Clay's Hope

Eleven

Gabby shuffled out of her room. She hadn't fallen asleep until early morning. I hadn't slept well either, thanks to the love noises coming from Rachel and Peter.

I followed Gabby closely, unhappy that Peter was not only still in the house but also taking a shower. Gabby didn't seem to notice. She went straight to the fridge, stood in front of the open door for several long minutes, then looked around the room. Her gaze locked onto the orange juice container in the recycling bin.

She glanced at me, and I wanted to shake my head in denial. I had nothing to do with emptying that drink. I had tried a sip of it once, just to see why she liked it so much. I'd left it alone after that. She shared enough with me already.

A noise in the bathroom diverted Gabby's attention. She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes in that direction, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

"Great. Another non-coffee person," she said.

She shuffled to the faucet, grabbed a glass, then tipped the handle. She started to mumble as she jiggled the handle in earnest. It wobbled loosely, and the water didn't come out like it usually did.

"Looks like I'll have to call the hottie plumber back," Rachel said as she walked into the kitchen.

"No, thanks," Gabby said quickly. "And no big guy showing two inches of crack, either." She turned off the tap with only a third of her glass full. "I was going to go pick up Clay later, anyway. I'll have him look at it."

Excitement coursed through me. She wanted me to wear my skin again.

Rachel looked up in surprise from the coffee tin. "Really? No-talk, leave-early Clay?"

Quiet woman, I thought, not liking the skepticism in her tone.

"Yeah, that one. Not the dog."

"I believe you said you didn't think he'd be around much," Rachel said with an odd grin.

She really needed to stop talking. I didn't want Gabby to remember that.

"Don't remind me. I'm probably going to need to beg."

Not likely. I doubted Gabby would need to beg me for anything ever.

"Does he know much about plumbing?" Rachel asked as she moved to the sink to fill the coffee pot.

"Don't know...we don't talk much."

Although she said it with humor, I knew that really bothered her. I watched her set her glass aside.

Soon, Gabby. We'll talk soon.

* * * *

After Peter and Rachel left, Gabby emerged from her room dressed for the day.

"Wanna come shopping with me or stay here?"

Silly question. I walked to the door, and she drove us to the grocery store. As usual, I waited in the car as she strode across the parking lot.

It took almost an hour for her to reappear; and when she did, she moved fast as if she expected someone to come tearing after her. I watched behind her closely. No one was following her.

She caught my gaze and smiled at me. Then her gaze drifted to the truck pulling into the spot next to us. I turned and saw a man getting out. His determined, possessive expression had me tensing. What was it with human men around Gabby?

"Hi, there. Need a hand?" the man said as Gabby stopped her cart near the trunk of our car.

"No, thanks. I got it."