Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Helena sighed and began again, “I was thinking of getting a bottle of wine…” Her fingers clamped together as she watched Dylan’s expression.

“What, from the store?” Helena nodded in response. “I could go.”

“No, no, that’s fine, I’ll go…of course, if you don’t mind staying here with the children…” 

Dylan offered Helena a small smile and shook her head, “I don’t mind at all. Are you sure, though?” She could sense the Brit was torn, but eventually Helena merely nodded and rose from her seat, stating she’d be ten minutes whilst pulling on some boots, safe in the knowledge that Dylan had been a good friend of Andrew’s for years and so leaving her with her children wasn’t such a ridiculous idea.  

The front door caused a cool breeze to travel quickly into the living area. The coolness enticed the toned skin beneath Dylan’s shirt to ripple into goosebumps. Retreating into herself a little so as to fight off the temporary cold, the tanned Californian dropped her head against the back of the couch. The screen of the television flittered and shone with adverts, the bright colours causing a contrast so stark to the dim, low-key lighting of the film that they provoked her eyes into stinging at the mere sight. 

Left alone, now, Dylan allowed her minds to overanalyse her situation with Helena. Her heart thrummed and sang every time the Brit glanced her way, but Dylan could tell Helena wasn’t yet ready for a relationship even if hadn‘t have told her herself. Having never been divorced before, she couldn’t fully understand what kind of mind frame Helena plummeted into when it came to relationships, but empathy supplied her the sufficient tools to discover that the Englishwoman was still learning to walk with only two feet again. 

A creak from above disturbed Dylan from her untangling of impossible questions and she glanced towards the ceiling as if she might see through to the floor above. Waiting silently, now, Dylan reached for the remote and reduced the volume on the television before glancing back above to the ceiling. Padded footfalls could be distinguished over the sound of the advertisements, followed by another creak, this time of a door. Figuring that one of the children had awoken, Dylan waited a moment, unsure as to what to do exactly, before she rose from her seat and headed for the foot of the stairs.