Gwen let him go, but reluctantly; she'd prefer nothing more than to collapse right here on the cool tile floor with him and sleep for a blessed week, but there were still chores to be seen to before either of them could snatch a bit of their own rest. Back in the kitchen, Gwen put together a semi-coherent grocery list for her mother, fishing out her credit card even though Marie wouldn't hear of it and made her put it back. It mainly consisted of meat--thick cut and lean, sirloin chops, steaks, as well as pork loin, a few roasts, as well as apples, plums, pineapples, oranges, mangoes, and some strawberries, just for herself. And perhaps Owen, if he wanted some, too.
She saw her mother out the door and down the street before trudging upstairs, hearing the shower running in the "kids'" bathroom, and had just enough foresight to grab a couple of bathrobes out of the hall closet before closing her old bedroom door on the rest of the world. She did pop in her brother's room for a quick visual check on Blue, but retreated back through the bathroom to the other bedroom, leaving the navy bathrobe for Owen as she passed.
Her old bedroom was still full of her old keepsakes, pictures here and there, both of family and Gwen herself: photos of her late father were more common, as were single pictures of Gwen--sitting atop a bright bay horse holding a blue ribbon, displaying her high school diploma with honor braids, standing with her mother and holding her veterinary credentials in graduates gown. As well as other snapshots of her and the family, some together, others not. The mirrored vanity held her father's dogtags, as well as a framed photo of him in his Marine dress blues, and no less than four Ribbons of Merit and several Silver and Gold stars, as well.
Her mother had opted for a rather colorful quilt for the bed; Gwen dimly remembered it being a gift from her grandmother, ages ago. But right now, it looked like the deepest-feather Italian comforter on the planet. She gave a deep sigh, then plopped down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her shoes and closing her eyes, waiting rigidly upright for Owen to come out of the shower.
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She saw her mother out the door and down the street before trudging upstairs, hearing the shower running in the "kids'" bathroom, and had just enough foresight to grab a couple of bathrobes out of the hall closet before closing her old bedroom door on the rest of the world. She did pop in her brother's room for a quick visual check on Blue, but retreated back through the bathroom to the other bedroom, leaving the navy bathrobe for Owen as she passed.
Her old bedroom was still full of her old keepsakes, pictures here and there, both of family and Gwen herself: photos of her late father were more common, as were single pictures of Gwen--sitting atop a bright bay horse holding a blue ribbon, displaying her high school diploma with honor braids, standing with her mother and holding her veterinary credentials in graduates gown. As well as other snapshots of her and the family, some together, others not. The mirrored vanity held her father's dogtags, as well as a framed photo of him in his Marine dress blues, and no less than four Ribbons of Merit and several Silver and Gold stars, as well.
Her mother had opted for a rather colorful quilt for the bed; Gwen dimly remembered it being a gift from her grandmother, ages ago. But right now, it looked like the deepest-feather Italian comforter on the planet. She gave a deep sigh, then plopped down on the edge of the bed, kicking off her shoes and closing her eyes, waiting rigidly upright for Owen to come out of the shower.