Derek was a little startled at the sudden hug and rush of emotion, though he caught her and tentatively patted her back soothingly, still a tad bit stunned at the force of her gratitude but glad he could help and make someone feel so thankful.
She gave him an enthusiastic series of nods and went back to eating, absently doodling on the pad as she shoveled food into her mouth with the other hand. She wasn’t really thinking about what she was thinking, other than ‘this is the best thing I’ve had in weeks’, and she blinked when her fork met empty plate.
Then she frowned at the doodles on the pad. Which turned out to be a list — of things she didn’t have, and ought to (something unhappy crinkled down her spine at that word). Clothes topped the list, and she squirmed in her seat. A wisp of memory suggested, ‘expensive’. And ‘selfish’.
Abandoning the pad, she carried her plate over to the sink, automatically rinsing it off and glancing around, before she realised she didn’t know what she was looking for. She huffed in frustration. Bits of disconnected memory came and went, usually when she least expected it, and it made her /nuts/.
Derek was smiling as he ate, making small talk with Isaac as Summer doodled or wrote or whatever it was she was scribbling on the pad.
He noticed her frown but didn’t want to interrupt her. When she got up, Derek looked over at the pad and noticed a list, though he didn’t take in the words, just took note that there was a column of them. When he heard her huff, he looked up again and saw her holding a wet plate.
He called out lightly. “Towel to dry it is hanging on the handle of the oven. If you want to let it air dry you can set it in the rack on the other side,” he offered, unsure what happened.
Summer whipped around, blinking at Derek, then glanced back down to the plate. Sauce still clung to it. Dishwasher. That was the word for what she’d been looking for. But if he lived here alone, maybe he didn’t have one. She took the plate back to the sink and washed it more thoroughly, then set it to dry on the rack.
She came back to the table, slumping in her chair, and poked at the pad again, riffling the sheets. With a faintly irritated air, Isaac finally took the pad away from her, lifting an eyebrow as he looked it over.
“I think she wants to go shopping, Derek.”