After dinner that night, Kevin lingered behind when the rest went downstairs to practice. He was debating whether he should offer to help with the dishes or not. He knew if he asked, she would tell him no. Instead, he just started helping her.
"Oh, you don't have to do that," she said.
"What if I said I wanted to?" Kevin asked her, a plate in each hand. She cocked her head to the side and looked at him for a moment.
"Far be it from me to stop you from doing something you want to do." she said and filled the sink with water. She started piling dishes in the sink.
Kevin brought all the dishes to the counter for her and then took the table cloth outside and shook it. He put it back on the table.
"Where are your dish towels?" She pointed to a drawer. He opened it and pulled out a towel.
As she washed, he dried the dishes and stacked them on the counter for her. They worked together in silence. Occasionally, their arms would touch. Kevin felt comfortable. He had washed dishes with his mom for as long as he could remember.
"How long have you lived here?" he asked.
"Almost nine years."
"And before that?
I lived with my Aunt.": she said and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "What about you? Are you from around here?"
"I grew up near Madison. I moved to Chicago to find a band to play with. My mom still lives up there. She was expecting me home this week.
"What did she say when you told her where you were?" she smiled as she scrubbed at a pan.
"She told me to be careful." Kevin laughed a little.
"Yeah. I'll bet she did." Sarah laughed back.
They finished the dishes in silence.
"Thanks for your help," she said and began putting the dishes away.
"No problem." He watched her for a moment and turned to go downstairs.
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