Methuselah's Daughter, Part 4, Chapter 33
J.A. Eddy
Pennsylvania, April, 2005 CE
She woke me up the next morning some time after sunrise and told me if I didn’t shower and come downstairs soon I’d miss breakfast. When I got downstairs she seemed cool, distant. She was making pancakes, eggs and bacon, puttering around and humming absent-mindedly. She insisted I sit down and not help. As she poured me some coffee and put a plate of hot bacon, eggs, cakes and grits in front of me, she told me she normally had servants come in and cook but she didn’t want anyone around today.
She seemed constantly distracted, like she didn’t want anything but small talk. As I ate I occasionally caught her staring at me, only to look away quickly. When I finally started to ask her what was up, she promptly said, “So I understand you ride. Finish your food and then I’ll take you on a tour, show you around.”
Clearly she didn’t want to talk. Instead, after breakfast she took me out to the stables. Pretty soon I regretted even agreeing to this. I hadn’t been on a horse in ten years, but she took me on a three hour ride around the area, all around the estate, then through the woods to other areas, showing me the other farmhouses, pointing out historic spots where some homes and families had once stood, but were now gone and generally chattering endlessly without saying much of anything. Still once in a while I’d catch her looking at me oddly, sizing me up, calculating in some way I couldn’t fathom. I just tried to shrug it off.
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Of course we all lose our tempers now and then. Dean freely admits to being imperfect in this regard, which is why regulars to this establishment will generally be cut more slack than people who we don't know very well.
Still: behave like an adult, or go find somewhere else to play. Thanks.