Shopping with Baby (Ferris)

[Kateri Rivera]

It was one of her first times—or really, few times out—with baby Meg in tow, and Kateri was definitely…sleep-deprived.

Yeah.

Meg was like her when she was a child. Noisy, a wee bit needy, and stubborn as hell. She would wail whenever she needed the slightest thing and kick her little feet in an attempt to get attention. Kateri was just grateful that she was in her room and not currently near Dean’s, because she would’ve felt pretty terrible if he was up as often as she was.

At the same time, she was reminded of why this was usually a partner endeavor. If there were two people, neither had to get up as often. With just one…well, it wasn’t pretty.

Still, today Meg had gotten a full night of sleep, and as a result, so had Kateri. She had the baby bundled carefully into her arm—okay, with the help of a sling, but still—and had decided to wander around the farmer’s market for a little to make up some produce since, other than caring for the baby, she didn’t have much else to do other than cook. Besides, this might be cheaper and healthier than pre-processed foods.

She was just perusing oranges, Meg dozing against her chest, when she spotted someone familiar. No surprise in a small town, but it took Kateri’s tired brain a moment to process.

“Ferris?” she asked eventually. “Ferris…uh, anyways, you are a chef for Hammel, right?” She remembered him. His offerings in the staff-lounge had satisfied many a pregnancy craving. "I'm Kateri Rivera. I teach maths at Hammel."

[Ferris Macklin]

His post in the kitchen and his odd hours (coming in around 5 a.m., leaving just before 6 p.m., having a late lunch, with Tuesdays and Wednesdays his days off) meant that Ferris didn't meet any staff members that didn't turn up in the lunch line or manage to be in the staff lounge at the same time as he was. There were names that came up but that he had no face for, people he knew about but had never met. However, since he left his name on all the treats he graced the lounge with, it meant people he didn't know still knew him, if only by a name on a chopstick in a big white bowl.

The midday nap had left him more perky than usual, so he'd swung over to the farmer's market on his way home. Apples would be in soon, and the squash were gorgeous. He didn't have his bike hitched to the trailer, so he had to go easy on the gourds, but three generous butternut squashes were secured in a cloth tote and sticking out one side was a large bundle of fresh kale. Ferris didn't believe in 'super foods', but if something was going to be trendy, kale might as well be. It was strong and bitter, but chopped up, blanched, and mixed with eggs or put into a casserole, Ferris liked it. And it was freezable, which was excellent.

When he heard his name he looked up and around. A red-haired lady he didn't know was approaching him. Ferris's lip quirked when she called him a 'chef' and he smiled amicably. The little tiny baby riding on her chest had to be recent, so... she was... ah. Ms. Rivera. He remembered the name a split second before she introduced herself, and his smile widened. The 'maths' meant she was an import, like Devon. And a little like himself, though he'd was made in the US.

He offered a hand and said, "Kitchen staff. Nothing so vaunted. It's nice to finally meet you! Congratulations on the baby."

[Kateri Rivera]

Although Kateri was tired, she was still decently observant. She noticed the squashes in his bike—that was impressive, riding around with that. Kateri had definitely adopted a more American lifestyle and preferred to drive to most locals—and with the baby, that had become more practical. Meg was not the heaviest of sleepers, and noises and things that were interesting tended to wake her. Typically she wouldn’t cry, but Kateri had a devil of a time trying to get her back to sleep. And then, later in the night, she would cry, probably just over exhaustion. It took a while to get used to. Anyways, her thoughts were wandering—right now, she was just jealous of someone who could cook something other than pasta and potatoes, which Kateri had been living off of until she’d moved in with Dean.

She took his hand. “I guess my reputation precedes me.” But she flashed him a smile to show it was a joke. She didn’t know much about Hammel’s cook, other than the fact that the things he’d made were absolutely delicious. As usual, the mention of Meg made her smile soften, and she glanced down at the baby. “Thank you. I still can’t believe it myself. Are you picking up ingredients for the school here?” She nodded to the bike. “I wouldn’t think you’d have enough room.”

[Ferris Macklin]

Honestly, Ferris was a little afraid to go shopping with his car. The bike kept the amount of crap he could haul home reasonable, and was pretty much the only reason his entire house wasn't filled with jars. It was already a little ridiculous. Stress-baking? Sure, fine. Foist it all off on the staff lounge and at Roman's practice and Josh's firm. Stress-canning? A little harder to get rid of. People typically didn't react with the same enthusiasm to a jar of beets as a bag of danishes. It was alright though, he had enough stuff to last him the winter, and by winter he meant through May of next year.

Kateri's reputation was more being the only pregnant teacher than anything she might've done, but Ferris just shook her hand because he was NOT going to say that.

"Nope, just for me. The stuff for the school arrives in a truck." He grinned. "What about you? Picking up supplies? The squash here are fantastic. Very easy to make. Split 'em in half, scoop the seeds, throw them in the oven."

He knew a lot of people avoided gourds because they thought them a lot of work, when it was practically the opposite. Ferris knew nothing about being a parent, but figured a lack of time to do anything was up there. Thinking about that, he asked, "How do you feel about pickles?"

[Kateri Rivera]

In truth, it wouldn’t have bothered Kateri too much to be known as he pregnant teacher. Oh, sure, it would’ve been a little upsetting, but the reality was it was EXACTLY what she did, so why get upset about it? Besides, she loved Meg, and although how having a child had come about wasn’t really the usual, she wouldn’t have traded her daughter for any amount of normalcy.

“That’s not a bad thought. Squash?” She poked one, a little doubtfully. She had mastered baking because she had to, and had done whatever else was necessary to come to grips with her cravings, but past that, she’d never gotten the whole idea of cooking. Still, she’d get there one day. “All right. Which one’s the easiest, then?”

She glanced up at his statement, then tilted her head to the side. “I like them. Why?” She eyed him. “Don’t happen to have some spares lying around, do you?” When she’d gotten…large…her neighbors had provided her with a lot of free food. Pride had warred with hunger and lack of skill. The latter two had won, and while she did like the food, sometimes she had…mixed feelings. She was, after all, a Strong and Independent woman. It was just sometimes that conflicted with a need to eat. 

[Ferris Macklin]

Well, Ferris was still called a lunch lady, if that made Kateri feel any better. And while the math teacher was no longer pregnant... Ferris was still a lunch lady. He didn't mind. Thought it was amusing, really.

"Acorn or butternut," he said, pointing first at the pointed dark green gourds and then at the long light orange. "Both can be hard to cut, but if you have a chef's knife or a cleaver and sharpen it well it shouldn't be a problem. Cut the butternut the short way into halves or thirds before you try down the center. Then after you roast, add butter. I like adding brown sugar and a little salt, but that's me. You can scoop the flesh right out of the gourd as you eat and then just throw the skin away."

Half a squash was an easy meal. On the starchy side, but they were both young. Add in a little leftover roast and a bit of green vegetable, and it was a decent dinner. Hot. Filling. Easy to clean up.

Did he have spares. Ahahahaha. Oh god. Ferris was actually a little embarrassed to show anyone his basement, where the jars stood three high and six deep on the industrial shelves and needed to be held in with twine wrapped about the shelf ends. Overflow had filled up his library and bedroom. His chest freezer was packed, and the small, narrow fridge beside it had homemade, vacuum-sealed lox, gravlax, and bacon in it. Ferris not only had spares, he probably could've supplied the Churchkey for at least a week.

"I might've stress canned a little," he said. "Or a lot. I wouldn't mind you giving me back some closet space if you so desired."

Yes, there was Strong and Independent woman, and there was Chef With Damn Near A Hundred Jars of Pickles.

[Kateri Rivera]

Yes, Kateri had heard the lunch lady line. And she didn’t use it. Mind, she also didn’t discourage it. It was Kateri, after all. She’d be silly to discourage it, wouldn’t she? And if you couldn’t take a joke, then you clearly didn’t know how to handle things.

She eyed the squashes and lightly prodded one. “Well, all right. That doesn’t look too terrible.” She could handle sticking into an oven and letting it heat up. Besides, there were a couple of bonuses. They looked large enough that she could share them with Dean, and soft enough where if Meg had grabby hands she could try it without hurting herself. She hoped. “Thanks for the tip.” She put a couple of them in her bag, just in case, and handed over the cash to pay.

“Oh, you stress-can?” Kateri nodded, fully aware of how that went down and, surprisingly, quite sympathetic. “I solve math problems that I really shouldn’t be when I get stressed. Or I normally do. With Meg here, I tend to be too exhausted to focus much.” It wasn’t a fact she normally admitted, but compared to stress-canning, stress math-solving wasn’t too nerdy. Besides, she had a running bet with herself that almost all the men she met here were gay, so there was no reason not to show her braininess because there was no one here who would be scared off by it. This one seemed to be on that spectrum, if she was any good at guessing (and she was). “Well, in that case, I’d be happy to take some off your hands. Thank you kindly. Should I be letting you get back to anything? Thank you for the cooking tip, but I’d imagine you’re very busy cooking for a school.”

[Ferris Macklin]

He smiled when she bought a few of the squash, hoped it would be as easy as he described. For some people, boiling water was difficult. Ferris sympathized with those people, he really did. Cooking required a lot of paying attention and waiting and bouts of frenzied action. It wasn't for everyone. But squash? Easy.

"Well. I guess I do. This is the first time it's happened, but this is the first time I've ever had more than a tiny crappy apartment." Ferris certainly hadn't planned on becoming a stress-canner. And like most addictions, he hadn't realized how far in he was till he was debating storing canned tomatoes in his bathroom. "Heard the winters here were pretty vicious, so I guess something in me went all hunter-gatherer-preserver. And canning stuff yourself is so much healthier."

Not that he was trying to criticize, especially someone with a kid who was what, three months old tops? If all Kateri ate was Twinkies and tap water, he'd applaud her. "Stress mathing?" He chuckled. "That's awesome."

Stress-ballet-ing would just enforce the teacher's ideas of Ferris's sexuality, though he'd point out (again) that not all male dancers were gay. And neither were all male cooks, come to think of it. As far as the sexualities of the males of Pilot Ridge was concerned, Ferris had no idea. The only person (well, people, since he had a partner) he knew was at least bi was Josh Bernstein. Well, wasn't like he was going to tell her about the ballet anyway. Besides, he wasn't intimidated by women, smart or not. A cake that needed decorating, though? Different story.

"Nah, I'm finally off. Just stopping by on my way home. I can bring you some tomorrow, if that's okay? There a place I can drop them, or...?"

[Kateri Rivera]

Kateri had never been so bad at that. She could boil water. She could mash potatoes and make a meatloaf, even before she’d gotten pregnant with Meg and had had to work even harder to make her own meals and satisfy her cravings. A squash couldn’t be much harder than a meatloaf, could it?

Kateri tilted her head to the side. “That won’t help,” she agreed. “I’ve lived in tiny apartments for most of my adult life, so I wouldn’t know. But I miss my parents’ house.” She laughed. “You didn’t attend here? The winters can be bad. But not THAT bad. They plow. Well. Now you know.” Se flashed him a grin, then rolled her eyes. “Not when you’ve scribbled all over the napkin and have no other room. Then it becomes not very awesome.”

Kateri knew not all dancers were gay. She also knew all cooks weren’t gay. She’d dated enough of both—Kateri had dated pretty much one person of every profession at this point in time—to be fully aware of this fact. No, in this town it was more about odds. Either people weren’t swinging for her team, or they swung for the other team too, or they were in a committed relationship. Nothing wrong with all of the above, except if you wanted company on a cold night.

But she had it now. Her daughter. And that counted for something. A lot of things, actually.

“You can just drop it off at my classroom,” she said. “I show up there regularly to give my substitute instructions. It’s room 207.” She held her hand out to him. “Very nice to meet you, Ferris. I hope to see you around. Thanks for the pointers.”

((and wrap!))