13
Rest
Meredith
WHEN HIGGINS AND I ENTER with the trays, the Captain’s coming out of the bathroom, stark n***d, smoothing back his wet hair.
“Whoa, Higgins,” he says when he catches sight of him.
“Relax, Cap’n. Ain’t nothing I ain’t seen before.”
“Sorry, Merry,” the Captain says, snatching up his discarded shirt and holding it against himself. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“Captain, I could say the same as Higgins,” I say with a laugh. It sounded a little forced to me but no one else noticed.
As we put the trays down on the table by the windows, the Captain edges his way out of the room backwards, shielding himself with the shirt.
“He is coming back?” I ask Higgins as the door closes.
“Better be after all this cooking on my day off. Gone to get some clothes, I expect.”
A
