After lunch, they parted ways with May again, and Phil took Skye and Jemma out to pick up some things for school.
"I noticed you both already had backpacks," he said as they grabbed a cart and headed towards the back of the store. "But if you'd like a new one to be just for school, I'm happy to get it." Skye thought about her current backpack. She'd had it since she was in elementary school, and it was a good backpack. It was old though, and more than a little beaten up from being toted from place to place. One of the straps was reaffixed with duct tape, and one of the zippers was stuck shut, but she didn't think it was quite dire enough to go and do something as extravagant as buying a whole new one. She shook her head, and Jemma did the same, which didn't surprise Skye in the least. Even if Jemma's backpack was falling to thread, there was no way she would have willingly gotten rid of it. Jemma was very particular about her things, and getting new stuff was always a challenge. Most of the time it didn't matter, since they didn't get much new stuff anyway, but Skye had seen Jemma be reduced to tears because she had to get new shoes before.
"Okay then, we can skip the backpacks," Phil chirped. It was amazing how upbeat he seemed to always be. He led them around the store, and gradually they stocked the cart with notebooks, pencils, folders, and a few other supplies. Skye was trying to be polite, because it was really nice of him to buy them all this stuff, but she couldn't help but feel incredibly bored as they walked through aisle after aisle of pens and planners and paper. She wondered if Phil would mind if she went off to look at something more interesting, like the electronics section, but wasn't sure she had the courage to ask him.
At one point, as Phil moved ahead towards the three-ring binders (how could there possibly be so many kinds of binders?), Jemma lagged behind and lingered in front of a display of fancy-looking calculators that Skye was sure could do more math with just a few clicks than she would ever be able to in her whole life. She pulled up beside Jemma and admired the elaborate machines.
"Those are pretty high-tech," Skye remarked. Jemma nodded in agreement.
"They can graph complex equations and even compute integral calculations," she breathed. Skye had no idea what those things meant, but Jemma sounded in awe.
"Do you like them?" Phil's voice came from behind them, causing both girls to jump. They hadn't realized he had joined them.
"I don't really need it, it's not like I couldn't do the same math in my head," Jemma said sheepishly. Skye didn't doubt it. She had never actually seen Jemma use a calculator before, and the girl still somehow managed to ace practically every math test she had ever taken.
"While I'm incredibly impressed with your math skills, I'm a little more interested in whether you like it, not whether you need it," Phil said gently. Jemma's cheeks went pink. Phil waited patiently, and after a moment, Jemma nodded.
"I like them." As soon as Jemma finished speaking, Phil reached over and added one of the calculators to the cart. Skye's eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise, and Jemma's mouth fell open.
"Phil, those are like a hundred dollars," Skye pointed out. Maybe he had missed the price tag.
"I know," he said. "But it's important to have a good calculator, and Jemma can use this one all the way through high school, probably. I know a lot of my students use these in some of their upper-level math classes. Consider it an investment in future math education." Jemma opened and closed her mouth a few times before any words could get out.
"Thank you," she finally managed to squeak. Phil just beamed.
"You're welcome," he said. "Skye, if there's something special you'd like to pick out too, you're more than welcome. I want to make sure everything's fair, you know." Skye thought for a minute, then had an idea. She took a deep breath and steeled her nerves.
"Could I go look for something in a different part of the store?" she asked.
"Of course," Phil said. Skye let out the air she had been holding onto. "Can Jemma and I come with you, or do you want to meet us back here?"
"You can come," Skye told them. She didn't have any reason to be secretive, but she appreciated that Phil had asked. Quickly, Skye managed to find the electronics section of the store, Phil and Jemma in tow, and she darted through the aisles, scanning the shelves. After a minute of searching, she found what she was looking for.
"A computer repair kit?" Phil asked as Skye handed him a small box to put into the cart. Skye nodded.
"It has a bunch of neat stuff," she explained, pointing out the different tools that came included in the kit. "See, there's these tiny pliers, and a little screwdriver that you can swap the heads off of, and some extra fuses, and these cool wire clippers that can also cinch things." She was a little worried that Phil would think she was crazy, or up to no good, but the look on his face was as pleasant as always.
"That does sound cool," he agreed, adding the kit to their eclectic cart. "Maybe in the car on the way home you could tell me what all of those things are for." Skye cocked her head. She had never had a foster dad who was actually interested in learning about her computer stuff. To be fair, she didn't usually talk much with her foster dads, and she certainly never told them she was building a computer under her bed, but still, most foster dads either worked all day and then wanted to be left alone at night or would rather slug you than listen to anything you had to say. She was starting to see that Phil wasn't really the type to fit into either of those boxes. He hadn't gotten mad when she had broken the glass that morning, and he paid attention to her and Jemma when they talked about things they liked, like calculators and computers. Skye knew it was still too early to know for sure, but so far the evidence was pointing in a direction that told her Phil was one of the good ones.
They made it through the checkout line with ease, and soon they were back in the car and headed back home. Phil was true to his word and listened attentively while Skye explained what kinds of things she could use her new tools for. She did her best to keep everything hypothetical, since she wasn't sure if she was ready to tell Phil about all the spare parts she currently had squirreled away in her bedroom, but Phil was still a good listener. He asked good questions, and he nodded and "mm-hmm'd" in what Skye considered to be all the right places. By the time the car pulled into the driveway, Skye was practically glowing from getting to show off her computer expertise to such a captive audience.
"Why don't you two take your stuff up to your rooms?" Phil suggested as they clambered out of the car. "I have a few things I need to take care of in the office, since I'm going back to work tomorrow, and after that I'll start working on dinner. You can rest, get ready for tomorrow, watch TV, whatever sounds good." The girls nodded in tandem and disappeared up the stairs, while Phil moved towards the office in the back, chuckling to himself.
Skye spent all of two seconds dumping her new supplies unceremoniously on her bed before crossing over to Jemma's room. Jemma was neatly and deliberately taking each of her new supplies out of the shopping bags and placing them in rows on her desk. Skye shook her head and smiled in disbelief at how different their methods were, but didn't interrupt Jemma's process. Once Jemma had placed each of her notebooks and pens and folders on the desk, she took her empty backpack, which Skye could only assume she had unpacked the night before like a responsible person, and began filling it with all her new things. The folders went in first, then the notebooks, then all the pens and pencils in a pouch in front. She saved the calculator for last, which she lovingly tucked into a protective pocket on the inside of the bag. Satisfied with her handiwork, Jemma zipped up the bag and plunked herself down on the bed, finally turning to acknowledge Skye's presence at last.
"I can't believe he did that," Jemma said. Skye knew she was talking about Phil's generosity in the store, and she nodded in agreement.
"I know, that was completely crazy! I've never had a foster dad like him before. He's…" Skye trailed off. She wasn't sure how to describe Phil exactly. He was super nice, of course, but it was more than that. He was gentle and kind, and he knew how to get excited about things. Sometimes he acted like a big kid, or a big dork, but he was protective, too. Skye gave up trying to define the enigma that was Phil and flopped into the chair by Jemma's bookshelf.
"How are you feeling about school tomorrow?" she asked. She trained her gaze on the rug, so that her own expression couldn't give her away to Jemma. Jemma was quiet for a minute, mulling over her words, and Skye heard the soft sound of Jemma's finger tapping lightly on the bed post.
"I don't know," she finally admitted. "I'm glad that we have classes together. And I think I like that boy Fitz, even though he's a little odd. But…" Jemma stopped, and there was an edge of uncertainty in her tone.
"Yeah," Skye said, looking up at Jemma. "Me too. I just hope it doesn't completely suck. I mean, it can't be worse that Our Lady of Mercy, right?" Skye shuddered thinking back to their old school, and Jemma's face scrunched up like she had just been fed a lemon.
"I hope not," Jemma lamented.
"At least there's no Michaela the Medusa at this school," Skye remarked, running a finger thoughtfully over her bruised cheek.
"Does it hurt? What about your hand, how does that feel?" asked Jemma, getting up from the bed and crossing the room to inspect Skye's bandaged hand.
"It's fine. A little sore when I move it, but the bandage has been working." Skye wiggled her hand in front of Jemma's face, which elicited a giggle from the younger girl.
"Well just make sure you clean it and put a new dressing on it before bed tonight."
"Yes ma'am, Dr. Simmons," Skye said with mock seriousness. She flourished her injured hand and used it to give Jemma a stiff salute, sending her into another fit of giggles. A few minutes later, both girls managed to regain control, and Skye decided that she was getting bored staying shut up in Jemma's room.
"Hey, Phil said we could watch TV. Want to see if there's anything good on? They might have the Discovery channel…" Jemma, tempted by the lure of animal documentaries, agreed, and they both bounded down the stairs and into the den. After a few attempts, Skye managed to figure out which buttons and remotes controlled the large television, and after flipping through several channels she and Jemma settled on Jeopardy. Skye didn't find the game show to be all that interesting, but Jemma loved to answer the questions before the contestants, and Skye did have to admit it was entertaining to watch Jemma obliterate the adults on screen.
While they watched, an enticing smell began wafting from the kitchen, and Skye found herself following her nose to find Phil at the stove, whistling a chipper tune and stirring a large pot. Skye drew level with Phil and peered into the pan, where she found onions and ground beef sizzling away.
"I hope you like spaghetti," Phil said. "I'm working on my world-famous sauce at the moment."
"It smells good," Skye told him, inhaling deeply. "Usually when we had spaghetti at St. Agnes, the sauce just came out of cans."
"I'll let you in on a secret," whispered Phil conspiratorially. "My sauce comes out of a jar, but I like to spice it up with a few things here and there to make it taste amazing."
Skye smiled at him. "That's pretty smart."
"I like to think I'm a pretty smart guy, most of the time," he chuckled. "Would you like to help? I could use an extra hand." Skye thought for a minute, then nodded. She had cooked a few times before, usually in foster homes where the parents couldn't be bothered to themselves, but she had never cooked with another person before, and never anything as involved as what Phil seemed to be working on.
"If you'll pull out the big pot from that cabinet down there," Phil gestured towards a cupboard under the counter, "and fill it up about 2/3 of the way with water, that would be great. You can just leave it in the sink, and then I'll carry it over to the stove once it's full." Skye obeyed, finding the pot and setting it in the sink with little difficulty. Once the water had reached a spot she thought seemed about 2/3 full, she turned off the spout and signaled to Phil that it was ready. He passed her the spoon he had been using on the meat and onions and hefted the heavy pot onto the stovetop.
"We'll have to wait a little for the water to boil, but there are some other things we can do in the meantime," he said. "Would you rather finish the sauce, or start chopping up some vegetables for our salad?" Skye pondered her options, and decided that she didn't want to run the risk of ruining Phil's "world-famous" sauce with her lack of culinary acumen.
"Vegetables," she told him with a stout nod. Phil directed her as she pulled out carrots, broccoli, cucumber, and lettuce out of the fridge and set them on the counter. He showed her where a cutting board and the knives were, and before long, Skye had everything laid out in front of her, ready to chop.
"Be careful with the knife," Phil cautioned. "Hold it with all of your fingers bunched together, like a fist, not with your pointer out like a pencil, and then rock it back and forth over whatever it is your cutting." Skye did her best to follow his instructions, and began to cut the carrots clumsily. Phil was watching her, and he smiled when she glanced up in a silent request for confirmation that she was doing it the right way. Skye felt the corners of her mouth tug up and the carrots made a satisfying snap with every pump of the knife blade.
While Skye worked her way through the various vegetables, Phil continued at the stove, adding the jar of sauce to his pot, and then several shakes from a number of different jars of spices and a splash of a brown liquid that smelled almost like salad dressing.
"Secret ingredients," he explained, waggling his eyebrows. Skye bit back a giggle. She could tell he was playing around, pretending to be sneaky with his cooking. It was fun to work side by side with him.
"Do you always cook?" Skye asked, thinking to dinner the night before and breakfast that morning. None of her previous foster dads had ever cooked, and a few seemed like they probably had never even set foot in the kitchen before.
"Usually," Phil said. "I like to cook, and I'm usually home before Melinda is, so I try to get dinner started. Also, between you and me, Mel isn't a very good cook." Skye did laugh this time. She suspected May wouldn't appreciate that characterization. Phil chuckled with her. "She makes very good dumplings, and she's a pretty good baker, but I'm the top chef in this house."
Eventually, the water boiled, and they added handfuls of dry spaghetti noodles to the pot. Phil turned the stove down under his sauce for it to simmer while the pasta cooked, and then helped Skye toss the salad ingredients together. As they worked, Skye heard the front door open, and a moment later May appeared in the kitchen, briefcase still in hand. She looked a little tired, but had a smile on her face as she took in the sight of Phil and Skye cooking together.
"Hey, you two," she said. "It smells good in here. World-famous spaghetti?"
"You know it," Phil boasted. "Even more world-famous now that I finally have a worthy assistant." He winked at Skye, who felt her cheeks grow slightly warm at the praise.
"Well, I can't wait," May said. "Today has definitely been a spaghetti kind of day."
"What does that mean? What's a spaghetti kind of day?" came a voice from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Jemma standing there, looking confused. Skye figured Jeopardy must have ended and Jemma had come looking for her, or to see what all the hubbub in the kitchen was about. May furrowed her brow and looked thoughtful at Jemma's question.
"I guess I mean that it was a hard day, so I want to eat something that I really like for dinner to cheer me up, like Phil's spaghetti," she finally explained. "I never really thought about it before."
"It could mean the kind of day where everything gets twisted up and tangled like spaghetti noodles," Skye suggested, thinking about some of her own bad days and how twisty and knotted they left her feeling. May made a pensive noise and nodded in agreement.
"That never occurred to me, Skye, but you're right. Today was a tangled-up noodle of a day. I like that definition a lot." Skye puffed her chest a little, proud of her contribution, and she noticed that Jemma's confusion had morphed into a small smile. She guessed that Jemma liked her definition, too.
"Well, honey, why don't you go put your stuff down and then tell us all about your spaghetti day while we eat?" Phil suggested. "Everything's almost ready here." May agreed, pecking a kiss on Phil's cheek as she made her way past him and out of the kitchen.
"We still need to set the table, plus I need to drain the noodles and add in the sauce," said Phil, crossing back to the stove. "Could I persuade you two to help me out with that?" Skye and Jemma nodded, and Phil told them where to find everything they needed to set the table while he finished cooking with a flourish. Jemma was a good person to count on to set the table. She carefully laid out napkins and forks with precision, while Skye, on the other hand, was more inclined to stick plates and glasses in the general vicinity of everyone's place. Jemma didn't seem to mind Skye's haphazard place settings, though, and she followed behind, gently replacing Skye's lackluster work without complaint. Skye smiled to herself. She didn't really see what the big deal was, since everyone was just going to come and move their own plates around to eat off of them in just a few minutes, but she knew better than to question Jemma's organizational skills.
Before long, the table was set, and Phil laid out the food he and Skye had prepared. May returned, in more comfortable-looking clothes, and they all sat down to eat. Phil had been right about his spaghetti sauce; it was the best Skye had ever tasted. Jemma seemed a little skeptical of the sauce, and ate her noodles plain, but no one seemed to mind. May asked how their afternoon had been, and they filled her in on the shopping trip and the various school supplies they had picked up. Skye was excited to talk about her computer kit again, and Jemma even perked up to talk about her new calculator. May seemed impressed by both of their purchases, and listened attentively like Phil had in the car.
Once they had finished updating May on their day, May offered updates of her own. She told them about how she was working on a particularly tricky case at work, and how it was one that made her sad to work on.
"How come?" Skye wanted to know. "Did something bad happen?"
May nodded, her mouth a tight line. "Someone broke into a woman's home and did something bad to her, something that hurt her. She'll be okay, but it was very frightening for her, and now it's up to me and my coworkers to find the person that did it, so that he can't hurt anyone else." Skye wanted to ask more questions, but the tired sound in May's voice told her that maybe it wasn't the right time.
"Has Dr. Weaver been able to give you anything?" Phil asked.
"A little. There are some possible pieces of evidence that we're hoping will turn up some DNA, but it's still too soon to tell. Fury's pressuring us to close as soon as possible, of course."
"I know some things about DNA," Jemma offered. Her face was puckered with worry, but her eyes carried the smallest of sparkles at being able to contribute her biology knowledge. "It stands for deoxyribonucleic acid, because it's made up of nucleotides, which contain a phosphate group, a sugar called deoxyribose, and a nucleobase. And there are four of those, called cytosine, guanine, adenine, and thymine, and they pair off with one another, A's with T's and C's with G's." May and Phil looked a little dumbfounded, and Skye couldn't help but smile to herself. She loved it when Jemma got to show off how smart she was to other people, especially grown-ups.
"That's really impressive, Jemma," May told her, a smile replacing her look of surprise. "Maybe I should have you meet Dr. Weaver sometime. She's a forensic scientist who works at the police station with me. I'm sure she'd love to meet you." Jemma looked bashful and simply shrugged, looking down at her lap.
"Something tells me you won't have any trouble in Mr. DeRosa's science class tomorrow," said Phil with a reassuring grin. The mention of school brought Skye crashing back to reality, and the forgotten knot returned to the pit of her stomach. May seemed to have noticed the change in her demeanor, because she eyed her quizzically, but didn't say a word. Skye was grateful that she didn't have to try and explain all the emotions that were jumbled up inside of her at the moment.
"Good grief," Phil exclaimed then, drawing Skye out of her thoughts. He was looking at the clock over the stove. "How did it get so late? You two better start getting ready bed, you'll have to be up early tomorrow morning."
"Don't we need to do the dishes?" Skye asked. Despite the disastrous dishwashing that had taken place that morning, she assumed that the job would fall to her and Jemma.
"Melinda and I will do them," Phil said, and May nodded. "It's more important that the two of you get to bed at a reasonable time. We'll be up to say goodnight before long."
Not wanting to pass up on the opportunity to avoid doing chores, Skye and Jemma obeyed without another word. They disappeared upstairs and began the process of getting ready for bed, showering, donning their big t-shirts, and brushing teeth. Jemma made sure to see to it that Skye properly cleaned and redressed the cut on her palm, which was still red and angry-looking under the band-aid, and Skye did her best not to fuss when Jemma applied more of the ointment, even though it definitely stung. Both girls parted ways in the hall, heading for their own doors, but Skye had given Jemma a pointed look that she hoped the other girl would understand as meaning that Skye had every intention of repeating their ritual from the night before.
Skye had only been in her room for a few minutes, really only enough time to turn down the bedcovers and clamber in with her new computer repair kit clutched tightly in her good hand, before a knock came at the door and May's head appeared in the frame.
"Hi Skye, I just wanted to say goodnight." Skye offered a crooked smile. Even though Phil had done the same thing the night before, she wasn't sure how she felt about this nighttime routine of being checked in on before bed. She couldn't really figure out what kind of response she was supposed to give to someone just coming to say goodnight. Absentmindedly, she started fiddling with one of the clasps on her kit, feeling more than a little awkward.
"Is that your computer kit you were telling me about earlier?" May asked. "Can I see?"
Skye nodded, and scooted slightly in the bed to make room for May to come and look at the kit. May came and sat next to her, and Skye began to take out the pieces one by one, explaining what each one was and what it did. May seemed impressed by her expertise, and Skye sat up a little straighter. There was a brief moment of silence once Skye had finished detailing the intricacies of her kit, until May broke it with the question Skye had been hoping to avoid.
"How are you feeling about school tomorrow?" Something about the serious yet gentle way May asked made Skye feel very small as she sat on the bed. She fidgeted with the clasp on her kit again, and then with a loose thread on the bedspread for a while before answering. May, to her credit, sat patiently while Skye futzed without speaking.
"Fine, I guess," Skye finally said. She decided that generalities were her safest bet. She didn't want to get all emotional in front of May.
"I know it's not easy to start at a new school," said May. "Especially when you've had to do it lots of times before. But I'm very confident that you'll do well." Skye let out a harsh laugh. She hadn't meant to, but the idea of her doing well in school was just too outrageous.
"I guess you didn't look at my file yet," she murmured, her cheeks growing warm. "Jemma does good in school, not me. I'm not smart like her. I couldn't even read until I was in the third grade."
"Well, you can read now, can't you?" May asked encouragingly. Skye nodded, still not meeting her eyes. "Doing well in school isn't just about how smart you are, or about what grades you get. It's about trying your best, learning new things, and making progress. At least, that's what I say."
Skye looked up then, and saw that May was sincere. She mulled over May's words in her head.
"I think, for tomorrow, you should focus on settling in, maybe making a friend or two. We have plenty of time to see how you do with the material, and plenty of time to help you get caught up, if you need it. How does that sound?"
"Okay," Skye said quietly, nodding. "I'll do my best."
"That's all Phil and I will ever ask of you," May assured her. She reached out and gave Skye's knee a squeeze. "Goodnight, Skye."