Fancy's Not My Name

She'll Always Love You

After Dottie had fainted, the dinner was ended and Jake ushered out of the house. When she woke, she was in one of the guest rooms on the second floor of the house. The Cutlers had dotted on her for the the next day as they made sure she was alright.

Dottie couldn't handle much more of their coddling and had asked to return to her duties. They allowed her to reluctantly. When she returned to the servant's wing she ignored all questions about where she'd been and how the dinner had gone. Dottie was pleased then, when Christine told her that Mr. Cutler had sworn all the servants that night to secrecy.

Three days had gone by with Dottie attacking her work and trying her best to avoid the Master and his wife. They'd called for her several times, but she'd respectfully asked Albert to decline for her. As a trusted friend of the couple he knew the proposal the family had made. And how it had affected Dottie.

Her dinning room responsibilities had been switched with another girl and Dottie took over her post of cleaning the dishes.

Jake had also been by often to see how she was doing, but she ignored him as well. Seeing as out of all of her friends in the house, Christine was the only one who had seen Jake, Dottie asked her if she could tell him she was fine, but she wasn't up for talking yet.

The news had frustrated him—as she knew it would—but her mind was too full to worry too much about it.

She was tempted to accept their offer. They were right in saying she might not have a home to go to once they leave. She couldn't expect Harriett to support her while she bounced between jobs. But her mother was still out there. She might be looking for her. And Dottie couldn't just leave without knowing where her mother was and if she was okay.

She hoped with all her heart that her mother had found a place to stay. Dottie knew that without treatment her mother's tuberculosis would eventually claim her life, but living on the streets would only accelerate the process.

Dottie sighed as she scrubbed pastry flakes off one of the plates from breakfast. Her life had become so complicated in such a short amount of time.

Another stack of dishes—these ones from making the meal itself—was piled on the counter beside her. One of the younger cooks, Nick, smiled sympathetically as he set them down. It wasn't because of the work load—he knew she could handle it—it was because of the permanent frown that had settled on her usually happy face. He didn't know what had happened, but he felt sorry for the girl. Whatever it was seemed to have thrown her completely off balance.

Dottie nodded to him and he walked away. As she set the now clean plate with the others, she found herself comparing this new job to her old one with Christine.

She liked it better in the kitchens than in the dinning room. The atmosphere was light and jovial all the time; even when the head cook was barking out orders. She was allowed to speak as she worked and often conversed with Nick and his wife Sally. She was in charge of all the deserts made in the house and had made Dottie her official taste tester.

They were a lovely couple who Dottie had made fast friends out of. They reminded her of her own parents, when life was simpler.

"How are you today, Dottie?" Sally asked lightly as she entered the kitchen. She was making fried apple pies today—something the Cutlers ate regularly back home—for the small gathering taking place that night.

"I'm doing better, Sally. And how are you?" Dottie raised a brow in a teasingly inquisitive way. The look confused the older woman but nevertheless she answered that she was fine.

"You look like you know somethin' girl," Kristy—a cook from Alabama said. "What's on you mind?"

"Nothing, just thought of something a friend said to me a while ago." Dottie turned to hide a smile. Though she didn't know it, Sally was acting much the same as her mother had in the early stages of Tommy's pregnancy.