The Ordinary Days
A/N: Hello! There are no warnings for this chapter, just prepare yourself for some Steggy awkwardness and a little bit of pining. ;) And please review if you feel so inclined!
Chapter Five
The moment Peggy opened her eyes, a wave of nausea hit her suddenly and she rushed to the bathroom, barely reaching the toilet in time to throw up. Oh great, she thought dully as she reached up to pull the handle, the first pregnancy symptom: morning sickness.
Thankfully, the nausea subsided as quickly as it had come over her so Peggy decided she might as well start getting ready for the day. She turned on the water to wash her hands when there was a soft knock on the door.
"Peggy? Everything alright?"
Damn, Peggy thought, praying she hadn't woken up Steve, but she indeed had. She opened the bathroom door a smidge and stuck her head out. Steve was looking at her concerningly.
"I'm fine," she lied. "I probably just ate too much at the reception yesterday."
"Are you sure?" Steve asked, eyeing her up and down.
"I promise I'm fine, Steve. Fit as a fiddle. Now I really must get myself ready before Mr. Jarvis arrives."
She promptly closed the door before Steve could protest further, and she sighed. She hated lying to him but felt that she had no choice until they consummated their marriage so Steve would not have any suspicions of pregnancy beforehand.
You're going to have to do the deed soon…a voice that sounded like her mother's said in the back of her mind. Peggy shuddered and tried to focus on applying her makeup without her hands shaking too much.
Steve took the opportunity of Peggy's absence from the room to change into his day clothes. He also tidied up the pile of blankets on the floor, his mind occupied with what Peggy had said a moment ago. She had said she had eaten too much food at the reception yesterday, but Steve recalled that neither he nor she had eaten very much yesterday because they had been too busy talking to and thanking their guests. Steve knew about pre-wedding jitters, but were post-wedding jitters a thing, too?
Peggy emerged a little while later looking immaculate - hair properly curled and pinned up, makeup flawlessly applied, and the floral day dress she was wearing did not have a single wrinkle. Steve admitted to himself he was a little relieved to see that she did not show any visible signs of illness or apprehension, but she did give him a slightly nervous look as she asked him, "Shall we go down?"
Steve nodded as they silently gathered up their things and went down to the hotel lobby.
The Stark's impeccable butler, Edwin Jarvis, greeted the pair warmly as they came out of the hotel and found him standing next to his (or undoubtedly, Howard's) expensive-looking car.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Rogers," he said with a smile.
"Do call us 'Steve' and 'Peggy', Mr. Jarvis," insisted Peggy, but he waved her off.
"I wouldn't dream of it. Your friends of Mr. and Mrs. Stark's and thus I must show you the proper respect. Now, let me help you load your things into your vehicle."
As he helped them put their luggage in Steve's truck, Jarvis turned to Peggy to ask, "I can tell by your voice that you're English, Mrs. Rogers. Is that where your family is from?"
"Yes," she replied as she passed him her large bag. "We lived in Hampstead but moved here to Denver when I was a girl. I never lost the accent, though, as my friends often tease me about."
"Nor have I," said Jarvis with a smile. "Getting an Englishman to change his ways is like asking a leopard to change its spots."
Peggy chuckled and saw Steve gave her a pleasing smile.
"I never knew that about you," he told her, and she glared at him and gestured toward Jarvis with a look that said don't let Jarvis suspect we don't know each other that well. Steve realized she was right and they needed to start acting like a couple who had been courting for months before getting married, especially in front of strangers they didn't fully trust.
"Shall we head out to Starwood Farm?" he asked hastily, and everyone agreed and climbed into their respective vehicles.
Peggy sat in the passenger seat while Steve drove, both of them trying (and failing) to think of a conversation topic. The pair sat in silence for several miles until Peggy finally broke it.
"So do you know anything about the farm?" she asked, heart racing a little as she posed the question but didn't really know why.
Steve glanced at Peggy out of the corner of his eye for a moment but turned his concentration back to the road. "Just what Howard told us yesterday. He said it's a beet farm out in Wilson, I believe."
"Yes, I daresay he did."
"I think I made a delivery out to old Mr. Barker once or twice before he died," Steve continued. "If I remember right, it's a decent sized farm that took advantage of crop rotation; he grew wheat and potatoes in the off season. So we should be able to make a decent living off of it, especially if Howard is lending us a hand."
"That was quite generous of Mr. Stark," replied Peggy earnestly. "We'll have to be sure to properly thank him the next time we see him."
Steve nodded. "He's been a good friend to me, Howard. The list of things for which I owe him seems to be growing every day."
"How did you meet him?"
Steve shifted a little uneasily in his seat. "In New York, actually, when I was a soldier. He was part of the science division I volunteered for. You don't go through something like that and not end up friends afterward."
Peggy found this curious, but Steve's tone of voice indicated that he did not want to talk about it further so she left it alone. She recalled Steve saying he had served in the war for a brief period but never, during any of his conversations with her, had he mentioned anything about a science experiment. She made a note in her mind to ask about it later.
The pair continued the near-hourlong trip with small talk and some awkward silences in between comments about the weather and farming techniques. Finally, Jarvis's car in front of them pulled off the main road onto a long dirt drive that led to a pale yellow two-story farmhouse and a large red barn not far from it. As the truck approached the house, Peggy could see that behind it stretched vast golden fields and a rather large pond.
Jarvis parked his car next to the barn and Steve next to him. All three got out of their vehicles and surveyed their surroundings.
The house itself was…not a bad size, Peggy had to admit. The pale yellow walls looked like they could use a fresh coat of paint and the brown roof might need some repairs, but otherwise the house looked fairly sound. There was a vast porch stretching from end to end and on the soil in front of it was a row of square wooden planters containing a few decaying plants. With some flowers and a bit of greenery, Peggy figured she could make something decent of the exterior.
The adjacent red barn looked weathered and had a coop and chicken wire set up next to it with a handful of brown, white, and black chickens strutting lazily around the enclosure. On the dry grass next to the barn were large bales of hay and a beat-up blue pickup truck with stacks of empty wooden boxes sitting in its bed.
"Welcome to Starwood Farm," said Jarvis warmly, and he beamed at them as if they were supposed to be awestruck at the dilapidated farm. The couple exchanged a look but then smiled weakly back at Jarvis.
"Might we have a tour?" asked Peggy, and Jarvis nodded affirmingly.
"Let's start with the house."
As they made their way up to the house, a scruffy brown dog bounded up to Peggy from the barn and jumped up on her legs, panting happily. She was taken aback but Jarvis shooed the dog away.
"He's harmless," explained Jarvis. "Old Mr. Barker took care of this dog, although what its name is, I couldn't tell you. You don't have to keep him if you don't want to."
The mutt jumped off of Peggy but looked up at her with playful eyes. Although Peggy wasn't much of an animal person, she had to admit the dog made her heart melt.
"Aw…he seems like a good dog. I'd hate to cast him out of his home."
She glanced at Steve who shrugged. "It could be useful to have a dog around."
"That's settled, then," concluded Jarvis with a beaming smile.
The three of them (plus the dog) walked up the stairs to the porch and Jarvis opened the front door, the dog immediately scurrying inside. But before Peggy or Steve walked in, however Jarvis suddenly interjected, "Wait!"
The couple froze and looked curiously at Jarvis.
"You have to carry her over the threshold of your new home, Mr. Rogers. It's tradition."
Steve glanced at Peggy nervously. She returned his unsure look but then shrugged and said, "It's tradition."
Steve raised his eyebrows but didn't question it. He bent to pick up Peggy and scooped her up like she was nothing but a twig, barely fitting through the door as he carried her over the threshold. Peggy had her arms wrapped around his neck and was a little shocked by how effortlessly he had picked her up. Must be from the time he spent as a soldier, she thought.
While Steve was gently placing Peggy back on her feet, Jarvis followed them in, beaming.
"Lovely. As you can see, here's the living room, kitchen, and dining area. Please look around the house and see if there's anything that needs tending to, and I'm sure Mr. Stark will sort it out."
Peggy and Steve looked around the old house. The front door opened to a handsome set of wooden stairs with a large living room on one side and the kitchen and dining table on the other. The rooms were furnished, by which they were both relieved, but the green sofa and armchair looked antique and needed new upholstery. The yellow curtains in the window were a bit dingy and the windows could use a washing. In the kitchen, the open cupboards were bare but they were pleased to see there was a working icebox as well as dishes and cookware. The large wooden table in the kitchen held a tiny vase of wilting flowers atop it.
"Is there a telephone?" she asked Jarvis hopefully, but he frowned.
"Unfortunately, no. But I will pass along the word to Mr. Stark that one needs to be installed."
"Where's the closest telephone we can use in the meantime?"
"Well…as far as I know, Wilson itself doesn't have a public one, so the next closest one would be at the Denver post office."
"An hour away?" asked Peggy incredulously, and Jarvis nodded. "Well, I suppose letters will have to do for now."
"Let's look upstairs," suggested Steve and Peggy nodded, following his lead up the creaky wooden staircase. They discovered there were two bedrooms, one bigger and one smaller, each containing a queen-sized bed covered with quilts. Attached to the larger bedroom was a small washroom containing a clawfoot tub that looked like it needed to be cleaned.
"Indoor plumbing," observed Peggy, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.
"Good thing both bedrooms have decent sized beds," he remarked. "You can take the larger one; I believe the closet in that one is bigger."
Peggy was about to protest but stopped herself when Jarvis came in, following them into the larger bedroom.
"Ah yes, two bedrooms. You'll have plenty of space for a nursery when the first little one comes along!"
Steve saw the look on Peggy's face almost resembled terror, so he cleared his throat and tried to change the subject. "Now, how about the barn and the fields outside?"
"Very good, Mr. Rogers. Let me take you down there and see if Mr. Sousa is tending to the animals at the moment."
"Animals?" questioned Peggy and Jarvis nodded. She and Steve exchanged a look as they accompanied Jarvis down the stairs and out to the large red barn a few paces away from the main house.
Jarvis pried open one of the heavy barn doors and Peggy was surprised to look in and see a few black and white cows munching away at some hay in their stalls as well as a beautiful copper-colored horse nodding off in the furthest stall. A man wearing a dirty cotton shirt and brown trousers was shoveling one of the empty stalls and he looked up when they entered.
"Mr. and Mrs. Rogers, this is Daniel Sousa, a local farmhand," introduced Jarvis. "He's been employed by Mr. Stark to help you with the animals as well as the fields."
Daniel limped a little as he approached the couple, wiping his hand on his pants before shaking hands with Steve.
"Mr. Sousa," greeted Steve, and Daniel interrupted him by saying, "Please, call me Daniel."
"Only if you call me Steve."
He turned to give Peggy a little bow of the head. "Ma'am."
"How do you do?" she said politely.
"If you ever have any problems with the cows or the chickens, or ol' Penny here," he gestured to the horse, "then don't hesitate to let me know. Can't guarantee I can get there very fast because of my leg, but I'll come and help with whatever you need."
"You alright?" Steve asked as he looked down at Daniel's leg, and he nodded.
"War wound," he shrugged. "Not much the doctors can do but as long as I put my feet up at night it doesn't hurt much. I'm glad of the chance to do farm work instead of being a soldier, let's put it that way."
"Fair enough," said Steve good-naturedly. "Do you need help with what you're doing?"
"Me? I'm just mucking out the stalls. If you want to actually do me a favor and grab me another bale of hay, though, I'd appreciate it."
Steve looked to Peggy who gave a small shrug, and then he rolled up his sleeves and got to work helping Daniel haul a bale of hay from the corner over to the stall.
"Shall we return inside?" Jarvis asked Peggy, and she obliged. "Oh, before I forget, there's a few things in the boot of the car that I was going to give you."
He and Peggy walked back to the car and he opened the trunk to reveal several boxes of fruits, vegetables, bags of sugar and flour, jars of jams and jellies, and wrapped meats. She helped him carry everything inside as they set the supplies down onto the wooden kitchen table.
"There's quite a lot of things here for cooking," said Jarvis as they began to sort and put things away in the icebox and cabinets. "And baking as well if you so desire."
"Oh," replied Peggy, looking at everything and realizing there was nothing but ingredients that needed to be cooked. "You see…I'm not much of a cook. In fact, I've never really cooked before, except the occasional boiled egg or pot of tea. We had a cook who did all that for us."
"I see," replied Jarvis in contemplation. He looked around at the ingredients. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone starts at zero skill and has to build it up."
"Yes, well, I suppose that means Steve and I are going to starve in the meantime while I figure things out," said Peggy morosely as she took out a few jars that she did not know the contents of.
"Not to worry," said Jarvis as he rummaged around in one of the drawers for something, and then smiled when he pulled out an apron. "I can teach you a thing or two today, and then my wife Ana could come over and give you some real training. She's the proper cook."
"Oh," said Peggy, her heart sinking, "no, please don't go to any trouble for me. I could always go to the library and check out some cookbooks."
Jarvis rummaged through the drawers until he found a decent stock pot and a soup spoon. "It's no trouble, we're always happy to help friends of the Starks'. I'll go ahead and teach you how to make a nice stew which will last you for a few days."
Peggy felt painted into a corner. It really was nice of Jarvis to want to help out, but she felt that the more people came over and spent time with them, the more likely it is they might see her developing symptoms or signs of her pregnancy too early. Or what if they notice that Steve and Peggy don't really know each other that well? Or see they are sleeping in separate rooms? What kinds of questions will that raise?
Shaking her out of her thoughts, Jarvis took out a knife and cutting board and handed them to her.
"Will you dice this carrot please? Carefully," he added as he passed her said carrot. She obliged and began her work of learning how to cook a basic beef stew from Jarvis, and Peggy couldn't help but admit to herself that he was a rather excellent teacher.
Peggy spent the day in the kitchen and Steve in the barn and the fields until the sunlight began to dissolve into the horizon. They had enjoyed a simple lunch with Jarvis but he decided to leave by suppertime to "give the newlyweds some time to themselves," as he put it.
"Please let me know if there's anything else I can do to assist you," he offered as the couple walked him out to the car. "I'll send along my wife, Ana, sometime soon to continue your cooking lessons, Mrs. Rogers."
"Er - thank you, Jarvis," she said with a weak smile.
"And now I must be off! Congratulations, you two, and I hope you enjoy making this farm your new home."
He gave them each a warm smile before getting into the car and departing down the dark dirt road.
Peggy and Steve shared a look, wordlessly acknowledging they were glad to finally be left alone.
"I'm heating up some more stew for supper," she said as they headed back up the porch stairs and into the house. "I'm afraid with my limited cooking skills at the moment, you'll have to get used to eating stews a lot."
"I don't mind," Steve shrugged. "I can cook too, if you need me to."
"You can cook?" asked Peggy, surprised to hear of a man so young having the skill.
He shrugged. "Yeah. When my mother got sick I had to learn to take care of us so she walked me through a few of her recipes." Steve sat down at the kitchen table as Peggy flitted over to the stock pot on the stove, stirring at the bubbling liquid. "I can't make anything fancy but I can make more than stews."
"Well, that's more than I can say."
Peggy ladled the beef and vegetables into bowls and set them down on the table. She laid one before Steve and walked across to the other end of the table to set down hers. Steve silently made note of the distance she put between them.
They spooned their meals in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of slurping permeating the awkwardness. With no other company around, Steve and Peggy both noticed how hard it was to think of a conversation topic, especially when they hardly knew their partners' interests. Suddenly their thoughts were interrupted by a scratching at the door and whining, and Peggy recognized the sound.
"It's the dog," she sighed.
The whining continued and Steve looked a little concerned. "Should we let him inside?"
Peggy shook her head. "No, he's pretty filthy. One of these days I'll have to try to bathe him. Until I'm sure he doesn't have fleas, he stays outside."
"Have you thought of a name for him yet?"
"Oh…" she replied, thinking. "No, I haven't really thought of anything yet. I've never named a dog before."
"Didn't you have any pets growing up?"
"Oh no, Mother forbade them. She said they would tear up the house."
The scratching and whining eventually died down as Peggy and Steve continued to eat their stew, both trying to do so in the politest way possible to not disturb the other. Steve thought for a moment and then asked, "Do you like music?"
Peggy was surprised by the sudden question. "Yes, I daresay I do."
"Who's your favorite singer?"
She thought for a moment. "I suppose I like a lot of different singers. Al Jolson, Glenn Miller…If I had to pick a favorite, though, I guess I would say Benny Goodman."
"No kidding," said Steve with a chuckle. "Who would've thought?"
"What?"
"He's my favorite too."
Peggy smiled genuinely - probably for the first time since the wedding. "Well, what a small world it is."
"How about the name Benny? For the dog?"
Peggy considered it as she took a last spoonful of stew. "Sure. We can call him Benny. I like that."
Steve shot her a kindly smile across the table and for a brief, fleeting moment, Peggy got the feeling that maybe this marriage wouldn't be so bad after all. At least they were friendly and could find some common ground between each other. Of course, they weren't in love, but at least they didn't hate each other.
But then she remembered the baby that was coming and her smile faded. She still felt awful about keeping it from Steve before they got married, and the guilt made her whole body feel heavy. She quickly stood and took her bowl to the sink to wash it.
Steve was a little taken aback by her sudden desertion of the table, but he figured she must be wanting to get ready for bed after such a long day. Once she was finished with washing her bowl and spoon, he did the same as she silently put the leftovers away in the icebox.
"I'm going upstairs," she said quietly, and Steve nodded.
"Okay. Good night."
For a moment, she paused and looked like she wanted to say something, but then she gave her head a little shake and headed up the creaky wooden stairs.
Steve watched her go up and sighed when she was out of sight. He understood why she needed space. He had, after all, pretty much entrapped her in this marriage and it was going to take a long time for her to get used to that.
I need to get used to it, too, he reminded himself, and busied himself with cleaning up the last remaining vestiges of dinner.
Peggy completed her nighttime routine - this time without worrying about Steve seeing her barefaced and hair undone since they had separate rooms to sleep in - and climbed into bed. She shut off the lamp on the nightstand and lay in the dark silence. She was relieved to notice that the bed was big and comfortable - but perhaps a little too big. She knew the bed was built for two people and as she lay in the middle of it she suddenly got an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. Tomorrow morning, she would not wake up to her maid telling her it's time for breakfast, nor her sister asking her to borrow one of her dresses, nor her parents telling her the agenda of her day. It was just her and Steve – and Benny, she remembered – with a house and farm to run. Steve would most likely be helping the farming side of things while Peggy was left to run the household – well, mainly cooking and cleaning since there was no staff or servants to be in charge of. This simple life was her existence now.
Hot tears stung her eyes as she berated herself for crying two nights in a row. But the fact was, her tears came from a place of confusion as well as sadness: was she sad because she felt trapped in this marriage and lifestyle? Or was she more sad that Steve was sleeping in the next room and the pangs of loneliness made her desperate for a little human contact from her husband, even though he was practically a stranger?
She turned over, punched her lumpy pillow into shape, and knew she had a long, sleepless night ahead of her.
