Megan dreamed the night before that Paul's mother was lost at sea and no one could find her. Megan ended up living with Paul because she was the only person he trusted. She ended up being his guardian. Megan got the house and the money...and Smed came back because he knew she couldn't take care of Paul, all on her own. She needed him.
But the reality of it, Paul's mother was back and Megan had two weeks off before she started spending afternoons with Paul again. She was thinking it might be best for all if she moved in as Paul's full-time nanny. It would be so simple. And it might be the answer to everything. She'd still take classes and be there for Paul.
However, Megan was alone now, doing her best to put her things away. Of course, she never really liked putting things away, but it was something to do. Finally, she dropped on the bed, trying to remember if it was like she remembered. It was not a perfect bed. But it was their bed. She hoped there would be Smed's scent, but their wasn't. The sheets were new and bright pink. They smelled of lavender. It was as if he'd done it intentionally. He knew how she felt about lavender.
She went to check out his side of the dresser. Empty. She slammed the drawers shut, wishing he'd left something behind, but he didn't. Megan felt herself melting slowly. Before she could have a good cry in full throttle, there was a knock on the door. Alex was holding up a summer floral dress.
"What do you want?" She hadn't meant to be so livid. Then she remembered the date Alex made for her with Dung.
"Its for you." He said it was vintage. It looked old. The bodice was white and sleeveless, but the skirt of it was a sweet print of lavender.
"Where did you get it?" She tensed, thinking he was her fairy godmother, after all.
"Does it matter?" He smiled. "Just try it on."
"Why?" This was aggravating.
"You've got white pumps, don't you?" He asked.
"Maybe." She sighed as she gave the dress a look over. "You shouldn't have." She finally told him, but looked at the dress once again, biting her bottom lip.
"I'll fix your hair." He was in her room now, looking for ribbons and bobby pins. She shook her head, no.
"You might like it." His smile was genuine as if he really wanted her to be Cinderella.
She looked at him as if he'd really done it this time, but she did like the dress. She loved it, in fact. "Well, turn around." She had to get into it and she didn't want him watching, as she stumbled out of her jeans and Tee. She pulled the dress on, and he zipped it up for her. It fit like a glove.
"What are we having?" She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering just how formal this dinner would be.
"I'm starting with a cold potato soup." He told her.
She didn't know if she could eat in this dress. She wasn't sure she could do anything in this dress, but he was already on to her hair, pulling it back as little curls slipped forward. Still she felt so tired, so sad. It wasn't going to be easy to smile.