He sat his coffee cup down and returned his attention to the pancakes. The aroma filled the kitchen and her smile told him that she approved.
"This is lovely." She said, her eyes sweeping over the breakfast table. "Why don't I put these out?" She reached for the pitchers of milk and juice and carried them to the table.
And when she returned, she waited for him to finish taking a sip of his coffee before gently taking the cup from his hand. "I'll carry this for you too. Unless you'd rather me carry the tray."
"Nonsense, Daphne. Allow me." He carried the tray into the breakfast room and arranged the contents on the table. They sat down to eat and ate in silence, save for a few small sighs. To his relief, she seemed content, but he worried that she was still upset again. And so he decided to ease into conversation as gently as possible.
"How do you like your room?"
She said nothing, her eyes downcast, as she ate her pancakes. And he couldn't help but worry.
"Daphne, are you all right?"
She looked up, as though he'd interrupted her thoughts. "I-I'm sorry. What?"
He smiled. "I was asking if your room was to your liking."
"Oh yes, it's lovely." Her voice was dreamy, for lack of a better word. But it warmed his heart just the same. "The view from the window is just-."
"It's incredible, isn't it? Sometimes when I'm here alone or when I've been here with…." His voice trailed away, as an image of the woman he'd sent off to Atlanta filled his head.
"Mel." She said quietly.
"Right, Mel. Um. Well, I…" He fidgeted in his chair, wishing that he hadn't brought up his fiancé's name, even absently. He knew that he'd broken his promise to call her every night. Last night when he couldn't sleep would have been the perfect time, given that it was much later in Atlanta than it was in Washington State. But he hadn't been thinking about her then and he'd barely thought about her since they'd parted at the airport. He could only imagine the anger that she would hit when he finally got a chance to call her, but he'd deal with that when the time came. It wasn't something that he was looking forward to, but he did his best not to think about it.
"These pancakes are wonderful, Dr. Crane."
The compliment lifted his spirits and he smiled. "Thank you, Daphne."
He hoped that her compliment would give way to meaningful conversation, or any conversation for that matter. But she said something further, bringing silence between them once more.
"Daphne, may I ask you a question?"
"Of course, Dr. Crane."
He thought for a moment before speaking. "Daphne, would you say that we're friends?"
Her worried expression and the way she laid her fork on her plate told him that he'd phrased the question correctly. She swallowed hard. "Well, unless you've changed your mind…"
"Nonsense. I would never-I care about you, Daphne. I always have and I always will." It was as close to a declaration of his love for her as he had ever come.