Finally, slowly, Steve calmed and quieted. His eyes felt swollen, and he knew he needed a handkerchief, not just for his nose but for Eleanore's coat as well. He pulled back, noting some slobber and snot still on her shoulder, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve and reaching for his pocket hankie.
"Sorry," he said, trying to wipe the mess from her shoulder before she got a good look at it. His voice sounded softer and huskier than normal.
"Don't worry about it," she gently removed Steve's hand from her shoulder. "I have Kleenex and wipes in the car, and I can use water like this." So saying, she swept her hand through the air , gathering drops as they fell and using them as a liquid scraper to clean her coat.
Steve blew his nose heartily, sniffing a couple of times before he put the handkerchief away. He felt embarrassed at this point, having never displayed so… much to anyone in his life. Still, he didn't think Eleanore was uncomfortable. In fact, she looked nothing except concerned and preoccupied as she stood, brushing water from her pants and leaving them perfectly dry.
"I'll dry you off when we get to the car," she said, offering Steve her hand and a small grin. He tried not to put too much weight on her as she pulled him to his feet.
"Thanks," he said as they turned back to the vehicle.
"It's no problem," Eleanore said, her eyes cast downward to keep the rain off her face.
Steve looked around at the place she'd brought them to, finally taking it in. It was off the road, in the middle of a small wooded area. The abandoned building looked like it used to be a store. Other than that, it looked like there wasn't another human being for at least a mile.
"You know," Steve began, "this isn't a good place to bring emotionally compromised super soldiers."
Eleanore actually laughed, short and soft, "I know. I thought of that when I saw it, but I also thought you needed some fresh air and space."
"I did," Steve was quiet as he walked around to get her door. When he opened his, she whisked the water off of him and out her own window.
They got back on the interstate, heading back into DC. The city enclosed them once more, and Steve felt the buildings as a protective barrier— he'd grown up in Brooklyn after all.
Eleanore was quiet, and Steve thought she looked stressed as they neared familiar territory. He wanted to break the tension, but he wasn't completely sure it was there in the first place. He decided to go with his gut, though, and let out a sigh.
"I want to apologize for my behavior earlier, ma'am." He went formal, hoping to pull her out of her shell.
"I'm not angry," she said, glancing over at him. "I know you were venting. I do that, too, only Darren and Jet hear me yell and it usually happens around once per month." Her demeanor still seemed distant as she focused on the road.
"Still," Steve cleared his throat, "I hope you can forgive me, ma'am. I'll try to make it up to you."
"Oh, yeah, I already forgave." She said absently, and looked at him worriedly out of the corner of her eyes. Great, I scared off the only friend I have in this time. "Do you mind if we go somewhere for lunch? I'm really hungry and I skipped breakfast."
"Oh," Steve had not expected this. "Sure, it sounds swell." Truthfully, he was willing to delay seeing Peggy in favor of cleaning himself up and splashing some water on his face. He was also feeling hungry.
"Great," Eleanore's bearing relaxed once more. "I just didn't want to detain you from seeing Peggy after all this time."
"Gives me a chance to clean up," Steve told her as she pulled off the interstate and into a small diner-type joint called Denny's. Steve stepped out and went around to get her door, holding the umbrella over both of them.
"The food is pretty traditional here," Eleanore explained as they walked under the umbrella together toward the entrance. "You should find some old favorites."
"I'm never picky about food," Steve said, holding the door open for her, thankful when she waited for him to open the second one as well. They were shown to a booth near a window by a young waiter who informed them that Katelyn would be their server. Steve sat facing the door, window to his left, and Eleanore was seated across from him.
Steve looked at the menu, noting that they served breakfast all day. He looked at Eleanore, who had already closed her menu and was staring out the window to her right.
"What are you having?" he asked, hoping to draw her back into conversation.
"I think the house salad with grilled chicken sounds good. How about you?" She turned to him and leaned her elbows on the table.
"The biscuits and gravy," Steve replied. "Manners have changed, too, huh?" he asked, the thought springing to his head and out his mouth before he'd monitored it. That was rude his mother's voice rang through his mind.
"Oh!" Eleanore put her arms at her sides. "Yeah, I guess the have, sorry."
"Don't be," Steve regretted saying anything. "I didn't mean… nevermind. What else is different now?" At least if I know I can avoid looking out of place sometimes.
"Nothing is really changed," Eleanore said, her eyes staring past Steve in thought. "I guess the door holding thing doesn't happen as often as it used to. And sometimes women hold the door for other people, just to be nice."
"You've been waiting for me to get your door all day," Steve protested.
"Yeah, because I thought you might. And Darren does the same thing most of the time. It's nice," she smiled. "It makes me feel like a lady."
"You… are?" Steve was confused.
"Yeah, but not like a lady lady, you know?" she paused and studied his face. "Sorry, I'm not explaining this well. See, I grew up with movies about 'old-fashioned' ladies, and they were from your time. They always had skirts or dresses on, and they were polite, and they had men open doors for them." Eleanore stopped, meeting Steve's eyes. "That's normal for you, and don't lose it. Don't try to fit in, okay?" she was suddenly earnest.
"Um, sure." Steve was now quite confused, but at that moment a young, attractive, blonde woman with blue eyes and a name tag that read Caitlyn approached their booth. She looked shorter than Eleanore was by a couple of inches, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her black collared shirt and khaki pants clung to her small frame.
"How are you today?" she asked brightly. Her eyes darted from Steve to Eleanore, then back to Steve. She gave him a bigger smile. "My name is Caitlyn and I'll be your server. Are you and your girlfriend ready to order?"
Steve was flustered, but managed, "Ah, we're just friends."
Caitlyn's expression changed from passively happy to interested in an instant. "Oh, my bad." She fluttered her eyelashes, and Steve looked down at his hands. He was used to women flirting with him by now. Caitlyn looked younger than Eleanore was, and she didn't look like his type. In fact, she reminded him unpleasantly of the pushy woman who'd kissed him before Peggy had found them and consequently shot at him. He inwardly grimaced at the memory. He'd never been good at talking to dames, and over the years he'd become more uncomfortable with it.
"I'll have water and the house salad with grilled chicken and ranch dressing," Eleanore spoke up forcibly from across the table, drawing Caitlyn's attention. Steve mentally vowed to pay for her lunch, no matter her protests.
Caitlyn's smile faded as she glanced at Eleanore. "Uh-huh." She scribbled something in her notebook with a disinterested expression before turning back to Steve with another bright grin.
"I'll have the biscuits and gravy, please." Steve glanced at the menu for drink, then added, "And a water as well." He didn't smile back, just making polite eye contact while he ordered before pointedly turning his attention back to Eleanore.
Caitlyn glanced at both of them again as she gathered their menus, her eyes slightly narrowed. "Let me know if you need anything else." And with a parting smile at Steve, she left.
"Were women like that when you came from?" Eleanore asked, watching Caitlyn leave.
Steve sighed, "Yes, they were. Sometimes they were more…" he gestured ineffectively.
"Demanding?" Eleanore laughed, and Steve felt a small grin creep across his face. It was short-lived, however, as he remembered what had happened.
"What did you need to tell me before?" he asked quietly.
"Oh, um…" Eleanore glanced around. They were surrounded by other patrons at other tables as the lunch rush began. "Are you sure you want to hear about it now?"
"If you'll tell me," Steve really regretted his behavior, but his anger most of all. She'd said she forgave him, though, so that was something.
"Well, it's just… never mind," she shook her head and began speaking in a rush, looking at Steve soberly as she gauged his reaction. "Peggy is old now, you know, and even though she's aged really well, she has been having problems these past few years. She has gotten weaker, and she's having memory problems more and more frequently. Like, at first it just looked like simple dementia, which happens to a lot of people as they age; they forget things easily and have to be reminded. But then it got worse, and the doctors tested her for Alzheimer's and it was positive." She took a breath but continued as soon as she could, "Meaning she does have the disease. It was around back in your time, but it hadn't been widely known. The cause is still uncertain, although they think genetics has something to do with it. Peggy has the earliest stages of the disease, which means her short-term memory is pretty bad. Sometimes I go visit her and she forgets I was there as soon as I walk out of the room." Eleanore sighed, "I just want you to be aware of that before you see her. She'll remember who you are, definitely, but she will probably act much different from the Peggy you remember."
Steve sat back in his seat as Eleanore began talking because he wanted to seem as calm and collected as possible. She'd spoken quickly, and the whole explanation had only taken a moment, so he silently absorbed and processed the information even after she'd finished speaking. He stared at his hands folded neatly in his lap as he thought about the life Peggy must have lived, and the memories she was losing.
Caitlyn arrived with their waters, but Eleanore said their thank-yous and she rushed off to attend to the many other customers who were now filling almost every table.
"Did she get married?" The question surprised him as it left his lips, and he glanced at Eleanore to see if she found him odd. That's what you want to know? Really?
"Yeah, she did." Eleanore didn't appear shocked at all. Steve noticed that she was most animated when she was sharing information with him. Her eyes lit up, she sat up straighter, leaning toward him more, and she put on a friendly smile. "A few years after the war was over, she married a guy who you saved when you went to rescue the 107th, Calvin Bailey. She tells that story all the time. They had two kids, Charlotte and Steven— they named him after you." She grinned a little before settling back and taking a long drink of her water.
Once again, Steve remained quiet as he thought about that life. The life he'd missed out on. Peggy had started SHIELD, raised a family, and stopped Hydra all while he lay in the ice presumed dead. He didn't know what he felt. Calm was what first came to mind. His emotional outburst from before had pretty much wiped him clean.
"I think she named SHIELD after you, too," Eleanore spoke into the silence, breaking Steve out of his reverie.
"It's probably a coincidence," he shrugged. "I bet other people had a say in the name."
"I don't know," Eleanore smiled conspiratorially. "Peggy was—is a force of nature. Really, what she wanted done was eventually what everyone else wanted done. At least that's what my mom says. She worked with Peggy for a few years before she finally retired. Which was only…" Eleanore looked at the ceiling as though concentrating on the tiles, "four years ago. The doctors think that that's why her brain is in such good shape— because she kept it busy."
"When did your mom stop working, then?" Steve wondered, hoping the question wasn't too personal.
"About a year ago, although she reverted to a part-time consultant a year before that. She told me she was sick, but she didn't let on how bad it was until she thought she had to."
"I'm sorry," Steve said again, actually feeling it. "She sounds like a wonderful lady."
"She is," Eleanore agreed eagerly. "If I turn out half as great as my mom, I'll be satisfied. She and Peggy are good friends now. Mom visits her a couple times each day and they talk and laugh and watch TV shows together. You can meet her today too, if you want. Her name is Lydia."
"I'd like that," Steve replied.
Just then their meals arrived, carried by a flustered-looking Caitlyn. "Here's one biscuits and gravy, and one house salad with grilled chicken and ranch," she said, setting the plates down in front of them.
"Thanks," Steve took the time to half-grin at her, and she smiled back sunnily before sauntering off.
They ate in quiet, Steve taking the time to savor the memory of meals like this along with the flavor of his food. Eleanore's salad crunched as she cut the larger pieces of lettuce with a fork before spearing them and carrying them to her mouth. Steve wondered if that would be enough to fill her stomach, but she looked content and finished all of her meal at a leisurely pace.
When Caitlyn carried their bill over, Steve held out his hand for it, not giving Eleanore the chance to take it herself. She just shrugged and allowed him to place the cash in the envelope as she finished her water.
"I'll get the tip then," she said, pulling her purse up from where it sat beside her.
"I've got that too," Steve said, placing money on the table. He'd calculated for a fifteen percent tip, which seemed to be appropriate. He was still a little shocked every time he saw the price of anything now, especially food, but he knew he had more than enough in back pay and interest to cover a simple lunch at a diner. Eleanore looked like she might protest, but then she let it go, which Steve was thankful for.
They got hold of all their things and made their way through the crowded restaurant. Most people only gave them a passing glance if they looked at them at all, but Steve noticed an important-looking man in a suit stare at them. Steve tensed as they passed close to the man's table, and he stood too follow them out. Steve placed himself between the man and Eleanore, hoping it was just someone from SHIELD saying hello, but not betting on it.
"What are you doing? What's wrong?" Eleanore asked, turning back to look at Steve as they neared the main entrance.
"Captain Rogers?" the man's unfamiliar voice rumbled behind them, and Steve turned to face him. He was older with white hair and a portly physique that spoke of more relaxed dinners than time spent working. His brown eyes traveled up and down Steve's body in a familiar way that made him uncomfortable.
"Sir," Steve replied quietly, "do I know you?" He felt Eleanore close behind him as she peered around his left side.
"Oh, no," the man laughed loudly, bringing the attention of some of the patrons. "I'm Senator Richard Teague. Honored to meet you, soldier." He held out his hand.
Steve shook it, fighting the urge to roll his eyes, "The honor is mine, sir." Politicians haven't changed, I see.
"Senator Teague?" Eleanore stepped out from behind Steve, eyeing the man in front of them with something like disdain.
"Now who's this lovely lady?" Teague asked, holding his hand out again.
Eleanore looked at it a moment before gingerly placing her hand in his and letting him shake it. "My name is Eleanore, and Captain Rogers and I have somewhere to be." Now that was blunt, Steve thought. Eleanore looked colder and more professional than he'd ever seen her. Her expression verged on bored anger, and her posture was rigid and tense.
"Well, I'm sure the Captain's schedule is full little lady," the Senator smiled almost condescendingly, seemingly unfazed by Eleanore's manners, "But you wouldn't want to prevent him from making a friend, would you?"
"What are you doing here anyway?" Eleanore asked. "Don't you usually frequent more upscale and/or risque places?" Steve just stared at her. She obviously does not like this man. He had to admire her ease with veiled insults, though.
"I don't know what you've heard, but I'm a man of the people." Teague made the last part of the sentence ring out across the entire restaurant, drawing glances and then stares from the other patrons. "I'm not spending their tax dollars on some expensive place when this will do just fine. Now, Captain Rogers," the man lowered his voice slightly, but people were still staring, some snapping pictures on their handheld phones. "Would you and your captivating companion join me at my table?"
"Thanks," Steve said politely, "but we do have somewhere to be. It was nice to meet you, sir." He saluted quickly and turned to lead Eleanore out of the restaurant.
"What was that about?" Steve asked as he got into the car. The rain was still pouring down, and the dog had seemingly gone to sleep in the back seat.
"I really hate politicians, and especially that guy," Eleanore replied tightly as she started the car and backed out of the parking spot.
"Yeah, but that was…" Steve fished for the word, "really cold."
"Well, my mom worked with him a few years back," Eleanore said quietly. "And he tried to get her to sleep with him, and then tried a little harder than he should have…" she steered the car into the lunchtime traffic. "She ended up spraining his shoulder."
"Really?" Steve asked, not disbelieving but surprised. "Good for her." He thought back to the man's patronizing attitude toward Eleanore and let the feelings of dislike take over for a moment.
"Yeah," Eleanore replied. "And also, he wanted to use you for a publicity stunt within a publicity stunt."
"Man of the people," Steve recalled, thinking of the people holding their phones up for pictures of him and the Senator.
"Yep. But enough about him," Eleanore asserted. "We're almost to the home. Are you ready?"
Steve reflected for a moment, "Yeah, as ready as I'll ever be."
"Okay," Eleanore said, turning right into a small parking lot in front of a large, blight-looking building. "Let's go."