Page 50 of Refuge for Flora

“I should get up now. She’ll be up soon and she’ll need some help.” Flora wiggled from his grasp and climbed out of the bed, never looking back at him.

“Hey.” It took a few seconds, but she finally turned to look at him. “We good?”

Her voice was flat. “Yeah. We’re good.”

“Flora. Flora, look at me.” It seemed to take forever for their eyes to meet. “I wasnotcalling you a liar. I just wanted you to know that nothing’s been reported to the sheriff’s department there.”

“I don’t care. It happened. And I don’t want to talk about it anymore or I won’t be able to keep anything down. Please.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” As soon as he’d scooted out of bed, he followed her up the hallway, but she opened the door to Mrs.Murphy’s room, stepped in, and closed it behind her, so Barrett headed for the kitchen. He set the table with the things he could find in the cabinets, found some syrup and butter, and set about heating up the skillet he found to cook the pancakes.

There was a rustling sound behind him and he turned to find Mrs.Murphy shuffling into the kitchen, Flora right behind her. “Hey, boy, you cookin’?”

“Yes, ma’am. I sure am. How many pancakes do you want?”

“Two. Big ‘uns. The bigger, the better.” The old woman sat down in the chair Flora had pulled out from the table, and scooted up with the younger woman’s help.

“Comin’ right up. Babe, you got orange juice or anything?”

Flora pulled a bottle from the refrigerator. “I’ll start some coffee.”

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them sat around the table, and it was the first time in forever that Barrett could remember eating breakfast with someone. Thinking back, it had to have been when he and Jessica… He pushed that out of his mind, willing it all to go away. Was that how Flora felt about her life? It most likely was.

Mrs.Murphy had settled into her recliner and they were cleaning up the dishes when Barrett asked, “So you want to use my computer today?”

“If you don’t mind.”

His lips grazed her cheek and he smiled when he pulled back. “I don’t mind at all. You know that.”

“And what if I find something that makes you look like you don’t know what you’re talking about?”

Barrett stopped, a plate in one hand and a dish towel in the other, and gave her a look that he hoped she could understand. “Baby, I want to believe you. Idobelieve you. It just sounds so… I dunno, warped? Twisted? Sickening?”

“Yes. It was all of those things and in my mind, it still is. I’ll never forget that. Believe me, I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

“I get it. And I’m sorry. Nobody should have to see that. But you’re here now, and that stuff isn’t going to touch you again.”

A loud sigh escaped her lips and she shrugged. “You can’t guarantee that.”

“I’m going to do everything I can to make that true.”

She snatched the plate and towel from his hands and plunked them down on the countertop before turning to face him, her back against the cabinets. “What are we doing here? Playing around?”

“I told you, I don’t play around.”

“Then what is this? The beginning of a relationship? Or something to do until somebody else comes along?”

Her skin was warm through the thin gown as he gripped her waist with his hands. “After the other night, thereisnobody else. I’m not looking for anybody. Hell, I wasn’t looking foryou, but you just kinda dropped into my life, and I’m not unhappy about it. Not one bit.”

“But with this kind of baggage?”

“Sweetie, we’ve all got baggage. You saw mine. He was standing right in front of you. But I’m not afraid of yours. Are you afraid of mine?”

He could see her turning the question over and over in her mind. “No. Should I be?”

“No. No reason.” His hands slid from just above her hips and around until he could clasp them behind her and draw her in. “No reason at all. That’s over.”

“But he’s still coming around?”