To Everything There Is A Season

July 10 Late Afternoon

                I put water on the stove to heat and headed back out to grab the remaining food. The table was oddly quiet as I continued about my work but maybe they wanted to discuss things with me gone. No problem I had plenty of work to do without needing to add entertaining strange men to the list. My water was hot enough by the time I had stored away the leftovers from lunch. I filled the sink with the hot water and then pumped enough cold in to make it bearable. I dipped my dish cloth into the tub of soap and started scrubbing down the lunch dishes. My hands were going to be a mess after this. I hated washing dishes and had gotten used to washing only mine once a day. One plate, one  bowl, one spoon, one fork and a glass are fast, eleven plates, four bowls, two knives and the glasses, pitchers and plate still outside were going to take a bit longer. Ah well makes heating the water worth it, I guess. I started in on the washing up when I heard a noise at the door, looking up I saw Victor standing there watching me.

"Can I help?" He asked a puzzled look on his face. Again, these men were so different from what I had known that I was forever being baffled by their actions. I gestured to the drying towel beside the sink, indicating he could dry for me. I watched his long slim fingers pick up the towel and reach for the bread knife.

"Do you play piano?" I asked, "You have the hands for it. Mine are too small to be much good at playing either of the instruments I know but I bet you can reach all the notes." I watched his face close up and felt terrible. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to insult you by implying you would bother with such a feminine pursuit as playing piano. I just wondered if you did because you have the hands for it." I said in a rush to cover my mistake.

"No miss Sang, you mistake my reaction. Yes, I have played, and I don't think it is a 'feminine pursuit'. I played for many years on stage and it is a part of my life I both hated and miss. I miss playing for the sake of playing I hate that my value was reduced to how well I could play." Victor reached over and lifted my chin, so I had to look at him as he said this. My breath caught I hadn't noticed in the root cellar, but his eyes seemed to burn, the chocolate depths of them held a fire that intrigued me. "Do you play?"

I hesitated. Did I tell this stranger, this man I was hoping to not disappoint the truth, that I did but had been deemed only adequate or did I lie and claim no knowledge of the instrument. "I play but only enough to create passable background music for family not well enough to play for guests. I've only played for myself the last few years as my mother hated how badly I played." I answered honestly figuring I would probably slip up and play where he could hear me. "Piano was one of the many womanly things we were taught in the community I grew up in. Every summer the unmarried young people were sent to a month- long camp. I don't know what the boys learned as we never saw them, but the girls learned both practical skills and more creative endeavours that would aid us in being good wives. We all learned basic herbal remedies for the more common ailments on a farm, gardening and food preservation were taught at home and camp, the basics of needle work, sewing, knitting, crocheting and cotton weaving were the core and then we learned at least one instrument so we could entertain our husband and if deemed good enough any male visitors he had over." I came to a rambling stop realising I'd said too much again. I ducked my head and continued to scrub the plates I had left.

Before Victor could say anything in response to my inappropriate over share the door opened and a parade of men bearing dishes and food entered my kitchen. I was soon assaulted by a flurry of questions on where to put different items away. By the time I had washed the last glass and set aside the water pitcher there was just one last item to put away, Dr. Green was holding a half pitcher of milk in front of him looking puzzled.

I went over to him and gently removed the pitcher from his hand, I walked into the pantry where the milk jug was sitting. The room wasn't cold, but it was cool. I slowly poured the half pitcher back into the jug and recovered it. I hope I didn't mix the milk too badly. I turned to leave and ran into Dr. Green's chest as he was standing right behind me.