|Like anywhere else, New Island sees its share of rough weather, |
which may persist for days on the southern coasts.
Alan was speechless, and then he stuttered...
"Michelle! How, um... Wow!"
"Well, I hope you're glad to see me."
"Oh, yes...yes I am. Come on in, I'll take your pack and your coat." He hung up her dripping coat on a hook by the door, and helped her take off a large backpack he didn't know she owned.
"Oh, you're pretty wet," he said. I have some dry clothes, or a robe if you want to change."
"That would be nice."
Then he practically ran into his bedroom and put some some sweat pants and a flannel shirt on his bed. "The room is yours," he said, "I'll make some tea," and then just as briskly he went into his kitchen to heat up the kettle.
She came out a few minutes later, her wet hair combed back, and looking tired yet robust after being in the weather.
"How are you feeling?" he said, as he stood in the kitchen doorway.
"Tired, weary, and very glad I made it. I uh, hope I'm not disturbing anything..."
"Oh no, I've been sitting here for several days, really, waiting for this rain to let up so I can continue my sketching assignment. You're lucky I wasn't out there somewhere."
"Got a hug for me?" she asked.
So they stood there for several minutes while the kettle began to shriek.
"Here, let's sit, he finally said, and he poured the hot water into two large mugs. "I hope you like Scottish Breakfast..."
"Oh, yes, anything is fine actually." Um, do you have anything to eat? I only had a snack on the train ride."
"Oh, sure, sure...um, how about a couple of eggs and maybe pancakes? I'm getting hungry too.
"That'll do it," she said with a grin.