If a thing loves, it is infinite

[very_sharpe]

Thomas steps back a bit, taking a look around his apartment. The windows are open to let in the fresh air and the light. After months of living here, he's realized he could... decorate the place. He found some art to hang, perhaps stock art but it's all he can afford just now. It's nothing like Allerdale, soothing and bright. He has a more comfortable sectional, and a few bookcases now, with books on them.

On his coffee table sits his agenda book - he has two interviews this week - and an application for the local university. Though he's a little unsure that he's qualified, given his last education was completed in the late 19th century. Still, he'll hope, and he'll apply and see where it gets him.

There are two gallon-sized fish tanks: one on the kitchen color, another on a small table in the living room. Each housed a colorful betta fish. Thomas found himself a bit lonely, so used to having at least someone around all the time, that he thought something living might be nice. There are small plants sitting on the window sill: a pot of violets and a basil plant. He's never... grown anything before. And to be fair, he didn't grow these, but they haven't died on his watch, either. Surely that counts for something.

He's completely embraced modern fashion, utterly delighted by the sheer variety of ready-made clothes available. Today finds him in a pair of dark jeans and a sort of oatmeal colored sweater.

He picks up his mug of tea and the university application again, reading it over when he's a bit startled by a knock at his door. He's not expecting anyone. Thomas sticks the papers under his arm and answers it, tea still in one hand.

Comments

[very_sharpe]

Thomas laughs. "It sounds... oddly delightful, actually. I never had a cat, but I think I wouldn't mind drinking tea and petting one."

It sounds a bit absurd, but he suddenly wants to try it. "I'll have to pay a visit."

[puckandpie]

"You should! My friend Blue runs it now and she's wonderful. I try to pop in a few times a week to bake up some things she can sell there so if you come by while I'm workin' I'll sneak you a cookie or three."

It's easy to get caught up in talking about baking though and I make myself remember why it is I'm here. "Anyway, back to Edith," I say, sitting up a little straighter. "Is there any other special date coming up that might work for asking her on a date, maybe? Just in case the dance or get-together idea doesn't work out."

[very_sharpe]

"I suppose that American independence day is coming up," he says. "That's a month from now, isn't it?" That seems far away, but at least it would give Thomas time to work up to it.

"Perhaps just a picnic, how that the weather is being more cooperative?" That could be nice, right? It sounded like a good idea, anyway.

[puckandpie]

"Oh, yes, that sounds lovely!" I tell him, grinning wider. It's hard not to think about the picnic Jack had arranged for me on the beach for my birthday. It occurs to me that I could have Sharpie to talk to Jack for romantic ideas, though I'm not sure how he'd take that.

"And, if you want, you can tell me what Edith might like and I can throw some things together to eat. Not just baked goods, either. But maybe a pasta salad and sandwich fixings and lemonade. Something like that."

[very_sharpe]

"Things that would be good for a summer picnic... to be honest I've never had one," he admits with a laugh. It seems ridiculous, but really, he hadn't ever planned something like that. Lucille had, on occasion, but that was different.

"Lighter foods, with-- with something citrus flavored for dessert, I think. I'm a pitiful cook so far, I'm still learning. I'd pay for whatever you might need."

[puckandpie]

"Never?" I reply, wincing just a little when I realize how rude my surprise likely sounds. He's from a different world than mine, a different culture. There's no reason to assume that summer picnics could in any way be normal for him.

"Well, we'll just have to fix that, I suppose. And I can make you anything you'd like! Would you prefer a pie or cookies for your dessert? And, if you'd like, we can do the cooking together? Or we can set aside an afternoon sometime and cook up a bunch of things and you can decide afterward which of those you'd like to try on your own for the picnic with Edith."

[very_sharpe]

Thomas laughs, though. "Lucille saw no charm in them. And Cumberland, at least the part where we lived, wasn't all that pleasant any time of year. They certainly seemed appealing, though. When we were in America we took sun on the green. Lucille was always there, though."

He makes a slight face. He tries to push away the specter of his sister's memory.

"Something easy for a picnic. Your pies are lovely, but I'd worry about it getting hurt, or having trouble cutting and serving it."

Thomas brightens a bit. "Would you show me how to make some of the things you do?" He isn't sure he'll ever be much of a baker, but if Bitty wouldn't mind cooking with him, eh'd rather enjoy it.

[puckandpie]

He has a good point as far as the pie; those are never particularly great for picnics. Cookies or scones should be good though. Oooh, or maybe lemon bars!

I brighten a little as he keeps talking, nodding. "I'd love to!" I tell him before taking another sip of my tea. "I'll warn you though - I'm not a particularly great cook. I'm much better at baking. But I'll absolutely show you a few tricks I've picked up from watching Derek. And I promise your picnic will have no weird, murderous sisters in attendance."

I'm dying to ask him more about that, if I'm honest. But it still feels a little presumptuous.

[very_sharpe]

"I'm not particular good at either," he says with a wry smile. "I don't think I've ever baked anything. Cooking... I've figured out enough to feed myself."

His face warms, just briefly, at the mention of murderous sisters. Then he notices the look on Eric's face and his expression softens.

"Ask if you'd like... the worst I'll do is tell you I don't want to talk about something."

[puckandpie]

"We'll start off with something easy then," I promise him. "It's really not so hard so long as you know how to follow directions. Cooking is a lot more lenient and experimental, but there's a lot of science in baking so you have to be a little more careful."

Something in his expression shifts then, unreadable for a second and then... quieter. He's caught me wondering, I know, and I frown down at my hands, guilty for a second before peering up at him again.

"Why was she so angry?" I finally manage, cringing a little. "Even if she just didn't like Edith, her actions seem a little excessive to say the least."

[very_sharpe]

"We had a difficult childhood... we only had each other to depend on. Our parents were cruel. I think it made her cruel, too. And she was rather--" He hesitates a moment, thinking of how to word it. "Possessive of me."

[puckandpie]

From what he's told me about his father already, it's not hard to see the cruelty. I can't imagine how awful it would've been for both of them if their mother was just as bad.

Sharpie at least seems to have turned out okay apart from the murderous sister and the... the being dead thing.

I'd be nervous about this all being some ruse, some story to scare me except I don't know why he'd do such a thing. Especially if he actually wants my help like he seems to. Nervously, I bite at my lip, watching him a little more carefully. "She thought Edith would take you away? Is that it?"

[very_sharpe]

"Yes," he admits. "And she wasn't wrong. I chose Edith, and when I was with her all I wanted to do was start a new life with her. Away, far away from our ancestral home. Allerdale Hall had nothing for me, and I suppose... Lucille saw it as me abandoning her, as well. Nor could she stand the idea of sharing me with anyone."

He rubs his neck. He almost spoke of his other wives, but... he isn't sure he can quite admit to being a co-conspirator just yet. Bitty's been so kind to him.

[puckandpie]

Oh, Allerdale Hall certainly sounds majestic, like something I'd read about in one of those Victorian novels I never really cared enough to read back in gen ed English course. It's hard not to imagine Sharpie's life a twisted, terrible sort of book, honestly. A beautiful manor, money, and a murderous sister... it's the making of just the sort of book my mama would love I'm sure.

"I suppose that... well, I can't say it makes sense," I confess, tapping my fingers against my mug. "It's pretty awful, all told. But I suppose some people do really crazy, terrible things when they feel threatened."

[very_sharpe]

"The horror was for love," he says. They feel like Lucille's words in his mouth, and he isn't sure he likes that at all. "People will do terrible things for love."

Thomas sets his tea down. "I will not be that person, though. Her desires weren't mine, though for a long time I did not know the difference. Not until I met Edith."

[puckandpie]

It's not a concept I'm unfamiliar with, honestly. I'm all for romance, but I've seen enough newspaper headlines and Dateline episodes to know that Sharpie's not wrong. People do all sorts of awful, twisted things in the name of love. I guess it can make all of us a little crazy.

"How did you meet Edith?" I ask then, shifting the conversation a little into hopefully slightly happier territory.

[very_sharpe]

Thomas smiles small at the memory. "She was sitting at a desk, typing. I thought she was a secretary. I had an appointment to meet with her father and several other potential investors. I didn't realize they were related until after that."

[puckandpie]

He smiles a little, soft and secretive, and that seems like a good sign.

Relaxing a bit, I smile too and nod at him to continue. "But she was writing? What was she writing? Did she let you read it?"

[very_sharpe]

"She was writing. She was using a typewriter there because she didn't have one at home. She worried her handwriting was too feminine for a publisher to take seriously." He shakes his head, remembering well - though he'd only learned the latter part later. "She did. That's how we got to know each other, really. She would write and give me her drafts. I read them, we talked. It was... wonderful, really. She's so passionate about it, and quite good."

[puckandpie]

Oh goodness, that's not something I would've thought of honestly. It makes sense though given what I've learned of things from that time period, how women would use pen names or abbreviations so they could actually get published.

"You fell in love through that, didn't you?" I reply, smiling a little at the thought. "Is that when Edith found out? Or did that come later?"

[very_sharpe]

"I did. And... really the night I fell rather deeply was a night we waltzed together." He smiles at the memory. "Neither of us quite belonged there, but I could at least play the part. I'd been playing it for a long time."

His look softens a bit. "No, she didn't find out about-- about everything until much later. After we were married."

[puckandpie]

Thomas's face goes soft and sweet again and it's easy to smile at him as he talks, taking another sip of my tea as I try to imagine it. Goodness, waltzing. So romantic.

"Did you waltz at your wedding too?" I ask, grinning at him. "Do y'all have a song?"

[very_sharpe]

Thomas smiles. "I'm not sure we have a song," he admits. "I should have danced with her far more often than I did, but I-- I got caught up in the scheme of things, after our marriage. I want to get it right this time. I want to do right by her, even if it means we remain friends. But I have hope."

A faint flicker of it, but it's more than he's had about anything in a long time, so he will cling to it.

[puckandpie]

"Well, I guess if there's anything good about this place, it's having a second chance at things" I tell him, brightening just a little when I realize how sincere he really seems. I haven't doubted his affection for Edith since the minute he first told me about her and even now, after knowing a little bit more, I still don't. It seems obvious to me that he really, really loves her and I guess that's what matters most here.

"If you love her even half as much as you seem to, I've a feeling it'll work out this time," I say, giving him a quick, friendly wink. "Just you wait and see, Sharpie. I have a lot of faith in the power of love."