Steve moved over to the foot of the bed and picked up the discarded blankets. He thought about covering her up, but remembered how uncomfortable fevers could make a person - probably how the blankets had ended up by her feet in the first place - and instead settled them loosely beside her, so she could grab the edge and cover herself easily if she got chills.
"Holler if you need anything," he said, before thinking about how sore her throat already was. "Or text me, I've still got my phone in my pocket." It seemed kind of silly to him, texting someone who was just a couple rooms away, but it was also amazingly convenient if you couldn't talk well.
In the kitchen, he set up a large pot with water, cutting and adding vegetables while the water started heating, then set to work on deboning the chicken and cutting it into bite-size pieces. Once he'd added the chicken, he also added a few liberal dashes of seasonings; he wasn't really working from a recipe, just his own memory of watching his mother and what she had done. She also hadn't used a recipe, per sé, not a written one anyway. Just a general sense of what should be added and approximately when, knowledge handed down from her own mother. The motions were familiar, no matter how long it had been since he'd done this or watched it, and it helped soothe some of his nerves at seeing Rogue so sick.
Once the soup was boiling, he started the kettle heating for water for the Jell-O. He started putting the extra boxes of Jell-O and pudding away as he waited, glancing at each one before organizing them in the cupboard.
That's when he noticed it. The instructions on some of the pudding boxes were... wrong. You just added cold milk to the mix and then... that was it? He started comparing the instructions on all the boxes, and realized some were what he was used to - heat milk, add mix while stirring, let simmer, let cool, etc - and some were just 'add milk', basically.
Steve blew out a flummoxed puff of breath. He really was starting to acclimate and enjoy the 21st Century... but Jesus, people had gotten lazy.
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branchandroot
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Date: 2017-02-16 05:19 pm (UTC)"Holler if you need anything," he said, before thinking about how sore her throat already was. "Or text me, I've still got my phone in my pocket." It seemed kind of silly to him, texting someone who was just a couple rooms away, but it was also amazingly convenient if you couldn't talk well.
In the kitchen, he set up a large pot with water, cutting and adding vegetables while the water started heating, then set to work on deboning the chicken and cutting it into bite-size pieces. Once he'd added the chicken, he also added a few liberal dashes of seasonings; he wasn't really working from a recipe, just his own memory of watching his mother and what she had done. She also hadn't used a recipe, per sé, not a written one anyway. Just a general sense of what should be added and approximately when, knowledge handed down from her own mother. The motions were familiar, no matter how long it had been since he'd done this or watched it, and it helped soothe some of his nerves at seeing Rogue so sick.
Once the soup was boiling, he started the kettle heating for water for the Jell-O. He started putting the extra boxes of Jell-O and pudding away as he waited, glancing at each one before organizing them in the cupboard.
That's when he noticed it. The instructions on some of the pudding boxes were... wrong. You just added cold milk to the mix and then... that was it? He started comparing the instructions on all the boxes, and realized some were what he was used to - heat milk, add mix while stirring, let simmer, let cool, etc - and some were just 'add milk', basically.
Steve blew out a flummoxed puff of breath. He really was starting to acclimate and enjoy the 21st Century... but Jesus, people had gotten lazy.