Work Discussion
By Dialecticdreamer/Sarah Williams
Part 2a of 2
Word count (story only): 377
[Friday, May 15, 2020, 1:30 pm]
:: After work, Aidan gets home to an unexpected, but not unwelcome, chaos. Part of the Edison’s Mirror (Teague Family) story arc. ::
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Shandiin parked the car next to her front door, on the roundabout at the top of the driveway. “I’ll check on the youngsters,” Aidan began. “Thank you for the ride.”
She laughed. “That was no problem at all. You’ve been an amazing help at the garden. Plus, it’s not like I had to go out of my way to drop you off.”
Aidan smiled as he collected the bag. Something inside crinkled again. “The weather will be blustery for a few weeks more, but after that, I think that the walk will be a very appealing part of my days.” He waved as she climbed out of the SUV to take several steps closer to the front door.
He crossed the yard quietly.
The click of the front door opening brought a mix of voices tumbling down the stairs at him. “I don’t understand why you’re keeping the flame so low. Wouldn’t making it boil faster get us to the usable product faster?” Rory’s voice was clear, and surprisingly empty of hostility.
“Wait, where did the jars come from? Or the sugar?” Ed asked the room at large.
Vic laughed warmly. “I asked Nik. He wanted a cut of the final product. I talked him up to fifty percent.”
“Up?” Rory repeated. “That doesn’t make much sense.”
“I don’t like underpaying when I need specialized help,” Vic explained softly. “It’s a terrible time to be stingy. It’s also a good way to build resentment instead of friendship. Besides, he’s the one who supplied both the jars and the sugar.”
Aidan’s footsteps were silent on the stairs as he made his way closer to the doorway into the living room. He caught a glimpse of Mac, standing on a chair wearing the worn tan tee shirt that Vic slept in. He watched her wipe her chubby, clean fingers on the fabric.
“Why are we making jam when we can buy it in the store?” Rory asked.
Ed spoke next. “Because this way there’s nothing in it that we don’t understand. This way, we know what’s in the jam, right down to the spices or just cloves.” The boy washed his hands and rinsed them all with cool water, then dried his hands on the hem of his shirt.”
Author’s note: I keep falling asleep at the keyboard. I’m not risking a fall, so I’ve got to artificially break this up into another part. I’m sorry.