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musing_wayThe steak landed with an unceremonious plop on Red’s face. His eyes peered out from the large bloody slab of meat with an expression that was a mixture of sheepishness and a stoic endurance of pain.
"Remember Andrea Hawthorne from the interrogation today?"he asked
Fanny stopped as she brought several jars of herbs from the butler’s pantry that was located just off the kitchen. She turned to give Red a look of supreme displeasure at the memory. The entire scene was all but humiliating.
"How could I forget?"
"She's my daughter,” Red said quietly. “I went to her apartment tonight to try and work things out between us.”
Inwardly, Fanny felt a small sense of relief. However,a slightly raised eyebrow was the only change in her outward expression.
“She's kind of mad at me,” he continued, “has been for a very long time, and well... “ Red shifted slightly in the high backed kitchen chair, “I kind of barged in where I shouldn't. She was with her boyfriend."
Fanny did not respond immediately. It was a surprise bit of information, and given the afternoon’s act on the part of his alleged daughter, was still a tiny bit of a stretch to simply accept. “I see,” she said at last.
She put a handful of herbs from each jar into a wooden bowl, mixing them with a hand as she waited for the water on the stove to come to a boil. After a few more moments, punctuated by the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall, she gave Red a small grin.
“If I were your daughter,” she said, “I’d have been furious, too, if my father had burst in while I was with someone,” Her expression suddenly turned to amusement. “No doubt the boyfriend was irritated at your incredibly wretched sense of timing.”
“I thought there was an intruder…” Red protested.
“Oh, Dad to the rescue, hmm? No wonder the boyfriend punched you in the face.”
“A little sympathy please, Fanny,” Red pulled the steak from his face, “I’m the one who’s injured here…”
Fanny reached out, slapping the steak back in place on Red’s face and bumping his nose in the process. Red winced, squeezing his eyes shut with the smarting he must have felt. “Ow..”
“You’ll get no sympathy until you keep that steak where I put it and not move until I tell you to take it off!” Her Scot’s brogue was now showing the most it had in weeks. “Now sit there till I have this poultice done. I can reduce the swelling and the bruising, but only if y’sit still!”
Red obeyed by trying to sit back in the chair and relax but could not resist telling Fanny more. “She’s agreed to meet me in Central Park,” he managed from behind the steak, “to see if we can talk it out.”
With the hot poultice in a bowl and an old flour sack dishcloth, Fanny sat down next to Red. “So why has your daughter been so angry with you all of this time?”
Red shrugged as Fanny at last pulled the steak away from his face. The swelling was a little less, but it was still going to be a nasty shiner.
“I suppose it was because of her mother and I getting a divorce,” Red said. “Cops are not known to be the most attentive husbands and fathers apparently.”
“Apparently not.”
“It was hard on Andrea, Red winced once more at the poultice packed towel was pressed against his face, “she resented that I got remarried, though I tried to keep everything going as normally as possible…. ”
“No doubt a young woman would view such a thing from her father as a betrayal,” Fanny reasoned. She turned her eyes away a little thinking of her own father, remembering the hardships of growing up without her mother.
“And after the accident, well things never really got better either,” Red continued. Noticing that Fanny’s expression was far away, he stopped, laying the poultice cloth on the table. “Are you alright?” he asked. “I never let you tell me how your evening was.”
Fanny snapped out of her reverie and looked at Red. She wrapped her arms around him and straddled his lap. “It was ok.” She didn’t know where to begin in telling him about how panicked she had been at the Alchemia bookshop when Lady Ashley and Alexander Grigori showed up. Things were getting strange, and even when Red pulled her close and kissed her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that even now they were being watched.
Muse: Francoise de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 766
"Remember Andrea Hawthorne from the interrogation today?"he asked
Fanny stopped as she brought several jars of herbs from the butler’s pantry that was located just off the kitchen. She turned to give Red a look of supreme displeasure at the memory. The entire scene was all but humiliating.
"How could I forget?"
"She's my daughter,” Red said quietly. “I went to her apartment tonight to try and work things out between us.”
Inwardly, Fanny felt a small sense of relief. However,a slightly raised eyebrow was the only change in her outward expression.
“She's kind of mad at me,” he continued, “has been for a very long time, and well... “ Red shifted slightly in the high backed kitchen chair, “I kind of barged in where I shouldn't. She was with her boyfriend."
Fanny did not respond immediately. It was a surprise bit of information, and given the afternoon’s act on the part of his alleged daughter, was still a tiny bit of a stretch to simply accept. “I see,” she said at last.
She put a handful of herbs from each jar into a wooden bowl, mixing them with a hand as she waited for the water on the stove to come to a boil. After a few more moments, punctuated by the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall, she gave Red a small grin.
“If I were your daughter,” she said, “I’d have been furious, too, if my father had burst in while I was with someone,” Her expression suddenly turned to amusement. “No doubt the boyfriend was irritated at your incredibly wretched sense of timing.”
“I thought there was an intruder…” Red protested.
“Oh, Dad to the rescue, hmm? No wonder the boyfriend punched you in the face.”
“A little sympathy please, Fanny,” Red pulled the steak from his face, “I’m the one who’s injured here…”
Fanny reached out, slapping the steak back in place on Red’s face and bumping his nose in the process. Red winced, squeezing his eyes shut with the smarting he must have felt. “Ow..”
“You’ll get no sympathy until you keep that steak where I put it and not move until I tell you to take it off!” Her Scot’s brogue was now showing the most it had in weeks. “Now sit there till I have this poultice done. I can reduce the swelling and the bruising, but only if y’sit still!”
Red obeyed by trying to sit back in the chair and relax but could not resist telling Fanny more. “She’s agreed to meet me in Central Park,” he managed from behind the steak, “to see if we can talk it out.”
With the hot poultice in a bowl and an old flour sack dishcloth, Fanny sat down next to Red. “So why has your daughter been so angry with you all of this time?”
Red shrugged as Fanny at last pulled the steak away from his face. The swelling was a little less, but it was still going to be a nasty shiner.
“I suppose it was because of her mother and I getting a divorce,” Red said. “Cops are not known to be the most attentive husbands and fathers apparently.”
“Apparently not.”
“It was hard on Andrea, Red winced once more at the poultice packed towel was pressed against his face, “she resented that I got remarried, though I tried to keep everything going as normally as possible…. ”
“No doubt a young woman would view such a thing from her father as a betrayal,” Fanny reasoned. She turned her eyes away a little thinking of her own father, remembering the hardships of growing up without her mother.
“And after the accident, well things never really got better either,” Red continued. Noticing that Fanny’s expression was far away, he stopped, laying the poultice cloth on the table. “Are you alright?” he asked. “I never let you tell me how your evening was.”
Fanny snapped out of her reverie and looked at Red. She wrapped her arms around him and straddled his lap. “It was ok.” She didn’t know where to begin in telling him about how panicked she had been at the Alchemia bookshop when Lady Ashley and Alexander Grigori showed up. Things were getting strange, and even when Red pulled her close and kissed her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that even now they were being watched.
Muse: Francoise de Rochefort
Fandom: Original Character
Word Count: 766