Heart's Desire

Chapter 8 - Monty

The first thing I see when I return from my trip to the store is that Kit is a bloody mess.

The second is that there are blackberries everywhere, which explains some of the 'blood.'

Some, but not all. Kit looks like he crawled through a thicket of thorns, which, it would appear, is exactly what he did.

His borrowed clothes lie clean and neatly folded on the table, and he stands in my kitchen, naked and scratched head to toe, but grinning shyly as he offers me a bowl of plump, dark berries.

"I picked them for you, Monty," he says. "For Grace."

"Oh, Kit..." I set down my grocery bags and look around at all the bowls and containers filled to the brim. "You shouldn't have."

His smile falters. "I... shouldn't?"

"No. Not on your own. And not all at once." I sigh. "And what am I gonna do with these now? It's too much."

"But you said... Grace would make the pies and jams..."

"Yeah, but making pies and jams is a lot of work. I'd-a checked with her first, made sure she had the time for it." I rub the back of my neck. "Besides, I was looking forward to picking 'em with you."

His expression shifts from confusion to raw distress, and he takes a halting step towards me, but the bowl slips from his grasp and falls to the floor.

Fortunately, it's plastic, and just bounces, but berries fly everywhere, and Kit drops to his knees.

"P-please — I — I'm s-sorry," he gasps, scrambling to collect them. "I'm sorry. I c-can't put them back. But p-please — please don't make me leave!"

"Make you leave? I'm not gonna make you leave." I go to him and lower myself at his side, grasping his bare shoulders and forcing him to sit up and stop. "Hey, now — calm down. It's okay. They're just berries, Kit, and I'm not mad. It's only... Well, why'd you do all this, anyway?"

He looks up, eyes wide and watery in his berry- and blood-stained face.

"I thought it would make you happy," he whispers.

"Make me happy? Kit, you don't have to make me happy," I say. "And seeing you all scratched up certainly won't do it."

"But all the b-best berries were down by the creek." He sniffs. "I didn't want to m-miss them."

I rub my hand over my mouth, careful not to smile. As tragically misguided as he is, there's something adorable about him, too.

"Okay, well... let's get you cleaned up. That'll make me happier than I am now, anyway."

"It will?" He brightens.

"Yeah. Come on."

I help him up and lead him to the bathroom, turning on the tub. Kit stands in the doorway, shifting from side to side and eyeing the bath uneasily.

"What's the matter now? Haven't you had a bath before?"

"Yes. But the water here is... rather cold," he says, wiping at his nose.

"Cold? Why would bathwater be..." I catch on, and sigh. "Kit, please tell me you took a hot shower yesterday?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't know it was allowed. They never let me use the hot water at home."

I make a face. "A hot bath makes life worth living, sometimes. Come on—get in."

I hold out my hand, and after a brief hesitation, he reaches for it and lets me guide him into the tub. I feel a little tingle of warmth at his trust—like he's a timid animal that finally let me get close.