Chapter 7; Greg

The kitten bobbed her head, as though answering his question in the affirmative then lowered her chin to the milky tea. The tea was cold, but that was all right. She wouldn't have liked the tea to be burning hot, just a little warm would have been fine too; she was used to her mother's milk, which had been warm.

Humbert stared at the kitten for a while, trying to figure out if the small brown life had actually nodded, or if it had been his imagination.

Eventually he decided that dwelling on it wasn't helping, and fixed his own lunch. He was just about to sink his teeth into his sandwich when the doorbell rang. He wasn't expecting anybody, and Louise never rang the doorbell, well, she hardly ever did. She usually just yelled for him or let herself in if he'd left the door unlocked.

It was Louise, and Greg. Louise was crying, and Greg was holding onto her protectively.

"We had to tell someone," said Greg, gently ushering Louise through the door and into Humbert's house. "We're getting married," he said.

"Congratulations," Humbert said, bewildered. "Such happy news, why do you look like something terrible happened?"

Louise brought her face away from Greg's shoulder. There was a large bruise on one side of her face.

"My father," Louise said, anger flashing through her tears. "He –" she couldn't go on.

"He doesn't approve," Greg finished, holding tight to the woman he loved. "He expressed himself rather violently, I stopped him from doing any more and got Louise out of there as fast as I could, but…" now he couldn't go on either.

"Come on in, stay as long as you need to," Humbert said, guiding them to the kitchen. He ignored his sandwich, carefully didn't tread on the kitten and got an ice pack and a tea towel. He wrapped the ice pack in the cloth and handed it to Greg, who gently applied it to Louise's bruise.

"Want anything to eat?" Humbert offered, laying the bread out on the bench and reaching into the cupboard for thing to spread on it.

"Chicken salad? If you have it," Greg answered, still holding Louise close. He had her sitting on his lap while he sat on the kitchen chair.

Humbert jerked his head at his own sandwich. "That's chicken salad," he said. He didn't need to add that he hadn't touched it yet. It was obvious from the wholeness of the thing.

Greg nodded in return. "Thanks," he said, but he didn't reach for it. "Louise? What about you?"

"Just some tea for me thanks," she said now holding the ice pack for herself. "You go ahead, I'm not really all that hungry."

Greg nodded his understanding and, turning so that he wasn't eating in Louise's face, took a bite out of the chicken salad sandwich.

Humbert put the tea on and made another sandwich for himself, but he didn't eat it. He poured Louise her hot drink, and gave her a friendly hug, but rather than sit down with his friends, he went to his living room and started dismantling the couch.

The sound of springs could be heard, and a heavy, muffled sound, then the flapping of large amounts of cloth. Greg carefully shifted himself out from underneath his fiance and went to see what Humbert was doing: the couch had folded out into a bed, and Humbert was just laying sheets and blankets on.

"I mean it, stay for as long as you need to," he said quietly when he was done, laying a hand on Greg's shoulder as he went back to the kitchen for his sandwich.