November 1904
Daisy-19 months
Katherine wondered if dinner might magically appear if only she stared hard enough at the rows of canned tomatoes and blue cracker tins in her pantry. It didn't.
She turned around to investigate the icebox again, and snagged her hip on the corner of the counter. "Shit!" She ground her teeth and pressed her palms into the wood. "I hate this kitchen." She'd always hated the kitchen. It was shoved into a back corner of the apartment-isolated, cramped, and painted an ugly rust-red. Outside the tiny window, pale sunshine quickly faded into chilly, cloudy night. Katherine sighed.
It was too quiet with Jack working late. The kitchen always felt stuffy even without the stove on, and a nagging tight ache stretched across her forehead. Kat wandered into the living room. Daisy was curled up in a corner of the couch, breathing heavily through parted pink lips.
Daisy had yet another cold, and had woken up before the sun congested and screaming. Katherine eased herself down next to her daughter. The toddler sniffled and stretched her chubby legs into her mother's lap, but didn't awaken.
"Sweet girl." Kat whispered. "I'm sorry you don't feel good." She swept Daisy's fuzzy blonde curls away from her face. In the back of her mind, she knew Daisy crashing before dinnertime would mean she'd be up all night, but she didn't care. For now, it was a brief respite from whining and snot. Katherine propped her head in her hand, trying to will away her own mounting headache and sandpaper throat.
The front door opened and Jack trudged in, satchel slung over his shoulder.
"Hi." Kat said flatly.
Jack put his bag down and sat in a chair across from her. "Hi." He said. "How's Daisy?"
"Sick. And needy." Katherine said. "This the first time she's slept since 5 o'clock this morning. How's the comic?"
"Needy." Jack sighed. "I lost count of how many edits I've done. Ain't nothing new to say about Roosevelt. Everyone's said it and drawn it already, and better than me. I'm 'bout outta ideas, and I got a final copy due tomorrow morning. If you've got anything brilliant before Election Day, I'm all ears."
Katherine nodded. "I need to write at some point, too." She said. "Maybe I'll pitch tips for dealing with a sick kid. Yippie."
Since Daisy had been born, Kat had continued her job at the paper with a twice-monthly opinion column. Occasionally, in her most absurd dreams, she pictured herself interviewing factory girls, hurricane survivors, and the presidential candidates with Daisy strapped to her back; typing furiously with one hand, holding a bottle with the other.
But this was real life. The men in their too-tight ties and silk suits laughed and assigned 300 words on the city's best recipe for chicken pot-pie or the cheapest laundry soap. It was just enough to keep her brain from turning to mush while changing diapers and re-reading nursery rhymes.
"I have no idea what we're having for dinner." Kat reported. "I'm sorry."
Jack peeled off his jacket, then stood up. "I'll rustle something up."
Kat slid Daisy's feet from her lap and followed her husband into the kitchen. "I'll figure it out." She said, and shuffled back to the mostly-empty pantry. Cans and jars stared blankly back at her.
Warm arms wrapped around her waist, and she melted into Jack's chest, closing her eyes.
"I think I'm getting Daisy's cold." She admitted. "And I'm a horrible homemaker."
Jack planted a kiss on her head. "But a hell of a mother." he said. Another kiss. "Hell of a wife."
He always made her feel so safe.
"I'll run to the bakery before they close." Jack said. "Get us some sandwiches, alright?"
Kat nodded. "Let me see your drafts while you're gone." She said, and turned to face him. "I'll give you hand with your Roosevelt."
Jack rubbed her back. "We make a pretty good team." He said.
"Thanks for everything." Kat whispered, and kissed him.
xxx
I've missed it around here friends! I have been crazy busy with work (good busy!) and hardly written at all in weeks. Feels good to come back to something fluffy. Let me know what you think!