Making Bread

[polly_okeefe]

Mother made bread when she was upset. I was not upset. I was just making bread. Honest. No, really.

It had been over a month after I'd confused the heck out of poor Bridge, and he'd asked that we stop dating and go back to just being friends. I'd agreed, because... that's what he'd wanted. And if he was happy, I was happy. We were still friends. We

Comments

[faithanbegorrah]

"I see," Terry replies, an eyebrow going up. She's not one to question it in the least, though, considering she's been wanting to do a lot of making bread herself, lately. "Hullo, Polly."

[polly_okeefe]

"Hi, Terry," I said, giving her a sheepish grin. I got a towel and wiped my hands clean. "How does pizza sound for dinner, tonight? I might be able to do something with tomatoes and a little cheese."

This was not one of my better moments.

[faithanbegorrah]

"If ye want to make it and share it," Terry replies as she heads over to the fridge for the drink she'd come into the kitchen for in the first place, "then I'll gladly eat it. I didn't know ye could cook, lass."

[polly_okeefe]

"I know a few recipes," I said. I started kneading out the dough into something less war-torn and more pizza-like. "I was the eldest of seven, and my parents were scientists; Daddy always working on his latest project. They took good care of us, but we all had to help out. And sometimes -- not too often because my folks felt strongly about the merits of family dinnertime -- Charles and I stepped in to cook dinner."

[beat_death]

"And I suppose talking to it's going to help?" Owen asked, eyebrows slightly raised in confusion as he entered the kitchen. He'd been hoping to find a pot of already made coffee there, but by the looks of things, that wasn't going to happen.

[polly_okeefe]

Oh, yes. It was that dour-looking man who'd found me while I was confronting the bookshelf. I never did catch his name.

"Hi," I said. I sighed. Deadpan, I added, "I like to talk to inanimate objects. It keeps me from going crazy." I dusted off my hands. "Can I get you anything?"

[beat_death]

Right! That's where he remembered her from. She'd been the one talking to the bookshelf that one time.

"Because that makes absolutely perfect sense," Owen said. Of course. People kept themselves from going crazy by actually doing something crazy.

"And I was looking for a cup of coffee, but doesn't look like there's any made."

[polly_okeefe]

"I can make it," I said. I turned around and looked around for the coffee. He was right; it _hadn't_ been made. Possibly because the kitchen crew were still scrambling from the disappearance of Book and Briony. I might have to come back and help out more often.

As I got out the canister and started to set up the coffee-maker, I said to the man, "No, it doesn't make sense. I guess it would be a pleasant change to have things that made sense in life, wouldn't it?" I gave him a quick smile. "I'm Polly, by the way. Polly O'Keefe."

[shot_my_shoes]

Harry wondered, given her red face, whether Polly was embarrassed at something, or if it was just exertion. He had thought that she'd been pounding the bread a bit too hard, but had then assumed that was how it was supposed to be done. He still couldn't decide between the two now, but gave her the benefit of the doubt anyway,

"Given how much bread people eat around here, that's probably a good thing." He put the kettle on for a cup of tea. "How long does it take to cook?"

[polly_okeefe]

"Hello, Dr. Sullivan!" I gave him a smile, then looked down at the pulverized dough. "Not long, actually. Especially in this form. I could fry this." Frybread wasn't bad. "Maybe I will."

I looked back at him. "Can I get you anything?"

[shot_my_shoes]

"No, thanks." He shook his head. "Although if any of the bread's going once it's cooked I'd love to try some."

He got a cup out of a cupboard and then looked round at her again. "Would you like some tea? I find it can be quite soothing."

[polly_okeefe]

I was still a little too embarrassed to welcome conversation at this point, but I didn't want to be impolite. Besides, tea sounded like a good idea. "Sure, if you're making some. How are things down at the clinic?"

[drownondryland]

Meredith bites back a laugh. Funny as it is to her, she knows the mood too well, and no one appreciates being laughed at during it. Wandering in closer, she heads over toward the coffee pot, glancing at the girl with a grin.

"I know the feeling," she says wryly. She's had it plenty herself of late. "Sometimes you've just gotta hit something. At least you can eat the results."

[polly_okeefe]

My breath came out like a hiss. Yup, it was a complete public embarrassment. But at least the person who'd seen it all had seen it all, as it were. "Thanks," I said, ruefully. "You're welcome to have some when I'm done."

I looked up at the woman. I hadn't met her before, but I think she worked at the clinic. "I'm Polly, by the way. Polly O'Keefe."

[drownondryland]

It's nice, Meredith has to admit, to be right about the girl's intentions. True, the muttering had kind of given her away, but for a moment after speaking, she'd realized she might well have just been projecting. She's got a bad habit of doing that.

"Nice to meet you, Polly," she says, pulling the coffee pot out only to realize it's empty. Rolling her eyes good-naturedly, Meredith sets about putting on a fresh pot. It's about the one thing she can do in a kitchen that doesn't involve a microwave. "I'm Meredith. Grey. And I'd like that, thanks. I cannot cook to save my life, nevermind baking."

[polly_okeefe]

I gave the woman a sympathetic smile. "It's not for everybody, I guess. And fortunately we don't often need to. Mother only baked bread when she was upset." I looked down at my flattened dough. "Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

[spd_green]

Bridge stood blinking in the doorway, Ric at his side with head cocked. He didn't like to jump to conclusions ever. He preferred for the conclusions to come in their own time, because when things got rushed they tended to end up wrong. But he also wasn't an idiot, and you would have to be an idiot not to notice that Polly was upset.

"Really, really flat bread," Bridge replied, and Ric barked as he moved closer to Polly. "Are you okay, Polly?

[polly_okeefe]

Oh, no. Oh, damn! Oh, damn! Of all the people who could come in at that particular minute. Please let him not have heard my last few words. I took a deep breath and looked up, then wiped a smudge of flour from my nose. "Hi, Bridge! Didn't see you standing there. How have you been doing?"

[spd_green]

"Good," Bridge answered honestly. It was rare for him to have a day that wasn't good, not when giant robots weren't regularly attacking the city in which he lived. And he genuinely enjoyed his life on the island.

"How're you?" he asked with a searching look. Ric nuzzled up against her leg, but Bridge was a little more cautious.

[polly_okeefe]

I gave Ric a pat and scratched behind his ears, which felt odd given that he had no fur. I thought for a minute about dodging the question, but I knew that Bridge was smart enough to guess that I was lying, and innocent enough to deserve better.

I sighed. "Well, you can tell, I'm a little... frustrated," I said. "I... had a bad moment with my mother, and in general I've been feeling... lonely. And I sort of took out my feelings on the bread dough." And you, if you heard what I said, I added silently. I took a deep breath. "And I'm ashamed of myself because this makes me feel all needy and clingy, and I hate to be those things, but that's the way it is." I looked up at him, and gave him an apologetic smile.