“I know.”
“You’ve been standing here washing all of this?”
She looked down.
“Not all of it.”
Marcus glanced at the mountain of dishes.
“Most of it.”
She gave him a tired little smile.
“Your mom asked if I could help.”
Marcus stared at her.
“And everyone else is…”
“Watching TV.”
He looked toward the living room.
He could still hear them laughing.
Something tightened in his chest.
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“You were working.”
“Elena.”
“I didn’t want to bother you.”
Marcus lowered his voice.
“You could never bother me.”
She smiled again.
But this time there was something behind the smile.
Something Marcus couldn’t quite identify.
He reached for the sponge.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I’m almost done.”
“Give me the sponge.”
She finally handed it to him.
Marcus turned off the faucet.
“Go sit down.”
She hesitated.
“Marcus…”
“Please.”
There was something in his voice that made her stop arguing.
She dried her hands.
Then slowly walked toward the living room.
Marcus watched her go.
He noticed how carefully she moved.
How one hand instinctively supported the underside of her stomach.
How she paused for half a second before stepping over the doorway.
Then he looked back at the sink.
