February 23, Winter, year 21
Happy birthday to me, I guess. Still stuck in bed… No one wants to let me out though I've been fever free for the past three days.
I mean, I understand being worried about a relapse, but I'm about to die of abject boredom here… Even reading don't interest me right now!
…You know what, I'm gonna go make my birthday cake.
After a quick peek out the window to find out where Takakura and Skye were—out of sight, Tak was in Mineral Town and Skye was hopefully in one of the barns—Claire slid out of bed and into a pair of fuzzy slippers. She might have been feeling defiant, but she wasn't feeling stupid.
And really, what harm could a little cooking do? If anything she could rest on the couch while the cake was baking. And she really was tired of being in bed.
A robe went over her warm pajamas, and she headed out to putter around her house. It needed a good clean too…
Sweeping with her kittens around was almost always entertaining, even if nothing got done. Pocket and Marmalade loved to chase the broom and the wisps of dust that she stirred up with working. And the duster was an instant target for any cat, but especially Clara, who always would bat at Claire's hand when she held it.
After the dusting and the sweeping, it was time to attack the dishes. Since Takakura had convinced Skye to stay at the farm—and Claire had loaned him Jack's old room—they had piled up.
Washing dishes was soothing, and Claire started humming as she worked.
Under Takakura's instructions, Skye had been cooking foods that would strengthen Claire back up to normal. This tended to leave a bit of a sticky mess in the kitchen, and she hadn't the heart to scold him when he was doing her work for her.
Most of the dishes needed a good long soak in soapy water, so while she was letting that happen, she gathered up the ingredients for making he usual birthday foods, taking care that she didn't overbalance herself.
Spilling everything would be annoying, and she couldn't order some of the things in less than half a day, not when Takakura wasn't around to go and pick them up. Not to mention it would give away the fact that she was up and about when both of them had told her—in no uncertain terms—that she wasn't to do anything.
"You know," she sighed down to Pocket, who was in the pocket of her robe, "I do love them both, but they can't wrap me in wool and expect me not to resent it…"
The black kitten looked up at her 'mother' and mewed, making the blonde giggle.
"Ahh, I wish I could be doing real work right now," she huffed, gathering cake ingredients, and pulling vegetables out of the fridge for a salad. "Housework is just too… simple."
And then she laughed at herself, putting cake ingredients to one side of the counter and supper ingredients to the other.
"Listen to me," her lips were curved in a wry smile. "Complaining about housework and wanting to be working on the farm. Last year you couldn't get me to do either for anything!"
Pocket mewed again, reaching up with tiny paws to catch at the sleeve of Claire's robe as Marmalade tried to jump on the counter to investigate. Tried, being the key word. The jump was good, but the kitten was still to small to reach the top of the counter, and inevitably ending up bonking his head on the underside of a drawer.
The farmer tried not to laugh, but it burbled out as the kitten staggered upright and mewed pitifully before making his way over to Claire and hopping up to hang on the edge of her robe. From there he clambered up until he was resting on one shoulder, and peering down at 'the rest of the world.'
Claire, used to this, simply moved him so that he was in the other pocket and started to chop up the vegetables for a salad. She felt like making stir-fry and maybe even some tempura. It was her birthday, so it wouldn't hurt to go… maybe a little overboard on some of her favorite foods.
After she put the salad in bowls, and the bowls back in the fridge, she started on the cake.
Pocket and Marmalade curled up inside their respective pockets and dropped off as Claire puttered happily around her kitchen, grabbing this pan and that pot and this wok too. She might not have been able to make fancy dishes, but the ones she loved were always easy.
She even rested a couple of times between dishes on the couch, drinking lemonade and reading short chapters in much loved books, some of which still showed signs of Damien's damage from months before.
It was almost past six when Skye came in and found her leaning over the stove, as if checking something. He huffed out a slightly annoyed sigh, and propped his hand on his hips when she turned around to see who was letting in the cold winter air.
"You're supposed to be resting," he scolded mildly.
"I was," she retorted. "And now I'm cooking. Because if I didn't get to do something out of bed I was going to scream!"
Skye opened his mouth, thought about what she was saying, then closed it again. Claire smiled faintly, pleased.
"I suppose we have been trying to tuck you down," he said after a minute, smiling faintly. "It's a man's prerogative to worry when his lady is ill though, don't you think?"
"Maybe… but I'm not ill any more. I'm recovering, which is entirely different."
"That depends on who you talk to."
She laughed, and shook her spoon at him teasingly. He could see a bit of hesitance in her eyes, and couldn't help wondering what caused it. However before he could ask, she turned back to whatever it was on the stove, and resumed her work.
For a long moment, Skye could almost see her with children around her. Their children, one holding a bowl up for tasting, the other—if there could be more than one—maybe playing with one of the cats behind her.
It was so vivid that he had to rub his eyes to get rid of the overlay.
"You want to help?" Claire asked, not looking back. "I need to ice the cake, but the Tempura's not ready yet. Just make sure they don't get overly dark or burned, okay?"
He chuckled and stepped into the small kitchen, more than willing to help. With him keeping an eye on the crisping vegetables, she started in with the chocolate icing on her cake.
"I still think you should be resting."
"It's my birthday," she shot back, smiling. "Indulge me."
There were so many responses to that, that inevitably Skye kept his mouth shut. When annoyed, she had a mean kick.
There was… ease in this routine, strangely enough. Like they had been doing this for ages, had known each other for longer than the single year…
"Skye…? Skye… Skye! The tempura is scorching!"
The former thief jumped, and tried not to curse as he turned the heat off, moving to drain the pot. Claire shook her head, trying not to laugh at his inattention.
"What had you so distracted?" she teased. "This is probably the first time you've burned something, oh master chef."
"It's uh… nothing," he flushed a little, "I guess I zoned a bit."
She giggled.
"You're forgiven," she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Though I might be glad I didn't give you the cake to ice."
He huffed, and she laughed, blue eyes glittering with pleasure. And Takakura chose that moment to open the door. He had a bag over one shoulder and shook a bit of snow from his jacket.
"Hi Uncle Tak!" Claire called from the kitchen. "Hang on a moment, the food's almost done."
"Shouldn't you be resting?" the old man replied gruffly.
Claire gave Skye a wry look.
"I rested. And got bored, so I got up."
Both males shook their heads, and emitted almost identical sighs. Claire had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from cracking up.
"Brought you the presents from your sister and brother," Takakura said, dropping the bag next to the dining table. "And your friends. Muffy said she didn't want you wandering the Valley with your recovery still happening, so she gathered all the gifts here at the Bar for me to pick up."
"Sounds like Muffy," she chuckled as Skye shooed her out of the kitchen. He would carry the Tempura, she would go sit down. "And I bet Pony didn't give you just what she and Jack sent either."
"Made me feel like old St. Nick," Tak grumbled slightly, "carrying a bag full of presents to distribute."
Again the farmer laughed as she took her seat, shaking her head slightly.
"Well, I appreciate the effort," Claire smiled. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that trouble."
"Could've been worse, I suppose," the old man sighed. "Muffy could have tried planning a birthday party for you."
There was a short silence, and then both Skye and Claire started laughing.
Wrapping paper was scattered around the floor of the living area. Some had made it into the fireplace, some, the cats had gotten hold of.
It was almost ten, Claire noted sleepily. Which explained why Takakura had left. He was probably going to report the success of the gifts to Muffy and the Blue Bar patrons. Most of the gifts had been new books to read, music to listen too, and things to keep her distracted while she recovered from her illness.
Jill had given her some new hair ties as well, and she made a mental note to cal her sister in the morning to deliver thanks. And the amethyst earrings Skye had given her… well, she was wearing them, and actually kept reaching up to lightly touch them.
At the moment though, she was rather disinclined to move from the comfort of the couch. Skye peered over the back at her, and chuckled.
"You look content," he said quietly. "And sleepy."
"Maybe a little?" she replied, stifling a yawn. "It was a good day though…"
"No journal writing for you tonight," he teased lightly as Claire started to roll off the couch. "Just straight to bed."
For a moment she gave him a look, but it was spoiled by her yawn. He reached out and gently smoothed some of her hair out of her face, then helped his tired little farmer to bed.
…right, no journal writing my behind. Though there's really not much to say. Other than slightly over-crisped tempura, it was a good birthday dinner. And the presents were awesome too.
Earrings… it's been a while since I had such pretty earrings like this. I guess it was a little much to hope for a Blue Feather while Uncle T was sitting there. Oh well…
I'll have good dreams tonight.