Commitment

Part 47

"And ate it where, exactly?" Gray pushed.

"Does it matter." Regan snapped, then held out her palm, when she noted the four people's reaction. "Sorry, didn't mean to snap." She tried to gather her composure and hedged with another ambiguous response, "I ate between home visits."

Loretta and Sam shared a look.

Loretta took up the challenge, "No offence, Gray, but we have more things to talk about for the fundraiser."

Sam looked at Regan and explained softly, "We're trying to figure out if we can get some quality stuff for the stalls that Caro has organised for a fundraiser."

"Oh. Right." Regan threw him a grateful smile. At least he deflected Gray's topic. Not for long.

Gray got to his feet and mumbled, "I am getting you some food."

Loretta and Sam shared a look. Caro blinked. Regan scowled.

"I don't need food."

"Remember, the last time you told me you had eaten, I found you having toast at midnight!" He quirked an eyebrow.

She huffed. He left the room before she huffed and got to her feet, "You are not my keeper and I am not your keeper!"

Sam patted the chair seat, "Regan, please sit. He can get you something, you don't have to eat it. Ok. He is just worried about you."

Caro narrowed her eyes. He was worried about Regan, why? As Regan said, he is not her keeper.

Recognised the room was a tad cooler now, so Loretta again tried to reestablish the conversation about the fundraiser.

Loretta told Regan. "Caro is donating some of her old stock from the shop." Loretta added in a voice full of admiration for her boss' generosity, "But we need to bulk up, so that we don't run out of stuff. We are collecting good second hand stuff." And Loretta continued to describe the intended event, while the other three were lost in their thoughts.

Regan was trying to find a way to leave the room before Gray returns. Caro was trying to find a way to shoo Regan from the room before Gray returns. Sam was trying to find a way to keep Regan in the room to ensure she was here when Gray returns.

Five minutes later, Gray returned with a plate, with a stack of cheese sandwiches and he heard Loretta's assertion, "You know items that people buy on a whim, maybe wear once or not at all, and then it gets hung in the back of the wardrobe."

"Oh, right." Regan remembered those days fondly. Now all her clothing was used often. Most of it was functional and all of it was old. But her eyes tracked Gray as he placed the plate in front of her. She mumbled, "Thank you."

Gray nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm sure Regan could donate clothing from her wardrobe." Gray proposed as he retook his seat.

"Me?" Her eyes flicked up to meet his, and her tiredness meant she was slow to hide the concern reflected in her eyes.

Rabbit and headlights came to mind, Gray thought as he watched her rein in what he considered to be puzzling anxiety. "Yes, you must have clothes that you could donate to the stall. It's for a good cause." Gray pushed, wondering why she was being so reticent. Gray watched Regan's reaction closely, and was surprised to see that behind that façade of poise, she looked miserable and worried. It was in her eyes. She looked really unhappy. Then she avoided eye contact.

"Yes, I am sure it is a good cause." Regan began, hesitantly as she ransacked her tired brain for an excuse that would appear palatable. She needed time to think, so she reached for the sandwich.

"But?" He prompted, sensing her hesitation and wondering why his request appeared to be causing her to look depressed.

Regan pointed at her mouth, as she deliberately chewed the sandwich.

Gray banked his retort: obviously you were hungry!

She squirmed, kept chewing, while the rest watched, and then she fixed a deprecating smile to her lips as she said. "My stuff isn't trendy." That sounded like the perfect opt out clause. She felt very happy with herself for being able to come up with that statement given how tired and unhappy she felt. She took another bite of the cheese sandwich. He was right, she was hungry. She had eaten, but her dinner was a packet of crisps, four hours ago.

"It's good quality clothes we want." Loretta corrected, completely unaware of the undercurrents and thinking she was setting Regan's mind at ease. "It doesn't have to be trendy." She said quietly. "In any case, vintage is trendy!"

Regan began to feel even more self-conscious. Her clothes were old and she'd already sold some of her clothes at the up market second hand store in Hamilton when they'd needed that thousand dollars. Selling her eveningwear had brought in several hundred. What she had left were functional clothes that she needed! Old, functional clothes. In any case, once Caro saw them she'd know that they were old, not vintage, just old!

"You aren't keen to contribute?" Gray prompted seeing her hesitate. Obviously she wasn't going to volunteer items.

"It's not that, exactly." She avoided eye contact. The last thing she wanted to admit, in any company, let alone present company, like Caro, was that she couldn't afford to contribute. She was barely making ends meet. What surplus did she have to share? "Look, erh, I'll have a look." She squirmed, took another bite and chewed the bread and cheese as if it was nectar.

"Or you can donate foodstuffs for the tombola or raffle." Gray pushed, trying to figure out if she objected to the event or was just being difficult because it involved Caro.

Behind her palm, currently held in front of her mouth, she mumbled between chews. "Right."

"Or if you'd rather not do that, you could just donate cash, and Caro could use it to buy stuff for the stalls." He told Regan and watched her face for a reaction. He saw her eyes widen at that comment.

Regan nearly choked. Cash? Obviously the man thought she minted money. His words were stillworking through the fog in her brain when she re-heard the word, only to find it was her voice, "Cash." 

Gray narrowed his eyes. He was dealing with a feminine equivalent of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.