giving up. Liz thinks it would be good for you too,” he said firmly.
“What is this? A committee?” She laughed, amused suddenly but touched too. “Doesn't anyone care what I think?”
“Frankly, no.” He discounted her veto completely.
“Don't you have anyone real to spend this week with?”
“You look pretty real to me,” he said, with a determined look, and she shook her head and pointed at her wig.
“Don't let this piece of fluff fool you. I'm too tired to ski, I'm too old to woo, I'm too sick to be fun, and besides, I'm married.”
“Not from the sound of it, or not for long anyway.” He was being very blunt with her and she was still laughing.
“That's a nice thing to say. Well, let's say, I'm used goods.” And then she looked at him in amusement. “Are you telling me you're asking me as your date?” It was obvious she didn't believe that, and he laughed too.
“No. But if it makes you feel better to think that, be my guest. I'm asking you as a buddy, a buddy who would like to see you get that pale face in some sunshine, and sit in front of a fire and keep warm and drink hot chocolate, and go to sleep at night, knowing she's with friends, and not alone in a lonely apartment in the city.”
“You make it sound pretty good, for a kid your age.”
“It is. And I have a lot of experience in the care and feeding of old bags like you. My sister was, is, ten years older than I am.”
“Give her my condolences,” she grinned. “You sure make it difficult to refuse.”
“That's why I came to see you,” he said, looking down at her with a gentle smile, and she was reminded again of how much she liked him.
“I thought you came for a free meal,” she said, still laughing at him.
“I did, but I came to talk to you too.”
“It must have been pretty boring in Connecticut.” She was relentless with him and he was loving it. They knew each other well, and had fun together.
“It was boring in Connecticut. So are you coming, or what?”
“You mean I have a choice? I was beginning to think you were going to throw me over your shoulder and take me.”
“I might, if you don't act right.”
“You're really crazy, you know. The last thing you need, is me puking on you all the way to Vermont, and then sick as a dog when we get there.”
“I'm used to it by now,” he smiled, “I wouldn't know