This takes place before Jess leaves Thomasville.
It had been a few days since she and Henry had been to the offices. She had been in so much pain since then.
Before they had been forced to go to the Piston administration offices; after hours so she wasn't seen by anyone, she had only been home from the hospital for about a week.
Why they couldn't have waited until she was better healed to discretely dissolve her contract, she couldn't understand.
It had been a humiliating.
Making her feel like a disgrace to go in. Her makeup hardly covered her bruises like she would have preferred, plus she had hardly been able to move.
She couldn't look anyone in the eye.
The chairs had been uncomfortable and she had just wanted to go home.
Henry hadn't wanted to leave her alone after the stress of it.
The day after they made it back home, she had cried hot tears while trying to not sob too hard.
She cried from the pain, heartbreak and disappointment.
They had the air conditioner on to try and help her breathe; while Henry held her, trying to not aggravate her injuries more than they were.
Henry stayed the next couple of days, until she asked him to give her some space. Space which was well needed.
She was dressed in the comfiest clothes she had, while wrapped in a robe to try and combat the cold air from the air conditioner.
She hadn't done anything with her hair, not having wanted to touch her head unless it set off a headache. She hadn't even run a brush through it. Not that it was really long enough to do so yet.
She had been enjoying her peace and quiet when the doorbell rang.
She groaned and whimpered as she got up and cautiously shuffled her way to the front door.
She wasn't expecting anyone, nor any mail, at least she didn't think so. Her brain was always in a foggy blur when on her pain meds.
By the time she got to the door she almost expected who ever was there to be gone.
She opened the door only a little at first. On the porch she saw a well dressed elderly woman. Hair done up, wearing pearls, a hat, coat and gloves with a box at her feet.
"...Can I help you...?" She asked. Certainly this elegant older woman was in the wrong place.
"No my dear, I don't need any help. I've come to check on you." The woman said brightly, inviting herself in.
"Now let's get you seated back down and make you more comfortable again. Hm? And don't you worry about that box, I'll take care of it in a moment." Said the woman.
All she could do was let herself be herded back towards the couch with a gentle hand ever so slightly resting on her better shoulder. The woman plumbed the cushions before allowing her sit herself down again.
"There we go. Make yourself comfortable and don't be ashamed to lie down just because I'm here. Your comfort is paramount. Since you are healing. While you do that, I am going to go and retrieve the box that I brought."
She hadn't a clue who this whirlwind of a woman was and was grateful for the short break from her. Whomever this older woman was, certainly knew who she was.
She had just sat down when the woman came back in.
"Ever since I heard of your wreck, I wanted to do something for you. I've just gotten the chance to finally put this box together and bring it."
The woman patted the box after sitting in a chair close to her.
"I don't know if you're much into sweets or baking currently, but I did make you a batch of cookies. With how cool it is with that air conditioner going, I'm glad that I did knit you a couple pairs of socks. I do hope that they'll fit. There's a few other things in there that I think I will let you unbox for yourself. My grandson did wonder why I was putting this together. But you don't need to worry. None of my menfolk know I'm here. It will be our little secret." The woman winked at her.
"Wha- ...Why would your men-..."
The woman leaned over and softly patted her knee.
"They think they know everything. Thinking that they'd put a cap on everything before anything could come out. I had thought I had taught my son and in turn my grandsons better, but I'm afraid they never put any thought in to what you would think of being thrown out of what you've made a career out of. Luckily, out of any of the Pistons I'm not as careless with my actions."
"I'm sorry, you are?" She asked hesitantly.
"No my dear, I believe the apology is all mine. I've been terribly rude with not introducing myself. Margaret Piston, dear. But please, call me Peggy or Nanna."
This couldn't be happening, not a Piston. If she was anyone but a Piston... she couldn't deal with this.
She felt ashy as she blurted out her thoughts.
"I'd appreciate it if you would leave. Please."
Mrs. Piston; she refused to think of her as anything else, spoke softly.
"Of course my dear, I understand completely. I doubt you'd want to see anyone from my family ever again. Do know that if you need anything, EVER, dear, you can phone me. I'll leave my card on the table for you."
Mrs. Piston hesitated a moment turning back around.
"You will always be my favourite racer, showing up those men without any of them knowing. It was rather sly of you. I do hope you recuperate well. I will show myself out. There is no need to rouse yourself."
She could feel the tears building before Mrs. Piston even left the room.
How humiliating was it for someone like Mrs. Piston to see her like this. To see her home when she couldn't take care of it.
She didn't want anything to do with what Mrs. Piston brought. Not at the moment.
Henry found her softly crying when he came to check on her. She didn't know how long it had been since Mrs. Piston left.
"Jess...? What's all this?" Henry asked pointing at the dreaded box.
"Care package... from- Mrs.- Margaret- Piston..." she saw Henry's eyebrows dart right up.
"Margaret Piston?"
"She dropped by to give it to me personally."
"Have you looked through it?"
She just shook her head lightly. "I don't want it."
"I'm going to look through it first, before just getting rid of it. Don't want there to be anything personalized in it."
She didn't pay attention to his shuffling around in the box and pulling things out. Unless Henry asked her questions about the different things in the box.
"Why-? Would she give you a stuffed fox?"
She had to blink hard at the handmade stuffed fox Henry was holding up.
"Because she thinks I'm sly?"
"Is that a question?"
"No."
"Didn't think so."
Somehow, she ended up keeping everything in the box besides the cookies. (Though she thought Henry might've eaten the cookies.) The stuffed fox often seemed to end up by her side.