Participants:
| Scene Title | Domesticated Telepath |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Many months have passed and Kaylee is slowly and reluctantly settling into life in the past, learning how to be a properly domesticated woman. |
| Date | July 20, 1886 |
The Smith Inn
The height of the summer is normally filled with the hum and clatter of air conditioners striving to cool the air and make it bearable. That is if your living in the world today, but not when you've been flung back to a time before that. And boy was Kaylee Thatcher missing the modern conveniences, especially when she's stuck in the kitchen of The Smith Inn baking bread.
There is a certain decorum to dressing back in the 1880's, which includes long sleeves, high collars and skirts to practically the floor. That means in the sweltering temperatures of the uncooled kitchen, Kaylee is going to sweat. Dabbing the loose sleeve against her forehead, she sighs heavily.
“What is with the sigh?” The amusement that colors the voice of Margaret Smith as she steps into the kitchen with the rustle of her black skirts. Being a widow, she always wears black. She once told Kaylee, that even though years had passed since her husband had passed away, she still had no desire to find another man.
“Once you have truly loved the perfect man, there is no need to go back on the hunt,” she once told the young telepath.
Kaylee always found Margaret interesting. The woman was so independent and so full of life, no man would mess with her, yet she didn't really look lonely. The younger woman always felt she could learn something from her. “Sorry, Margaret. I was day dreaming again.”
“What of this time?” The older woman muses, stepping over to check on the younger's progress. Taking a thick pot holder, she pulls open the door on the old black iron stove. The brief wave of heat, from it makes Kaylee step back from a grimace. “Dreamin' of machines that do the baking for you? Like the time you were wishing for one that would wash the laundry for you?” Margaret's amusement in the ideals of Kaylee's mind, never stops amazing her. “Keep dreaming, honey, maybe one day it will be true. Save all us women some time.”
The stove door clangs shut and she straightens. “You know, Kaylee. You have truly shaped up since I first brought you in. For a time there I thought you were a lost cause.” Plucking up a dish towel, she rubs a bit of flour off them, eyeing the roll of dough that the telepath is kneading. “That husband of yours will be lucky man when he comes back, he'll get a nice surprise that is for certain.”
Brushing the back of her hand against the tip of her nose, Kaylee chuckles softly, “I don't know about that. I still can't match your skills.”
“That's because you haven't had the years I have had to hone those skills.” Margaret gives her a look of confidence and curt nod. “Mark my word, you will.” Stepping around Kaylee, she picks up a potatoe from a nearby basket and inspects it. “Your parents did you no favors sheltering you as they did. I am thinking about going down to the market and getting a few things, maybe we'll do a nice cool salad for the guests this evening. Sandwiches for those that don't have the sense in their head to eat their vegetables.”
Glancing up from the floured board, hand folding and pushing the latest bread, something she doesn't always need her eyes on, unlike when she began. “Sandwiches are good, I'll get a small roast in the oven so it is ready for tonight.” The dough gets rolled into a ball and a cloth draped over it. That done, she wipes white dusted hands on the hem of apron. “I agree, I mean about my parents.” Kaylee gives her savior a tight lipped smile. “ But I also think, I should have thought to learn all this on my own. Taken the initiative.”
Margaret starts to say something, when a masculine voice interrupts the conversation. “Ms. Smith?” It echos from further in the Inn, repeated again closer, “Ms. Smith?” Eventually, the youthful face of Timothy Benson peeks into the kitchen. His dark hair combed perfectly into place. His clothing nice, even for a handy man. To give the place class, his boss had told him. There is relief when he spots the inn's owner. “There you are. I wanted to let you know that that back step is goin' to need some new wood.”
His gaze then flicks over to Kaylee and she is offered a rather brilliant and dashing smile, that seems kind of familiar to the younger woman, but she can't place it. “Mrs. Thatcher,” he offers brightly, the cap he's been wearing is tug off his head, in a courtly manner. The warmth in his voice, doesn’t' get past either woman. Kaylee turns away, as quickly as she can, so that he can't see the way her cheek redden, giving the impression of being shy.
Margaret on the other hand is already moving towards the man, with a disapproving look. When she stops in front of him, her hands rest on her hips and chin lifts a little. “You put that smile away Mr. Renolds, save if for someone nice young girl that doesn't have a ring on her finger and hasn't spoken vows before God.”
The smile disappears in an instance and Timothy looks chastened, head ducking down a little. “Sorry, Ms. Smith, that wasn't my intention at all.” Which Kaylee knows in an instant isn't true. He knows exactly how to disarm a woman with that smile, the telepath has been able to hear him loud and clear at times. If she hadn't been a 'married' woman and not from some future time, the blonde might have fallen for it.
It was a really nice smile.
“Don't worry, Margaret, I am a happily married woman and know it.” Kaylee does her best to make her voice seem aloof and unaffected. “Nothing Mr. Renolds could do, would convince me otherwise.” That deflated the young man's bubble, his shoulders sagging a little in his disappointment. That hurt school boy look, wasn't enough to makes her want to squish countless butterflies. She does still plan to see Joseph again.
“Either way, it's not proper for a man to try and steal another man's wife, especially one that is serving our country.” The words are firm and clipped with irritation, but older woman seems mollified for the time being. That being said, the inn's owner starts shooing the man away. “Now, go wait in my office, I'll give you the money for what you need to fix that step. Last thing we need is for a boarder to get killed on broken step.”
Even as Timothy is ducking out the door, Margaret is next turning towards Kaylee. “You get that bread out before it burns and get the roast on for tonight.” And with that the mistress of the house, sweeps out of the kitchen as dramatically as she entered, leaving Kaylee there to her thoughts.
The telepath still looks amused as she turns her back on the door and drops her gaze to the ring on her hand again. She's rolling towards the one year mark, it's been such a long and lonely year, her heart hurts to even think about it. Kaylee silently prays that Hiro will find her soon. She isn't sure how much more of this time she an take.
It's not easy tip toeing through a field of butterflies. Who knows how many she's already stepped on.