Worked on Adam and his dilemma all day so feel like just posting a bit more. This is after Adam's agreed to accompany Casey to the premier of her new movie and been bullied by Orisi into bathing.
----
Adam just sighed as the bubbles drifted over him, like a blanket. He sipped some OJ and bit into a cookie ... and stopped in mid-chew. "I'm sorry," he said, "would you and Dumpling like a biscuit and some juice?"
"Thanks, I'm fine. But, Dumpling, would you like some?"
Dumpling worked his way off the counter and toddled over to grab at the cookies, his black eyes never leaving Adam. That is when Patricia barged in with a fresh plate, saw Dumpling about to bite into a cookie and swooped him up in one arm as she set the plate down. Then she took the cookie from his hand, grinning.
"Oh, I've got something lots better for you, honey," she said. "Cereal! With bananas."
"Thanks, Pat," said Julie. "But he likes tea with half milk and two lumps. And do you have porridge?"
Patricia gave her a completely blank look so Adam piped in with, "Oatmeal."
Patricia brightened up. "Right! I use that for the cookies." She tickled Dumpling into giggles as she chirped, "I gots some straws-berries and blues-berries and you'll like it lots more." Then she carried him from the room.
"He won't vomit, again, will he?" Adam asked.
Julie smiled. "No worries. Solid ground."
By this point, the mass of bubbles had covered Adam up to his chin, so he turned off the water and leaned back in the tub, forcing himself to relax.
"What is it people like about bubble baths?" he murmured, deep and growly. "I feel as if the oily residue left on my skin is meant less to cleanse and more to fill my pores with petroleum by-products, thus enhancing the possibility of pimples."
"Manny and I love them, but we use a light soap and rinse off, after. Dumpling ... he accepts."
"Too bad I've no access to a shower."
"What about these buttons?"
Adam looked at a set of colorful dots atop the right edge of the inner basin. One had a shower icon next to it. "Do you think it is?" he asked.
"Try it," said Julie. "Just keep this hand safe till it's dried."
"We'll have to see what happens," he said, looking at the ceiling tiles. "Where is Manny in all this?"
Julie cast him a sly look. "Next room, being all Fan-Boy."
"With Casey Blanchard? He's heard of her?"
Julie giggled. "If he had known it was she you were coming to see, he'd have crawled into your lap before Dumpling had a chance, and discussed her films and career the entire flight. Puts her on a scale with Angelina Jolie and Sigourney Weaver, he does. One of his mates let the cat out when he said, Bitches who can beat you to a bloody pulp, and wouldn't ya love it? Our first date was to see ... which was it... Sky Knights, I think. It's hard to keep track; we own every one of them, and Dumpling has slept through Ilithium Four twenty-seven times."
"You might want to make that twenty-nine," said Adam.
Julie whispered the first touch of henna across the tops of his fingers as she said, "I'm counting yours, sweets."
"Oh."
"You really didn't know who she is?"
Adam shrugged. "I'm not much of one for film. I read. Prefer it. There's something permanent about a book. Steady. Comforting. But I can't really tell her that, can I? It'd be like dismissing her entire career."
"She's been around long enough to handle it. Manny says her first job was when she was ten, on a sit-com. The Family Saint. For the first year. Played a neighbor's daughter on several episodes. We have that on Blu-Ray."
"Dear God, Manny is fanatical."
"But he's my fanatic."
Fifteen minutes later, she had set the mandala and a car was returning her, a reluctant Manny and a sleeping Dumpling to their hotel, and Adam was draining the tub. He found another dry face-cloth, turned his right hand palm up, draped the cloth over it and pressed the shower icon, using his left hand.
----
Adam just sighed as the bubbles drifted over him, like a blanket. He sipped some OJ and bit into a cookie ... and stopped in mid-chew. "I'm sorry," he said, "would you and Dumpling like a biscuit and some juice?"
"Thanks, I'm fine. But, Dumpling, would you like some?"
Dumpling worked his way off the counter and toddled over to grab at the cookies, his black eyes never leaving Adam. That is when Patricia barged in with a fresh plate, saw Dumpling about to bite into a cookie and swooped him up in one arm as she set the plate down. Then she took the cookie from his hand, grinning.
"Oh, I've got something lots better for you, honey," she said. "Cereal! With bananas."
"Thanks, Pat," said Julie. "But he likes tea with half milk and two lumps. And do you have porridge?"
Patricia gave her a completely blank look so Adam piped in with, "Oatmeal."
Patricia brightened up. "Right! I use that for the cookies." She tickled Dumpling into giggles as she chirped, "I gots some straws-berries and blues-berries and you'll like it lots more." Then she carried him from the room.
"He won't vomit, again, will he?" Adam asked.
Julie smiled. "No worries. Solid ground."
By this point, the mass of bubbles had covered Adam up to his chin, so he turned off the water and leaned back in the tub, forcing himself to relax.
"What is it people like about bubble baths?" he murmured, deep and growly. "I feel as if the oily residue left on my skin is meant less to cleanse and more to fill my pores with petroleum by-products, thus enhancing the possibility of pimples."
"Manny and I love them, but we use a light soap and rinse off, after. Dumpling ... he accepts."
"Too bad I've no access to a shower."
"What about these buttons?"
Adam looked at a set of colorful dots atop the right edge of the inner basin. One had a shower icon next to it. "Do you think it is?" he asked.
"Try it," said Julie. "Just keep this hand safe till it's dried."
"We'll have to see what happens," he said, looking at the ceiling tiles. "Where is Manny in all this?"
Julie cast him a sly look. "Next room, being all Fan-Boy."
"With Casey Blanchard? He's heard of her?"
Julie giggled. "If he had known it was she you were coming to see, he'd have crawled into your lap before Dumpling had a chance, and discussed her films and career the entire flight. Puts her on a scale with Angelina Jolie and Sigourney Weaver, he does. One of his mates let the cat out when he said, Bitches who can beat you to a bloody pulp, and wouldn't ya love it? Our first date was to see ... which was it... Sky Knights, I think. It's hard to keep track; we own every one of them, and Dumpling has slept through Ilithium Four twenty-seven times."
"You might want to make that twenty-nine," said Adam.
Julie whispered the first touch of henna across the tops of his fingers as she said, "I'm counting yours, sweets."
"Oh."
"You really didn't know who she is?"
Adam shrugged. "I'm not much of one for film. I read. Prefer it. There's something permanent about a book. Steady. Comforting. But I can't really tell her that, can I? It'd be like dismissing her entire career."
"She's been around long enough to handle it. Manny says her first job was when she was ten, on a sit-com. The Family Saint. For the first year. Played a neighbor's daughter on several episodes. We have that on Blu-Ray."
"Dear God, Manny is fanatical."
"But he's my fanatic."
Fifteen minutes later, she had set the mandala and a car was returning her, a reluctant Manny and a sleeping Dumpling to their hotel, and Adam was draining the tub. He found another dry face-cloth, turned his right hand palm up, draped the cloth over it and pressed the shower icon, using his left hand.
Glass walls rose up between the two basins and several ceiling tiles shifted to reveal tiny shower nozzles. He set the tap to going ... and a moment later, water rained down on him. He was just able to keep his right hand out of its way as he leaned back and let the whispery warmth cascade over his head, face and body, bringing him a tender peace.
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