Dante glanced at him with surprise. “He wanted you to ask that for him?”
“Francis has issues with rejection,” Russell said quietly. “His family turned their back on him when they realized he preferred men to women.” He smiled wryly and added, “In a way, he was more alone than I when we met. I, at least, had my family.”
Dante nodded. “I am sure Mary would enjoy his company when we shop. But . . .” He hesitated, not wanting to offend either man.
In the end, he didn’t have to figure out a way to word his request. Russell grinned and suggested, “But you want to ensure he dresses her like Barbie and not Stripper Barbie?”
Dante nodded with relief, and then grinned and said, “Not that I would mind one or two Stripper Barbie outfits for at home.”
“But the majority of the clothes should probably be more Next-Door-Neighbor Barbie,” Russell said with amusement. “I understand completely and shall pass that along.”
“Thank you,” Dante said with a smile.
“Give us a shout when she wakes up and wants to go. I shall talk to Mortimer about arranging someone to take over the gate.”
“There will probably be no need,” Dante said, glancing toward the house and the window of the bedroom Mary inhabited. “I suspect she will sleep through the night. We probably will not shop until tomorrow afternoon.”
“Just call then and we’ll come,” Russell said and slapped his shoulder before turning to head back around to the front of the house.
Dante watched him go, and then turned to see Bailey walking back toward him, her duty done. He squinted his eyes and watched her legs carefully as she walked. She was not yet used to the somewhat clunky cast, and it slowed her down a little, but as he had said to Mary, she wasn’t limping at all.
Thoughts of Mary made him pat his leg.
“Come on. Let us go check on our Mary,” he suggested and turned toward the house.
Bailey immediately turned toward the house and began to move more quickly. In the end, she reached the door before he did and waited patiently for him to open it so that she could rush inside and up the stairs, eager to see her mistress.
Mary was woken up by more than eighty pounds of dog leaping on top of her. It was accompanied by angry whispers in Italian that could only be Dante, she thought with amusement, as she reached out to pet her dog and try to calm her.
“Oh, Dio mio, do not pet her, Mary. Go back to sleep. She is being bad waking you, and you are rewarding her,” Dante said with exasperation.
Chuckling, Mary rolled onto her back to see him approaching the bed.
“I know. I guess I’m just a bad mother,” she said with amusement, absently stroking Bailey’s head as the dog laid it on her stomach.
“Your fangs are out,” Dante said rather than respond to her comment.
Pausing at the side of the bed, he opened the hidden refrigerator and grabbed a bag of blood and then climbed onto the bed on the other side of Bailey. He passed the bag of blood over to her and then curved around Bailey so he could lay his head on the pillow next to Mary’s.
Gripping the bag of blood, Mary sat up and ran her tongue cautiously around her teeth. Yep, there they were, long and sharp and apparently hungry again, she thought with resignation and slapped the bag to her hungry fangs. They did seem to constantly be popping out on her. Every time she woke up she seemed to have to consume the red liquid, and usually several bags of it.
“How is your head?” Dante asked as they waited for the bag to empty.
Mary raised her eyebrows at the question, wondering how he expected her to answer. But then he asked, “Does it hurt?” and she was able to shake her head in answer.
“Good,” he murmured, toying with the top of the blanket covering her. “And you are a wonderful mother, Mary. Bailey is lucky,” he added, finally responding to her comment of a moment ago. “And our children will be too. I have no doubt you will spoil them at times. But you will discipline them too, and they will always know they are loved.”
Mary stared at him silently. She had been smiling around the nearly empty bag at her mouth, but now that smile faded and tears glazed her eyes. Mary immediately turned her head away from him so he couldn’t see the tears. She was relieved when she could tear the bag away from her mouth a moment later.
When Dante immediately took it, she began to fiddle with the edge of the blanket covering her and muttered, “What’s this talk of our children? I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, mister. Heck, I’ve only known you for a couple of days.”
Dante caught her chin and turned her head toward him. He peered at her silently for a moment, taking in her glassy eyes, then said solemnly, “It was a week yesterday that you ran me over. True,” he added quickly, his fingers tightening to keep her in place when she started to turn her head away again, “You have slept through most of the week.”