NaNoWriMo 3

Having seen the sad shape of the pantry in the kitchen, Abbey felt a little when she saw the mounting stack of items on the counter. When she asked for a pound of flour, Tom instructed the man behind the counter to make it five pounds. The same happened with sugar, cornmeal, grits, potatoes, onions, apples, eggs, and salt . The pile kept growing to include fresh meat and pork. When all was finished it was a wagon load of staples to be carried up to the house. Tom didn’t blink and eye. Abbey couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t have to pinch and scrape for the smallest of things for her table. Her cheeks were red and she was flustered as Tom instructed his man to take the load up to the house. It was late in the day and a late start to cooking a proper supper. The young man who brought the wagon up politely introduced himself as Carl. He took the large bags and baskets of perishables down to the cellar leaving the other items spread about the floor and on the kitchen table as she instructed. Abbey thanked him as he took his leave and set about getting the evening meal together. The wood box was full and she loaded pieces into the stove. It soon would be roaring hot, pumping heat into the oven and the stove top. She looked in and saw the resovior was full and was thankful she would have plenty of hot water later to wash the dishes and for herself. Looking down at her traveling clothes she quickly grabbed her carpet bag from where it still rested from her arrival. In the empty room across from the parlor she quickly changed into the one serviceable skirt and blouse she had packed so as not to have to dig through the trunks. Also in her bag was her nightclothes, underclothes, toiletries and a little box with small memories of her mother carefully preserved and protected. Hurrying back to the kitchen she picked up the long towel from where it was when she left for Tom’s store and tied it around her waist. Sifting out flour, cutting in lard, adding a little tin of can milk and a splash of water she soon had a pan filled with biscuits waiting to go into the oven when Tom arrived. Water boiled on the stove to which she dropped in a handful of milled grits and salt and gave it a quick stir. In the big skillet pork sausages would soon begin to sizzle. Opening and closing the dampers on the big stove she performed an orchestrated dance regulating the heat and cooking her husbands supper to perfection. Husband, it gave her a jolt and made butterflies dance in her stomach. The word also brought a coy smile to her lips. Tom is my husband, sang inside her head and warmed her heart. She was sliding biscuits into the belly of the hot stove when the back door pushed open and in came Tom. Her breath caught in her throat for just moment when she turned from the oven to face him. He was so handsome standing there in his wool coat. As she greeted him she moved over and helped him shrugged out of his light weight coat. The wool fabric cool under her hands indicating the chill in the evening air. She questioned him about things at the store while cracking eggs into a hot frying pan. He asked her if she had gotten everything she needed for the house and if anything had been forgotten while he washed up at the sink. “I think I got far too much at the store,� she still blushed at the thought of all the things brought up to the house. Her pink cheeks did not go unnoticed by Tom. “Abbey, you don’t have to worry about what things cost to a great degree anymore. I am not rich, “ He paused a moment then continued, “WE are not rich, but we are not poor either. You don’t have to pinch and scrape with every penny to get by any longer.� “But, Tom, it is so expensive to…� “Living well does come with a cost,� he interrupted her, “but it is a cost we can afford. Promise me you won’t cut corners and do without things you might need in the sake of worrying about a few extra pennies. Flustered she flipped the eggs in the pan, her hand slightly shaking. She felt Tom behind before his footsteps reached her ears. His hands touched her shoulders and slid down her arms. He took the spatula from her fingers and set it to rest on the edge of the pan. Lacing his fingers with hers he crossed their arms over in front of her, pulling her back into his chest. He mouth was very near her ear. “I am not trying to shame you or to cause you worry.� His voice was low and gentle. “I remember how we grew up. I also know taking care of your sick father left very little money for other things.� She relaxed a little in his arms. Her head resting at his shoulder. “I don’t ever want you to have to struggle and go without nice things and planty of food just because you fear there will be no money in the future.� She could only nod her head. A lump had formed in her throat at the kindness and generosity in his words. Abbey couldn’t remember a time in her life when worrying about money for one reason or another wasn’t the mainstay of her every day. She stayed in his arms until she realized his eggs needed to come out of the pan. She covered her flustered composure by fixing plates and serving his dinner and coffee. When she pulled the pan of biscuits from the oven she smiled at their perfection. She piled them high on a plate and set them on the table near Tom‘s place. “I hope you don’t mind having breakfast for supper.� She rushed her words moving to take her seat. “There wasn’t time to prepare you a proper evening meal.� Tom pulled out her chair and made her comfortable before taking his place at the kead of the small kitchen table. “This is a meal fit for a king. I don’t know when the last time I ate this well.� His words were honest. “I am npt ashamed to admit that my cooking isn’t all that great.� He laughed. It was his laughter that broken the left over tension. Her tinkling laugh joined his and filled the kitchen air. For anyone looking in the window it was cozy merry scene. A man and a woman, seated at their supper table, heads bowed for prayer, then animation resuming. The tinkle of silverware on plates. The gurgle of tea and coffee filling cups. The smells of fresh baked bread seeping out of the house. The man talked between bites his hands punctuating what he was saying. The woman not taking her eyes off of him, smiling, listening intently and the love light shining in her eyes. Inside the cozy comfort of the kitchen, Tom and Abbey finished their meal. Abbey cleared the table while Tom filled a pail with hot water from the stove. It did not take for the kitchen to be tidied up. Abbey washed their dishes and Tom stood beside her drying and putting away. She urged him to take a seat and put his feet up but he wouldn’t hear of it. “After a meal like that it is the least I can do to help with the cleanup.� He vetoed her ruling to go sit in the parlor by the fire. As she wiped down the stove and the table Tom did depart long enough to lay a fire in the hearth. It was crackling and just catching up to a full flame when abbey entered from the kitchen passage. The scent of smoke and ash met her. It was a vague reside that signals a cozy warmth. Tom settled into his chair and she sat in the small rocker opposite. It seemed mere moments and her eyes were drooping and the first vestiage of sleep was trying to take over her tired limbs. Tom roused her apologizing forgetting how tired she was after a long train journey and having cooked supper and cleaning up after. She was a bit groggy and Tom led her up the stairs and into one of the rooms just off the passage. He lit a lamp and the light flickered low and yellow. He was gone for only an instant when he reappeared with her bag in hand. She moved as in a sleepy fog. She undressed and put on her nightgown, leaving her traveling clothes draped over a stool near the bed. Tom had left her to her privacy but was soon back. He pulled back the covered on the bed and helped her before tucking the blankets around her. She was sleepy she couldn’t protest and her eyes closed as her head touched the pillow. She slept before his goodnight reached her ears.