The Baker's Wife (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
andhiswife) wrote2017-12-12 05:14 pm
andhiswife) wrote2017-12-12 05:14 pm
Entry tags:
Bread when I'm hungry, fire when I'm cold
Dated December 31st, 2017 / January 1st, 2018:
Attending the New Year festivities up at Kagura is out of the question, for several reasons. Firstly, Greta just doesn't want to chance it after last year's mess, especially with Saoirse in tow. Nor does she want to leave Saoirse with a sitter, in case whatever madness the new year unleashes ends up terrorizing the countryside while Greta's away. No, after all the busyness of the holiday, she thinks a quiet night in sounds far better than a mountaintop soiree that may or may not go horribly wrong at the stroke of twelve.
After a bit of waffling, she'd also invited Thomas over. Holiday preparations had become so all-consuming since the party that she hadn't seen much of him since then. She had stopped by his shop to give him a small gift: some high quality Earl Grey tea. Busy as they both might be, she wasn't about to drop off the face of the earth after their date had ended so agreeably. But while she'd been tempted to invite him for Christmas, she had also worried it would seem like a bit... much. Casually entertaining a pair of wayward near-strangers had been easier to contemplate than the thought of having Thomas over.
Perhaps she was worried about impressing him, after he'd all but literally swept her off her feet. Or perhaps she just didn't want to spend Christmas constantly squashing the urge to haul her guest off and do something Too Forward to him.
But as New Year's approached, there was no getting around the fact that she simply missed his company. Surely, she thinks, she can handle a quiet night in without embarrassing herself.
The preparations are far less overwhelming than they could have been. The cottage still looks charming; all the decorations she'd been scrambling to finish before Christmas are still up. She's got plenty of wood to keep the fireplace going throughout the evening (for the atmosphere, if not out of any real necessity). Even cooking doesn't manage to intimidate her; she's spent far too many months trying to please a manor full of fussy children to quail at the thought of making dinner for three. If anything, she's rather excited to make something that doesn't have to involve peanut butter or ketchup in some form. There's a fresh loaf of bread sitting out on the counter, and beef, potatoes, and vegetables in varying states of completion.
By the time Thomas arrives, the scents of roast beef and rosemary are already permeating the cottage. The dogs have been watching the proceedings with such rapt intensity that she half-wonders if a knock will even draw them from their posts, but they do end up scrambling towards the door.
"Saoirse, love, could you go welcome our guest?" Greta asks, glancing over her shoulder at the lass. Saoirse had been so keen to see Greta all dressed up for the party that Greta had spent the last week-and-change before Christmas frantically putting together a fancy little dress for her, so she could get in on the fun. For her own part, Greta has kept things rather casual, unwilling to wear anything that couldn't handle the rigors of the kitchen. She's in one of her nicer dresses -- just nice enough that she questions whether she ought to be wearing it to cook at all -- but there's an apron slung over it, and her hands are... rather a mess, actually. She wipes them off on a spare dishcloth, backing out towards the hall until the front door is in sight.
"Hello," she calls out, grinning at Thomas once he appears. "Sorry, I'm just a bit of a mess, but I'm fairly certain it'll be worth it. Saoirse can take care of you, in the meantime."
Attending the New Year festivities up at Kagura is out of the question, for several reasons. Firstly, Greta just doesn't want to chance it after last year's mess, especially with Saoirse in tow. Nor does she want to leave Saoirse with a sitter, in case whatever madness the new year unleashes ends up terrorizing the countryside while Greta's away. No, after all the busyness of the holiday, she thinks a quiet night in sounds far better than a mountaintop soiree that may or may not go horribly wrong at the stroke of twelve.
After a bit of waffling, she'd also invited Thomas over. Holiday preparations had become so all-consuming since the party that she hadn't seen much of him since then. She had stopped by his shop to give him a small gift: some high quality Earl Grey tea. Busy as they both might be, she wasn't about to drop off the face of the earth after their date had ended so agreeably. But while she'd been tempted to invite him for Christmas, she had also worried it would seem like a bit... much. Casually entertaining a pair of wayward near-strangers had been easier to contemplate than the thought of having Thomas over.
Perhaps she was worried about impressing him, after he'd all but literally swept her off her feet. Or perhaps she just didn't want to spend Christmas constantly squashing the urge to haul her guest off and do something Too Forward to him.
But as New Year's approached, there was no getting around the fact that she simply missed his company. Surely, she thinks, she can handle a quiet night in without embarrassing herself.
The preparations are far less overwhelming than they could have been. The cottage still looks charming; all the decorations she'd been scrambling to finish before Christmas are still up. She's got plenty of wood to keep the fireplace going throughout the evening (for the atmosphere, if not out of any real necessity). Even cooking doesn't manage to intimidate her; she's spent far too many months trying to please a manor full of fussy children to quail at the thought of making dinner for three. If anything, she's rather excited to make something that doesn't have to involve peanut butter or ketchup in some form. There's a fresh loaf of bread sitting out on the counter, and beef, potatoes, and vegetables in varying states of completion.
By the time Thomas arrives, the scents of roast beef and rosemary are already permeating the cottage. The dogs have been watching the proceedings with such rapt intensity that she half-wonders if a knock will even draw them from their posts, but they do end up scrambling towards the door.
"Saoirse, love, could you go welcome our guest?" Greta asks, glancing over her shoulder at the lass. Saoirse had been so keen to see Greta all dressed up for the party that Greta had spent the last week-and-change before Christmas frantically putting together a fancy little dress for her, so she could get in on the fun. For her own part, Greta has kept things rather casual, unwilling to wear anything that couldn't handle the rigors of the kitchen. She's in one of her nicer dresses -- just nice enough that she questions whether she ought to be wearing it to cook at all -- but there's an apron slung over it, and her hands are... rather a mess, actually. She wipes them off on a spare dishcloth, backing out towards the hall until the front door is in sight.
"Hello," she calls out, grinning at Thomas once he appears. "Sorry, I'm just a bit of a mess, but I'm fairly certain it'll be worth it. Saoirse can take care of you, in the meantime."
no subject
He can't help but laugh when the girl pops up and hurries upstairs. "Is she... jumping up there? Does she do that often? Should we clean up the game or do you think she'll be up for going on?"
When Saoirse returned in her pajamas, Thomas gives her an approving thumbs up. "Are you warm and cozy, at least?"
no subject
But there are some tell-tale thuds from upstairs, and Greta chuckles quietly as she realizes what she's up to. "I think so, yes. Trying to perk herself back up, no doubt. We'll see how well it works." She starts to straighten things up a bit, though she doesn't actually put anything away, in case Saoirse really does mean to go till the bitter end. Besides, having everything cleared away when she comes back would make it seem like they really were trying to usher her off, and Greta doubts she'd appreciate that.
"I'm not sure if she'll want to carry on, though. Maybe we could persuade her towards something a bit more relaxing." She throws Thomas a conspiratorial grin as an option occurs to her: "Would you be willing to read her a story? She'd probably love it." It doesn't hurt that Thomas's voice is pleasant to listen to. Greta wouldn't mind hearing him read a story, either.
Saoirse bounces back down the stairs, looking far fresher than she was five minutes ago, and Greta smiles approvingly. "Well done. Now, do you want to finish up the game? Or we could read a story or something."
no subject
She barely makes it to the end of the game, though. Her eyes droop heavily, and eventually even she has to admit defeat. But she refuses to go to bed. A nap on the couch is all she needs. She wants to see all the midnight stuff on TV!