A sunny start, OTA

[stepfordbot]

Routines are important. Establishing them, maintaining them- a lifetime spent with a house full of children that required minding and strict standards to follow as to their care filled Grace's days and gave her purpose. As the family waxed and waned, as the children grew and lives became infinitely more complicated the routine changed. But one thing remains the same no matter how old or young, no matter how full or empty the house has become. The most important meal of the day.



Nutrition dictates a certain variation now and then, but a single dish tends to surface over and over. Be it the dietary value or the aesthetic- or that it was one of the few ways she could, when they were young, offer the children a moment that was close to normal. Normal children aren't raised with an unloving and distant father, Normal families don't run drills with knives and violence instead of nursery rhymes and storybooks. Normal families and normal children had eggs sunny side up with smiling faces made with bacon.

Which is on the menu today alongside a stack of pancakes and a few prepared, wrapped and warmed sandwiches of egg, sausage, cheese, and english muffins for those that need to eat and run. Sliced fruit and glasses of fresh squeezed orange juice.

She's singing under her breath, something simple and lilting as the smell of bacon fat and frying eggs fills the air. No matter what happens, she's been able to feed and provide. As soon as the first set of eggs are finished she calls out- "Children! Eggs are ready."

Comments

[lucky_no_7]

Like any stepchild, there had been a long period of time when Lucy had first arrived at the house, seven years old and already full of spite and vinegar, where she'd flat out refused to call Grace 'mom' like the rest of them did, because she already had a mom, and the fact that said mom had abandoned her here didn't change the fact that Grace wasn't her mom.

But that had softened considerably during Lucy's recovery from a fall from a gable roof, one that had miraculously -and due to at least some of Lucy's own ability- ended up with nothing worse than a sprained ankle a cleanly broken arm, and bruised ribs. But Grace had been there through her recovery, something that her own mother had certainly never done, aside from the occasional childhood flu or cold.

And now, after a few days back in the house, Lucy woke up to the familiar smell of breakfast and then, right there, Grace calling them down to eat. She smiled, making her way downstairs, dressed for the day, but barefoot as she almost always had been in her younger years, padding into the kitchen, "Morning, mom. Five didn't abscond with all the coffee yet, did he?"

[stepfordbot]

Before Reginald passed, coffee wasn't to be found in the house. He detested it on principle, it seemed, and he never offered a proper explanation. Now that he's gone and she can tend to the kids she was made for without overt meddling?

Two pots of coffee are custom at breakfast. One for most, and one carafe for Five. It lessens the likelihood of running out before everyone else has their fill.

Another benefit to an absence of her creator's presence- Grace has taken to adjusting standards in the kitchen- bottles of flavored syrups, indulgent treats more often than once every third Wednesday at precisely two thirty pm. It seems to brighten everyone's day when they can have what they want as they want it rather than how she's made to prepare it for everyone across the board. "He gave the second carafe a look but it's topped up for you, Lucy."

Grace flicks her wrist, sending a pancake shaped like a flower in a graceful flip through the air onto the plate in her opposite hand. "Did you sleep well?"

[lucky_no_7]

She smiled at the ease of that flip, for all her spatial awareness and predictive ability, that was something she'd never quite mastered herself. She could do it with heavier things, like grilled cheese sandwiches, but pancake flipping still eluded her. Though it didn't bother her, because as satisfying as the smack of a perfectly-flipped foodstuff hitting a plate was, she actually enjoyed watching other people do it more than doing it herself, which didn't happen with many things.

She nodded even as she stirred sugar and creamer into her coffee, "I did, is that weird? It kind of feels like it should be, all of us back under the same roof, but no, I slept great."

[stepfordbot]

"The house is full but lighter, somehow." Without Reginald. Without the immense sense of doom hanging over their heads. Grace knows she's happy to have the kids home, to have their guests and friends. All the rooms teeming with life again, the kitchen keeping her busy. "Brighter- but that might just be me. I've missed having a full table." With no one but Reginald and Pogo for the past few years, and Luther for years before that? It was- Trying, at times.

[lucky_no_7]

Her smile softened, nodding, "Yeah, yeah, and not just because somebody opened the drapes in the upper windows." There were still the sheer curtains so that none of the art or display cases were getting direct sunlight, but even just that change helped dispel some of the pall that always seemed to hang over the house.

"And, you know, I'll be sticking around a while, so if you need a sous so that you don't have to spend as long putting everything together for that full table, I'm available." She wasn't a great cook herself, but she could handle prep like nobody's business.