‘Sure. It’s fish and chips on the menu for tonight—would you like me to go and get a takeaway from the kitchen?’
‘Sounds good. Have they got any tomato sauce?’
He got to his feet, smiling. ‘I’ll bring some.’
* * *
This was comfortable and reassuring and...all of the things that you wanted if you were feeling a little low. Someone to just take care of you, without going into all the details of why it was your fault that you got hurt in the first place, and how getting straight back up again would be the best thing to do.
Laurie had just slid into a pair of loose sweatpants, still warm and relaxed from her bath, when Ross arrived back with two large portions of fish and chips, along with condiments and a roll of fabric under one arm. She fetched two plates from the kitchenette and set about unwrapping their food.
‘That’s pretty.’ Ross had unrolled the fabric and she could see now that it was a quilt, the central portion of which was a stylised rendering of what looked very much like this house, complete with trees and the lake.
‘Mum sent it. She has loads of these, she’s always liked to sew when she sits down in the evening. She reckons that handmade quilts are the best medicine when you’re not feeling so good, so she sent one over for you.’ He shrugged diffidently. ‘Not a lot of medical basis there...’
‘What do you mean? It sounds like solid reasoning to me.’ There was the element of care in it, which everyone needed from time to time. ‘Are you telling me that your mum’s quilts didn’t see you through a few childhood illnesses?’
Ross grinned suddenly. ‘More than a few. Some of my adult ones as well, although I don’t admit to it. Not really needed in this weather, though.’ He was clearly being careful not to push any unwanted concern onto her.
But it wasn’t unwanted. Unfamiliar maybe, and Laurie had rejected it up till now because she hadn’t known quite what to do with it. But it made sense of the way that Ross ran the clinic as a nurturing community. He’d learned all this when he’d been a child.
‘Nonsense. It was really sweet of her to send it.’ Laurie sat down on the sofa, spreading the quilt across her legs. It was a little warm, but it felt comforting to tuck it around her.
They started to eat. She should say something... Thank him, or tell him how much all this meant. She didn’t have the words. It wasn’t until Ross had cleared the plates away that she plucked up the courage.
‘I’m...not very used to being looked after like this.’ Ross had probably already gathered that. No one looked after people who had the kind of attitude that Laurie did.
He nodded. ‘I’d worked that one out. The courts don’t usually allow kids to decide who they want to live with, unless there’s a good reason.’
‘I didn’t... It wasn’t my fault...’ She could feel panic rising in her chest. ‘My father said that I was making it all up, but I wasn’t.’
The warmth in his gaze seemed to turn to fire as soon as it touched her skin. ‘It never occurred to me that it was your fault. You want to tell me what really happened?’
Yes. Yes, she did.
‘My father was a runner when he was young. He reckoned he’d stopped because of an injury, but now I think he just wasn’t good enough. He always said that he’d been robbed of a good career in athletics and he wasn’t going to allow the same to happen to his kids. He was very determined.’
‘Living out his own aspirations through you?’
Laurie nodded. ‘I think so. We got to pick our sports, my brother chose tennis and I chose rowing because I liked the water. But there was no room for failure, and no room for anything else either. I wanted to succeed, but I wanted to be a doctor as well.’
‘And he didn’t approve of that?’ Ross’s tone was even, but the flash of derision in his face showed how he really felt.
‘No. I was supposed to move to part-time schooling when I was sixteen so that I could concentrate on my training. There was no time for anything other than sport, and...’ Laurie shrugged. ‘My aunt was very different from him, and she said I could go and live with her and stay on at school. She was the one who fought him and helped me leave.’
‘Your advocate.’ Ross’s lips curved into a smile.
‘Yes. She was the one person who really cared about what I wanted. If I can be half as good an advocate for Adam and Tamara...’ Laurie shrugged.
‘You’re doing just fine.’
‘Sometimes I wonder. There’s only so much that a person can do to change. I tell Aunt Suzy that she’s responsible for the best in me, but that my father had me for fifteen years. When I fell just now, the only thing I heard was his voice, shouting at me to get up. That was always his thing, you fell down and you got straight up again.’
‘Which is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’ Ross’s disdain sounded loud and clear in his voice. ‘Getting up again is a matter of giving someone the support to do so.’
‘Which is what you do here.’
He nodded. ‘I can see how you might feel that’s overly intrusive.’