"If you two wouldn't mind helping me get him down to the car I know a doctor I can take him to." Charles said.
"Yes of course we will help you." Melissa said instructing her cousin to put her dog up in the bedroom. As she spoke to Oliver. "Now you come with us, we are going to take you to the elevator and get you back downstairs." she explained in her sweet southern voice that did Bengiman Pruce's heart good to hear.
"Thank you Miss, you are very nice to me." Mr.Pruce said in a voice that was sweet and kind. Charles had never heard him interact with a female so civilized before and this worried Charles who thought some-
thing was terribly wrong with him.
"Oliver grab the paintings, and be careful. please." Charles instructed Oliver who was still wearing his bathrobe and slippers. He did as he was asked and Melissa and Charles helped Mr.Pruce up and out of the filthy, smelly apartment and the four slowly made their way down the hall. As they waited for the elevator Melissa insisted on receiving a bill for Mr.Pruce's medical care, to which Charles refused profusely. There was a bit of tension in the air on the elevator and Mr.Pruce looked down at the soft, strong, tall woman he had his arm around and smiling asked her "Have you ever had an egg dropped in a hot, strong cup of coffee pretty lady?"
Melissa looked up at him smiled and said "No, I sure haven't."
"Oh," he sighed "You should try it sometime, the heat cooks the egg..," he trailed off, lost in a memory. Charles began to worry about him again. "Yeah." Mr.Pruce went on "Me mum used to make that for me when I was a little boy, when I wasn't feeling well." Charles had never, in all the years he had known Mr.Pruce, ever heard him speak one word about his mother. He had assumed with Mr.Pruce's severe lack of all charm,style and sophistication he had been raised on the streets of London. Charles knew Bengiman had suffered a concussion, but to what degree he could not be sure until he took him back to his house.
When the little group made it down to the busy street they were greeted with a few stares as the two helped Mr.Pruce into the passenger's seat and Oliver, in his robe and slippers, placed the large wrapped parcel of paintings in the back seat; where he lovingly placed the seat belt around them and said goodbye to his creations. All while Melissa slipped Charles her private telephone number insisting he call her and let her know how Mr.Pruce was doing. Charles took her number and placed in his wallet as he slid his wallet back in his pocket she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek saying she hoped to see him again, real soon, and she wished him well. Charles embraced her tightly holding on a little too long, but he had not touched a woman, in any way, shape, or form, in several months and he thoroughly enjoyed the simple pleasure of a hug from a beautiful, sincere woman. She smelled of jasmine and gardenias and the scent of her made his pulse quicken. Charles promised he would call Melissa and as he pulled away from the curb he stared at her long, well toned, tanned legs in the rear view mirror nearly running a red light in doing so.
"Yes of course we will help you." Melissa said instructing her cousin to put her dog up in the bedroom. As she spoke to Oliver. "Now you come with us, we are going to take you to the elevator and get you back downstairs." she explained in her sweet southern voice that did Bengiman Pruce's heart good to hear.
"Thank you Miss, you are very nice to me." Mr.Pruce said in a voice that was sweet and kind. Charles had never heard him interact with a female so civilized before and this worried Charles who thought some-
thing was terribly wrong with him.
"Oliver grab the paintings, and be careful. please." Charles instructed Oliver who was still wearing his bathrobe and slippers. He did as he was asked and Melissa and Charles helped Mr.Pruce up and out of the filthy, smelly apartment and the four slowly made their way down the hall. As they waited for the elevator Melissa insisted on receiving a bill for Mr.Pruce's medical care, to which Charles refused profusely. There was a bit of tension in the air on the elevator and Mr.Pruce looked down at the soft, strong, tall woman he had his arm around and smiling asked her "Have you ever had an egg dropped in a hot, strong cup of coffee pretty lady?"
Melissa looked up at him smiled and said "No, I sure haven't."
"Oh," he sighed "You should try it sometime, the heat cooks the egg..," he trailed off, lost in a memory. Charles began to worry about him again. "Yeah." Mr.Pruce went on "Me mum used to make that for me when I was a little boy, when I wasn't feeling well." Charles had never, in all the years he had known Mr.Pruce, ever heard him speak one word about his mother. He had assumed with Mr.Pruce's severe lack of all charm,style and sophistication he had been raised on the streets of London. Charles knew Bengiman had suffered a concussion, but to what degree he could not be sure until he took him back to his house.
When the little group made it down to the busy street they were greeted with a few stares as the two helped Mr.Pruce into the passenger's seat and Oliver, in his robe and slippers, placed the large wrapped parcel of paintings in the back seat; where he lovingly placed the seat belt around them and said goodbye to his creations. All while Melissa slipped Charles her private telephone number insisting he call her and let her know how Mr.Pruce was doing. Charles took her number and placed in his wallet as he slid his wallet back in his pocket she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek saying she hoped to see him again, real soon, and she wished him well. Charles embraced her tightly holding on a little too long, but he had not touched a woman, in any way, shape, or form, in several months and he thoroughly enjoyed the simple pleasure of a hug from a beautiful, sincere woman. She smelled of jasmine and gardenias and the scent of her made his pulse quicken. Charles promised he would call Melissa and as he pulled away from the curb he stared at her long, well toned, tanned legs in the rear view mirror nearly running a red light in doing so.
