Lena stared out the window in the overseer's building, a glass of water in her hand. It had only been twenty minutes or so since Kara had departed, but, to Lena, it felt like hours. She took a sip of the water, watching the occasional passerby. The town, Breighville of North Carolina, was the same.

North Carolina was given the nickname 'the Rip Van Winkle State,' in the early 1800s, due to the state's economy being deemed to be significantly lacking when compared to the neighboring states that were bustling with production and trade. Indeed, one text described the residents as "a sleepy habitat peopled by laggards and lazylegs not unlike those in Lubberland."

This was in part because of Nathaniel Macon, whose political reputation and voting record, stained his name when he voted against significant economic legislation that would increase the national government's power and influence in the economy. To him, state-government-sponsored roads were constitutional but federal-funded roads were unconstitutional. This resulted in North Carolina accepting only a slim percentage of federal transportation funds. There was also the belief that political views such as these set back the state's economic progress, and that a remaining Maconite suspicion of government is what blocked some North Carolinians from considering all the benefits that the government could bestow. All in all, though some challenged the view, the state was considered to have a backward state of affairs.

And, considering the rules of this lowly town, Lena couldn't say that she entirely disagreed. It made sense that Kara would already be married. A woman staying unmarried was unacceptable. Lena remembered her father giving her a copy of an unpublished memoir by Charlotte Despard he had somehow obtained. In it, Despard wrote of her experience as a young woman in the 1850s:

It was a strange time, unsatisfactory, full of ungratified aspirations. I longed ardently to be of some use in the world, but as we were girls with a little money and born into a particular social position, it was not thought necessary that we should do anything but amuse ourselves until the time and the opportunity of marriage came along. 'Better any marriage at all than none', a foolish old aunt used to say.

The woman of the well-to-do classes was made to understand early that the only door open to a life at once easy and respectable was that of marriage. Therefore she had to depend upon her good looks, according to the ideals of the men of her day, her charm, her little drawing-room arts.

How right she was, Lena thought. Marriage laws had been based on the notion that women would get married and that their husbands would take care of them. Even in Britain, when a woman got married, her wealth was passed to her husband. If she worked after marriage, her earnings were also her husband's. Upper and middle class women had to stay dependent on a man, initially as a daughter and later as a wife. It wasn't much different for the poor. And a woman trying to obtain a divorce was extremely difficult. Men could divorce their wives on the grounds of adultery, but there was no vice versa when women found that their husbands had committed adultery, unless they had an additional charge. And children? They became the man's property following divorce, and he could bar the mother from seeing them.

Lena sighed, moving to the smaller desk to sit. The town was the same. But she was not. Having grown up in New York, she had seen so much, far beyond this sheltered town. The prospect of marriage had been unappealing to her for reasons her mind had previously pondered, but she had tried relationships. The first was with a man, and, following the loss of her virginity, Lena knew immediately that such a relationship would never happen again. Before that point, it took her some time to fully realize that she had no desire for the male gender. When she finally accepted this, she explored a tentative relationship — a sexual awakening of sorts — with a woman her father had employed. That didn't work out either. She'd love to state that she hadn't been sure why, if only to spare herself from appearing pathetic for holding on to a childhood infatuation, but she knew that Kara Danvers had remained a deep-seated fixture in her heart. She knew that she had to return, like she had considered returning times before, to test how real this feeling was. Whether it was just a silly delusion.

If they were meant to only be friends, Lena would need to accept that. Either way, she needed to know.

She picked up the dip pen with gold nibs. But first, she needed to deal with this new job. It wasn't something to take on by her lonesome. She would need stewards or officers if anything was to seriously be enforced.

IIII

Kara scrubbed at her hands in the wash area of Alex's home. Her face and hair were mostly clean, but the grime on her hands, as usual, refused to come off to the point where she could call them scrubbed.

Her mind was also preoccupied with the lie she had told Lena. Lying didn't come easy to Kara. Jeremiah and Eliza had raised her to be honest. But she had been so irritated in that moment that the words just fell from her lips. She had wanted Lena to hurt the way she had been hurt by the brunette's departure all those years ago. She couldn't see why Lena would be so wounded over a broken childhood promise, but she had known it would sting, as Lena had always valued Kara's honesty and loyalty.

"I might need to see the town priest," Kara said.

Alex moved to sit on the floor. Her four-year-old son, William, tackled her by the neck, trying to wrestle her to the ground.

"Why? Because of your lie?"

"Of course." Kara sat beside Alex.

"Kara, you're making a mountain out of a molehill." Alex leaned toward her, whispering, "Do you know how many times I've lied?"

Judging by Kara's scandalized expression, she could tell the answer was no.

"Do ma and pa know about this side of you?" Kara questioned.

Alex laughed. "I'll tell you this... Father Mable is unlikely to free you of your guilt. If anything, he'll add to it."

Kara stared at her sister. The brunette was dressed in her usual, simple green dress, her long, dark hair smoothed and pulled into ringlets at the sides. Alex always made looking pretty and feminine so easy.

"Lying is a grave sin, Alex." Kara moved to pick up William, her cruddy hands staining his shirt as he made growling sounds.

"Don't muddy up my baby," Alex chided, taking William back into her own arms.

"He's four, not two," a male voice boomed behind them. They turned to see Alex's husband, Jonathan Williams, frowning their way. They'd married when Alex was 20 and he was 24. Kara had always felt it unfortunate that Alex's child was given the name 'William Williams.'

"You shouldn't be coddling him." The man walked over to where they were sitting and scooped the boy up into his arms. "I'm taking William out hunting with me. You two have plans, so it shouldn't matter." He exited the house with long, awkward strides that Kara was certain she'd never get used to.

Kara turned back to Alex. "Are thangs not fine?"

Alex shook her head, her eyes still fixated on the door. "Don't ya ever make the mistake of marrying," she whispered.

IIII

Jeremiah and Eliza sat in the dining area a little away from the kitchen, as Alex and Mon-El helped set the table. Kara was busy putting the finishing touches on the meal. It was five-thirty, and it had been their idea to treat Jeremiah and Eliza, as the two had treated them so many times in the past. An average farm day began very early. Women built the fire per scheduled meals. So even a simple meal was a time and energy-consuming chore. Although timepieces existed, and there were clocks in town, including one in the blacksmith shop Kara worked in and in Kara's home, many still lived by the sun. Some went to bed at dark and got up at daylight, timing their meals by what nature told them; in these cases, schedules were mostly by guesswork.

Preparing breakfast, dinner and supper was more than just a matter of starting a fire for cooking. Spices, particularly cinnamon and nutmeg, and seasonings, like pepper and salt, had to be ground up with mortars and pestles. Cream and butter were made from the family dairy cow. The milk usually sat out for an hour after someone brought it in. After cream separated from the milk and rose to the top, it was placed into a butter churn and beat until it hardened. The first beat was to make whip cream, and, after that, butter.

In town, every family had something to do with regard to fixing meals. As the males were outdoors most often, their duties were hunting, feeding larger livestock, and working crops in the fields. Wild game, such as deer and turkeys, were often brought back to feast on. The females were mainly regulated to feeding smaller livestock and working in the kitchen.

Although they had town butchers, families often came together with their neighbors when it was time to butcher animals. This was to share the workload and the meat. The meat staple in the Southeast was pork, as hogs proved more pliant than cows. Curing was improved because of pork. In the fall, it was not uncommon for neighbors to gather while doing work. This time would be used to share information about one another's lives, including any gossip. It was essentially a social event, which is also how it was at harvesttime. At harvesttime, neighbors joined in to supply crops. If enough time was left following the work, a celebration by way of a feast or bonfire might ensue. Dancing was also allowed, so long as no music was played and men and women did not touch one another.

The main meal, dinner, was enjoyed in the early afternoon. Supper was a smaller meal for the evening, which is what Kara was preparing now. They did not have the resources for a separate kitchen, which was a kitchen in a building separate from the house, and so the kitchen was often hot, smoky, and smelly. The hearth signaled the focus of home life and family activity. Meals were prepared on hearths of brick fireplaces, and different types of fires and flames were used to prepare different types of food. While boiling and stewing required a smaller flame, a regulated fire was used to roast and toast. Kara was busy with roast at the moment. She was good with coal, and to maximize the fire's energy, she shoveled coal and ash underneath and onto the lid of the Dutch oven, which stood on three legs on the hearth.

Cast iron and steel stoves were noted for their difficulty. Ashes from an old fire had to be removed. After that, paper and kindling had to be set inside the stove, dampers and flues had to be carefully adjusted, and a fire lit. If cooking much, one needed to watch the stove all day long. The stove had to be continually fed with new supplies of coal or wood, which equated to an average of fifty pounds a day. The ash box had to be emptied about twice a day, which meant that one had to gather ashes and cinders in a grate and then dump them into a pan below. On average, a woman spent three to four hours every day carrying coal or wood, lighting fires, adjusting dampers, sifting ashes, and massaging the stove with thick black wax to keep it from rusting. Any time the fire slackened, Kara had to adjust a flue or add more fuel.

"Kar," she heard Mon-El say, calling her by his term of endearment, from the dining area. "You seem lost there. Supper ready?" She looked at him and he made one of his goofy faces usually meant to make her laugh. She offered a brief smile before turning back to the food. He never understood that her mind commonly deviated to thoughts of history when it came to meals, war, and technological advancements.

"It is." She stood, turning to the others.

"'Bout time," Jeremiah said as Mon-El and Alex helped Kara retrieve the roast pork and place it on two small platters for the dining table.

"Hush you," Eliza scolded him, playfully hitting him in the shoulder. This was her husband. And in her home, she would occasionally kiss him, and now touch him, even if the others saw. "The children do this for us, and all you can say is 'bout time'?"

"Thank you, I mean," Jeremiah said apologetically, watching Alex place the roast on individual plates with a grin.

Kara laughed. "It's fine, ma." She readjusted her spectacles. "This is for you two, and I did take my sweet time."

Eliza nodded, a twinkle in her eye.

As the trio proceeded to take their seats, a knock came at the door. "I'll get it," Kara said, rising quickly. When she opened the door, her heart dropped. There stood Lena. The woman wore the same clothes from earlier, but the hat and fancy shoes were absent. And her hair was no longer in the elaborate bun. It fell gracefully around her shoulders, and was even longer than Kara recalled.

Lena's expression was contrite. "I'm sorry, Kara... I... I couldn't stay away." Her gaze, as usual, pinned Kara to the spot.

"Who is it?" Kara heard Jeremiah ask from the dining area.

Kara couldn't form a coherent sentence. "It's... I mean... I saw her earlier..."

"It's Lena," said Mon-El emerging behind Kara and pinning Lena with a gaze far nastier than any he'd ever given her when they were children. His light eyes somehow appeared darker now.

Lena met his glare with a defiant look of her own.

"Lena? Lena Luthor?" Eliza said joyously, moving toward the door with Jeremiah and Alex in tow. She pulled Lena into a bear hug. "We heard you were in town. But to now see you. Come in, come in, dear." Eliza pulled the brunette inside.

Kara and Mon-El were left staring from the doorway. Kara closed the door solemnly. She should have known Lena would show up here. Of course this would happen.

"Let me take a look at you," Eliza said, turning Lena around, in a full circle, until she faced her again. "My, what a sight. Right, Jeremiah?"

"You've grown into a lovely lady, Lena," Jeremiah agreed, his tone sounding fatherly. Proud almost. "But you were always lovely."

Lena smiled. She'd forgotten how wonderful it'd felt to receive appraisal from the Danvers family. She almost moved to hug Jeremiah, but remembered the no bodily-touching rule. She hugged Alex instead.

"Welcome back, Lena," Alex said.

"Alex... I've missed you," Lena replied earnestly. "I've missed all of you." Her gaze searched for Kara's, for a sliver of those blue eyes. Kara looked away.

"Somehow I doubt you were up in the city missing me," said Mon-El, moving to re-take his seat.

"Lena, join us for supper." Eliza ushered Lena toward the table. "Alex, get her a plate."

Kara and the others sat down, Kara having no choice but to sit between Lena and Mon-El, lest she take Alex's seat.

"You're too kind," Lena commented, her eyes trying to focus on Eliza, but straying toward Kara.

Alex served her some roast, then sat back down.

It was awkward for a moment. But just for a moment. Jeremiah asked everyone to bow their heads in prayer. Lena remembered that Jeremiah and Eliza would bless the food before it was put on the table. So this was different. Her beliefs were also different now, but she would concern herself with that another day.

"So, Lena," Eliza began, once they had risen their heads and started to eat, "what is life like in the big city?"

"New York," Lena clarified. "And it's...big. And loud."

Eliza laughed.

"There is a lot of population growth there," Lena added. "The buildings are massive. Many of the rich worry about business deals, living a life of luxury, while a lot of other people, like the Italians, are left to fend for themselves. Crime is rampant, in part, because of the neglect shown toward the latter." She laced her fingers together, eyes briefly flickering from person to person. "But there is also a lot to be admired. The transportation system is very efficient. I can get to where I want to go very easily. There is pavement street after pavement street. There is a building for almost everything: Food. Wine. Theater. Cigars. Oh, and there are beaches. And amusement parks with carousels. I could tell you all about Coney Island and its splend -"

"- Doesn't sound very exciting to me," Mon-El interrupted, shrugging as he took a bite out of his roast.

Until that point, Kara had been engrossed. Mon-El's interruption brought her back to their less-than-engrossing reality, and she lowered her head. This didn't go unnoticed by Lena.

"He speaks of what he doesn't know," Alex chimed in, giving Mon-El a death glare.

Eliza wasn't sure what to state, lacking the knowledge or experience as well. But she knew she didn't like the sound of 'a building for almost everything.' Nor did she like the mention of cigars. "That sounds..."

"Nice," Jeremiah, finished for her.

"Yes, nice," Eliza agreed. She cleared her throat. "Lena, I also notice that your accent is, um, a bit...different."

Lena laughed softly, and Kara looked up at her. That laugh was infectious.

"Yes, Mrs. Danvers," Lena confirmed. "Because I initially grew up here, then in New York, which included me socializing with many Irish folk in addition to others of different backgrounds, my southern accent is somewhat lost. It's multifaceted, I guess you could say."

Kara studied the woman. Now that she thought about it, Lena's accent had sounded different. With the outpouring of emotions during their meeting earlier in the day, Kara had barely registered this.

"Irish folk?" Alex questioned.

"The cholera epidemics of 1849 and 1854," Lena clarified. "Cholera reached and devastated Ireland in 1849. Many of the Famine survivors, who were previously weakened by starvation and fever, lost their lives. Resident after resident sought refuge in New York."

"Oh," Alex replied, dabbing her mouth with a piece of cloth.

Kara listened as Eliza complained about iceboxes and asked Lena if there had been any advancements on the matter. Kara remembered being told that the first iceboxes were made by carpenters and were designed to take advantage of the regular household delivery of large blocks of ice. They were insulated wooden boxes lined with tin or zinc and used to hold blocks of ice to keep the food cool. A drip pan collected the melt water, and had to be emptied daily. In the 1830s, after horse drawn ice-cutters and other advances made ice harvesting and storage easier, ice became a commercial product in New York. Before that point, not many households had iceboxes. The Danvers family had acquired one as soon they had funds for it, but Eliza had never been satisfied with them; they could be quite smelly, she had said. She preferred them to root cellars, ice houses, and winter storage, but that was it.

Salting, drying, and canning eliminated any hint of freshness and required more time to prepare. Iceboxes were also beneficial for saving prepared food that would have otherwise expired after one meal. But the previous methods were still the most popular forms of freezing food.

Kara was just tuning into Lena saying that it would be some time yet until iceboxes were replaced, before she saw Mon-El snapping her way.

"Kara, you okay?" His concern annoyed her.

"You were thinking about the history of ice boxes, weren't you?" Lena asked, her face appearing to light up at the thought.

Kara blanched, then turned her head. The woman had always been able to see right through her.

"What did you do for a living?" Jeremiah decided to change the subject. One could talk about ice but for so long. "I've heard that city women have more options."

"A few more." Lena looked to him, a hint of reservation gracing her features. "For example, a device called the typewriter went on sale in 1874. It's a machine for writing characters, like letters. And my father got word that another invention, the telephone, came about earlier this year." Lena paused, seeing that what she was stating was going over everyone's head. "The latter will enable communication from long distances," she explained. "These two inventions, they aren't yet widespread, of course, but they are expected to provide more job opportunities for women."

Lena's eyes again sought Kara's. "Besides seamstressing, laundry work and cleaning that all women have the option of taking up, we also have women who work in hat factories. Or those who deal with metalwares and pottery, brewing, retailing, confectionery, and so on. And we have female doctors. The first American woman to become a doctor was Elizabeth Blackwell, in 1849." Lena could see Kara's eyes widen, and she wanted to state more, but decided to focus on Jeremiah's question. She looked to him. "As for me... My father worked as a businessman for the Standard Oil Company. Because of my knowledge of industrialization, I assisted him. So did my brother. Mother didn't do much. With the money we made, she didn't have to."

Everyone seemed to be digesting what Lena was stating. Mon-El had moved closer to Kara, intermittently trying to grab her attention to make her laugh or so that he could mock Lena. But Kara lingered on Lena's every word.

"And how are Lionel, Lillian, and Lex?" Jeremiah asked.

"Mother's doing what she does best - living the high life. Father's health is failing. Lex has taken up the mantle." Her response was curt, almost monotone.

Everyone offered their condolences with regard to Lionel's health, and silence again ensued.

"Are you married, dear?" Eliza finally asked.

Lena's eyes locked onto Kara's, holding them for seconds that seemed to drag into minutes. "No."

Kara let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She should have expected that question. And while it took her by surprise, she knew what to expect next, and her eyes signaled to Lena to drop it, to not push forward.

"That's too bad," Eliza replied. "You'll find someone soon, I know it."

"Speaking of," the words rolled off Lena's tongue like butter, "I hear Kara and Mon-El are married."

Mon-El's head whipped toward Lena so fast that Alex did a double take. Jeremiah and Eliza exchanged questioning glances. Alex covered her mouth as though embarrassed for Kara.

Kara and Lena held glares. The awkward silence returned again, but was cut into by an eruption of laughter; Jeremiah and Eliza were apparently tickled by the question.

"No, dear," Eliza said, stifling giggles. "Kara and Mon-El have yet to marry. We laugh about it now, but that's only because we have been trying to get these two hitched since they were nineteen. I haven't a clue why they've waited, but they have. I suspect the good lord will bless them when he's ready."

Kara leaned on her elbow, raising her arm to shield her face.

"Where did you hear such a tale?" queried Eliza.

Lena kept her focus on Kara, who was peeping out at her from slits between fingers. "Idle gossip, I suppose."

Eliza noticed Kara shielding her face, and the soot still covering her hands. "Oh, child. Are you still having trouble cleaning up after work?" She turned to Lena by way of explanation: "She has an awful difficult time cleaning the filth off. We've tried everything."

Kara looked to her palms, balling them. "It's okay, ma."

"I can help with that," Lena offered.

Eliza looked thrilled; Kara shook her head in protest. "No."

"Kara, let her help," pleaded Eliza. "You two used to be so close. I'd like all three of my girls to be as thick as thieves again." She turned to Lena. "What do you need?"

Lena glanced at Eliza and then back to Kara. "Warm water, soap and white vinegar. If that's okay."

Eliza stood. "We have all of that. Kara had just heated some water on the fire for baths." Eliza moved to the tin bath container and used a cup to scoop up some of the water. She grabbed the other needed utensils as Lena and Kara continued to glare at each other. Mon-El had folded his arms across his chest and was watching Lena curiously. Alex was shrugging toward Jeremiah, who, like her, noticed the tense atmosphere.

Eliza disappeared into a room in the back, then returned. "I placed everything in Kara's old room. I figured you might want some privacy to catch up."

Kara sighed, rising to go to the room without another word. Lena swiftly followed.

IIII

When they entered the room, Lena closed the door and leaned against it.

Kara sat on the bed. The cup was on the floor, along with the soap, vinegar and a cloth. "Well?" Kara pinned the woman with a look of indifference.

Lena moved off the door. She knelt in front of Kara, briefly taking a hold of her spectacles. "These will ruin your eyes."

"I had the power removed from them," Kara said flatly, looking straight ahead.

Lena took Kara's hand into hers, and Kara froze. She watched as Lena began to clean her palms. The woman flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, as she had always done when they were little, and hummed lightly. There were beads of sweat on her forehead from the kitchen heat.

Kara felt her anger dissipate with each stroke, battered by the brunette's overwhelming presence. She wasn't scared either, what with Mon-El and her family in the other room. Her knees twitched from Lena's beauty, but only briefly, which left confusion in its place. Why did Lena tease her earlier in the day? Why did she feel so anxious around Lena? Why had she said she'd married Mon-El? Was it all about getting back at Lena?

She watched the brunette inhale and exhale deeply.

"You lied to me," Lena said softly. "In all our years together, I never knew you to lie."

Kara stilled the woman's ministrations, placing a hand on top of hers. "I'm sorry."

The door flew open. Mon-El stood there staring at them. His eyes drifted to their interlocked hands. "I just wanted to tell Kara that I'm leaving. Before the sun begins to set." His gaze lifted to meet hers, then Lena's. "You should probably leave as well, Lena. Curfew is seven in the evening, and it's not safe for a woman on the road at night."

IIII

Mon-El and Lena said their goodbyes, Eliza thanking Lena for coming up with a successful solution to Kara's soot problem. She suggested that Lena spend the night like the woman had done when just a girl. Apparently, Alex and Kara were staying the night as another gesture for making Eliza and Jeremiah feel appreciated for all they had done. Eliza loved having all of the kids under one roof. Lena had met Kara's gaze and knew Eliza's suggestion wouldn't be wise.

She and Mon-El exited the home quietly. Once they were a few feet away, heading down the road solemnly, he spoke:

"You just can't stop, can you?"

"Come again?" Lena kept her eyes focused on the path ahead of her, not particularly inclined to be subjected to any more of his venom.

"You're still trying to steal Kara's attention," he accused. "Just like when we were youngins. Only it's not so innocent this time."

"I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

"You know damn well what I mean." He moved in front of her so that her eyes met his. His nostrils flared. "The way you look at her... It's the way a man looks at a woman. I should know. I look at Kara like that every day."

Lena faltered, looking down. When had Mon-El become so perceptive? She swallowed hard, somewhat longing for the days when he was nothing but the snot-nosed boy holding up his britches.

Mon-El walked away, raking a hand through his dark hair before moving close to her again. He made sure their eyes met before he spoke: "She's mine. What you want from her, you can never have."

And with that, he made his way down the rode, leaving Lena to her own devices.

IIII

Lena didn't have to wait long for Kara to come knocking. The following morning, she could have sworn a burglar was trying to take the door down, the beating was so loud. She opened the door to find Kara staring at her, nearly out of breath. When Kara's gaze lowered, then shot back up with the roll of the eyes, she remembered she was only in her plain, white shift, which revealed far too much of her legs.

Lena folded her arms across her chest. She wouldn't apologize for only being in her shift. If Kara didn't want to see her legs, the blonde shouldn't have visited her so early in the morning. The sun had barely risen.

She didn't bother to ask how Kara had found her, not only because it was easy enough to find out from one of the town gossipers but also because this was the same house she had lived in as a child, except bigger. Turned out that Kara had expanded and preserved it.

"What's a carousel?" Kara asked.

Lena squinted, a chuckle close to escaping her lips. "You mean to tell me, you came all the way here... Ran all the way here... Because you want to know what a carousel is?"

"That, and...other stuff you may know." Kara fidgeted, pushing her spectacles back up on her face.

Lena couldn't help the humor forming in her belly. "Come on in," she said, secretly smiling to herself after Kara had entered. She then closed the door behind them.