For the most part, their drive home was silent, save for the low hum of music emanating from the car’s stereo.  Paul decided to let things be as they were.  Perhaps Charlette was tired from the active but fun day’s activities.  Sun, surf, and modelling could do that to a girl.<br/><br/>Her phone buzzed, notifying its recipient of an unread text.  The foreign noise also brought Paul out of his trance.  Though his eyes never strayed from the road, his peripheral vision revealed all.  Charlette was clearly not pleased with whatever the sender had to say.  If the gruff manner in which she stuffed her phone back into a pocket was anything to go by, at least.  Dave, he thought.  Surprise!<br/><br/>Lucky to have a two-car garage, Paul pulled and parked his Subaru on the left, seeing as how Charlette’s Volkswagen occupied the right.  Garage door shut and secured, the pair headed inside.  A nice, hot shower was calling his name.  And he was eager to answer.  That was now his priority.  Whoever had texted him back on the trail was secondary.  He still hadn’t bothered checking on the source.<br/><br/>As they both seemed to be wrapped up in their own thoughts, Paul said, “A hot shower’s got my name on it.  And I’m sure you’re thinking the same thing.”  Dropping random items on the couch, he placed kitchen items either in the sink or where they belonged.  Already halfway down the hall, he turned with a broad grin and said, “Oh, and Charlette?  Don’t forget your towel this time, okay?”  He winked at her and continued on his way.  Hot water, suds, and scrub-a-dub-dub?  What a combo!