Chapter twenty
Sheriff's station
Carthage, IL
Spencer
"Mashed Potatoes?"
"Please."
"Gravy?"
"Of course."
"These vegetables are not farm fresh."
"Are they canned?"
"Frozen and steamed, most likely."
"Worth a try."
"What piece of chicken do you like best?"
"Momma always gave me a thigh."
Spencer sighed. Yes, this was work. But it was remarkably joyful work. "What piece did you always want to try?"
"Umm." Susanna actually blushed. "I always wanted to try a breast, but if others…"
"There are several here. The rolls are still warm, but they're kind of small. One or two?"
"Um, one…two."
"There is salad but I wouldn't recommend it." It was already going kinda brown.
"Fair enough."
"Pie? It looks like apple or berry or pecan."
"I've never tried pecan."
"Soda or milk?"
"Milk, please."
With two plates truly full he led her back to the table where Will, JJ and Henry were eating. "Is it okay to eat chicken with your fingers?" She murmured on the way.
"I plan to."
"Good. I apologize for my table manners in advance."
"Why?" But then they were there and sitting.
Henry had insisted she sit next to him. "The potatoes are from twelve to three, the vegetables are from three to six and the chicken is everywhere else." He told her.
"Thank you, Henry. That is still very helpful." She replied.
"Anyone mind if we join you?" That was Rossi, with Blake right behind. "And talk a little shop? You two don't listen." He said to Will and JJ, who both smiled.
"Don't worry, we're not here." Will told him. "We're just having a late supper, that's all."
"Susanna, when we were interviewing everyone a Plan came up a few times." Rossi said it like it was capitalized. "Does that mean anything to you?"
"Um…." Her table manners were flawless, one part of Spencer's mind noticed, with the single exception of buttering a bit of her thumb along with the roll. "I've heard of something called a 200 year generational plan, but I don't know any of the details. Every year Father went on a church retreat where they were supposed to discuss it."
"Hmmm," was Rossi's only reply.
Blake looked at him a moment. "The gears are kind of creaky, but you can still see them turning."
"Hush, child." He teased back.
Hotch came up to them. "Susanna, do you have any idea where the Munks live? Or the Browns in Omaha? Or the Nestors in Holly Springs?"
"They're not on the grid either?" Blake asked.
"No."
"No, but I know Momma writes to them all the time." Susanna told him.
Hotch was quiet a moment. "Address book." He hurried off again.
"Will you tell me a story later?" Henry asked her.
"If you really want me to, but I bet your Mom and Dad here have a lot of stories they'd like to catch up on." She replied. "And you did say your godfather is a master storyteller."
"Yeah, but I like your stories too."
Susanna smiled in JJ's general direction. "I had to read him Bible stories. I hope…"
"That's all right." JJ replied. "We have Bible storybooks at home. That was fine."
"Oh I'm so glad. Besides, it was that or Bede."
Spencer nearly choked on his roll, "Bede the Venerable? An Ecclesiastical History of the English People?"
Susanna grinned at him. "Yes, have you read it?"
"Of course!"
While they went off Rossi chuckled. "Anyone else want to start a pool?"
Prairie Winds Motel
Carthage IL
The brochure said that the motel had been renovated five years prior. Spencer couldn't see where, it still had that cheap, roadside motel thing going. Still it was clean, and it was the only place in town. Spencer was just glad they thought to get rooms on the side away from the highway. "Um, is it warm enough for you? Do you want me to show you how to adjust the heater?"
"No, this is fine." Susanna started exploring the room, moving clockwise from the door.
"There's a radio on the nightstand, and a bathroom just on the far side of the bed." He smiled a little. "Can I ask you something…personal?"
"I may not answer, but you can."
"Full as a tick?"
Her grin grew wider, "Very much so."
"Because I can scientifically state that there is more hot water available in that shower than the human body can absorb, so that's two things off the list." She started giggling and blushing. She did both very well, he thought. "There is a bag on the far bed that has a few things. Garcia said that the little pouch of stuff in the toiletry bag was all for your face…wait, I took notes here." He had. Girl stuff was so complicated. First shoes, now face stuff. "She said the little pouch has stuff for your face, soap, the small jar is for tonight, and then the bottle is for tomorrow…it looks like you turn it to unlock it and then push down on the top to make it come out. That is sunscreen, and then the big bar in the plastic container is bath soap and the square top bottle is for your hair and the bottle with the sprayer on top is sunscreen for everywhere but your face and hair, and it looks like she threw in a comb."
"I'm going to need notes." She muttered. She reached in to the little bag the nurses had given her and pulled out a toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste. "Is the stuff to clean your teeth supposed to taste this sweet? It's like cleaning your teeth with candy."
Huh? "I guess so, what do you usually use?"
"Baking soda on a cloth."
"Oh." Was that all the unusual hygiene? Did he want to know? "Yeah, it's flavored baking soda. Just don't swallow it."
"Yeah, they said that." She set aside the toiletry bag and dipped into the tote. "What else is in here?"
"Some of the women at the station put a bag together so you'd have something to wear tomorrow." Actually it was Blake and JJ, but he didn't know if she'd be comfortable knowing that Henry's mom was helping her that much.
"Remind me to say thank you tomorrow, please."
"I will. Now there is a door over by the closet." He waited for her to work her way around to it. "That's to my room. You can lock it if you like but I'm not going to close or lock my side, so if you need something…"
"I'll knock." Her smile turned gentle. "Thank you so much, Spencer. For everything."
He felt his ears burning. "That's what friends do. Well, if you don't need anything…"
"I think I'm all right. Good night."
"Good night." He stepped through the connecting door; let her close it behind him. Friends, just friends. Just friends.
He got out of his sweater. He got out of his tie. He got out of his gun and badge and shoes. He got out of his contacts. He got out of his shirt….
Knock knock
Thank goodness for undershirts. "Hey…"
"Help." She said, but without much trouble in it. He followed her back to the bed where she pulled a scrap of cloth something out of the bag. "What are these? There are two of them in here and I can't figure them out."
He held it up. It was the smallest pair of underwear he had ever seen, with strings where the backside should be, which had to have once belonged to JJ because he could just barely picture them on her but he absolutely, positively could not picture them on Alex, ever. Just friends. Just friends. Just friends. "They're underwear." He oriented them the way they were supposed to go, and held them out where she could feel.
"Oh." He could see her sort it into place, then she sat on the other bed, facing him. Everyone has a breaking point, beyond which everything was too new and too much and as he watched she hit hers. "I don't think I can do this." She said.
Uh oh. "What do you mean?"
"Spencer, I don't know who I am anymore." There was a note of distress in her voice. "Over the past few years, the more I read, and listened to a new radio station…I know I'm not what my parents want us to be, I'm not a part of that. I can't be, I just…but I don't know who I am, just because I haven't been able to explore all that much. I know I prefer NPR to Rush Limbaugh and ancient and medieval classics to modern romance and up 'till now that's about it. Except now I know that I am not the kind of person who wears this little under her skirts and if that's a requirement for living in the city or the only thing available then I might be in big trouble."
Okay, he thought, rule one. Do. Not. Laugh. "Susanna, I am not familiar with women's underthings…"
"Oh?"
"Um, something else Percival and I have in common. But I used to have to help my mother with the laundry and I know what she had in there covered a lot more…coverage than this." She blushed when she understood what he had in common with Percival, but he was gratified to see her relax. "Besides, I think these are meant to be worn under pants."
"Pants?" She reached into the bag next to her and pulled out a pair of black pants, the kind probably meant for a workout. "I thought this was a skirt." She protested as she felt the article of clothing. "I can't wear this."
"Um, not to protest, but why not?"
She took a deep breath. "Just friends?"
"Just friends."
She reached down and lifted the hem of her skirts. Just above her knee was the start of some kind of pants, in the same plain, white fabric of that blouse/petticoat she was wearing, complete with a ruffle of lace. "Underwear," she told him. Honest-to-God old-fashioned pantalets, he realized, just like Scarlett herself would have worn. "I cannot walk down the street wearing nothing but a scrap and something that feels like my underwear ...Why are you laughing?"
He couldn't help it, it just came out. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't realize…." Wait, she was smiling, maybe this was okay. "Susanna, I think you should wear exactly what makes you feel comfortable and confident. I know I do, I don't see why it should be any different for a woman."
"Yeah, but do women wear dresses like these in the city? I mean I don't want to stand out too much either."
"That's the wonderful thing about cities, people do all sorts of things in all sorts of ways and no one says anything about it. Besides, I…I have to confess, I think you and your sisters look really pretty."
That stopped her, "Really?"
He nodded, "Yeah. But, um, people keep telling me that I have weird taste so I'm probably not the best judge."
She nodded. "That's okay. For now I think I'll just sleep in my underwear."
"Hopefully tomorrow they'll release the scene and we can go back and pack a bag for you."
"That would be nice, thank you. And, um, thank you for the help."
"Anytime." He felt the urge to kiss her right then but resisted. Just friends. "Okay, if you need anything else…"
"I'll knock. Good night, Spencer."
"Good night."