very_sharpe | Entries tagged with greta baker

Thomas planned a day. It isn't exactly their anniversary - that has come and gone - but he still wants to give Greta a lovely time. Brunch at a place they both like, followed by a matinee of a ballet performance and a walk through the park and maybe a little bit of leisurely but last minute Christmas shopping. Tea at the little cafe they had their first date.

All of it is to give Greta a day off, and more than that, to simply enjoy themselves together, not as parents or as people that needed to work. Sure, he's decided to make plans to take Saoire to see The Nutcracker now, especially since Greta thinks she'll enjoy it. But beyond that, it's rather lovely to be free of any obligation for the day.

It's easy enough to decide to walk home - it's an unseasonably nice evening and there's no rush, they can be leisurely.

"I had a lovely day. Thank you for indulging me," he says to Greta as the house comes into view.

[[Final Screening Plot Pre-play: Dated October 18th]]

It wasn't often that Thomas felt the need to congratulate himself, but he was rather proud of how the house looked. Greta had been out of her mind lately. Not in a bad way, per se, but she'd been almost wholly focused on the baking show, and so Thomas had picked up more responsibility around the house to try to ensure that she didn't feel the need to take care of everything in between coming up with genius recipes and designs.

Today, he'd cleaned the house top to bottom. He'd bought flowers and put some in every room of the house - especially the kitchen and the bedroom. He'd even put up candles here and there for a romantic feel, and he'd cooked dinner. Saoirse was at a sleepover and Thomas was determined to give Greta a lovely, relaxing, possibly very romantic evening.

He made one last sweep through the house not long before Greta was due home, just to make sure that everything was in its place and that any dishes from preparing dinner were either clean or out of sight.

Thomas stretched after setting down a box of books in the living room. He'd gotten everything out of the apartment, and most of his boxes were in the spare room for now, to be sorted at his leisure. Important things had already been put in appropriate rooms: clothes were in the bedroom, a few boxes of books down here to put away wherever they would fit. His desk had gone up in the spare room; the rats were currently settled in Saoirse's room. He was quite grateful that the little girl liked them and that Greta was allowing them in her house. He wasn't sure he'd ever get her to warm up to them, but they were pets he could share with Saoirse.

He headed back out to make sure there was nothing left on the truck before he sent the driver on his way. That made things easier, at least - he'd hired a couple of men to help him get things out of the old apartment.

"Greta?" he called as he moved into the kitchen. He had a small box of things in there. He'd just sort of packed everything, figuring he would deal with getting rid of things later.

"I got rid of most of my dishes, except the mugs you said you liked, but I wasn't sure about some of these other things."

Thomas smiled when Greta walked through the door. "Flip the sign, would you?"

He'd given Rowan a break, sent him off on lunch. But now that Greta was here, he supposed it wouldn't be too untoward to take a little break himself. It wasn't unusual for the shop to close for lunch - he had so few staff members that it just had to be that way, most of the time. But more than that, it seemed oddly civil.

"There's something in the back I want to show you. I'd thought to just bring it over later, but this is perfect."

He liked that she dropped in to visit him, whenever she had time or whenever it occurred to her.

The apartment was clean and tidy, as it almost always was. The rat cage had been thoroughly clean, and he had a take out order waiting to be placed should either of them get terribly hungry.

That was assuming, of course, that Greta stayed very long after Thomas told her what he thought she should know. He had a kettle on for tea, and he was on his second gin and tonic by the time Greta finally arrived. He supposed he had been a bit unfairly cryptic in his invitation to her, and so when he answered the door and took Greta's coat, he took the time to clarify.

"I-- Do you remember the conversation we had, very briefly, at the Valentine Ball? About the gardens, and I mentioned my sister. Or perhaps I didn't, but I was thinking of her. But I promised you that we would talk. And I thought, since Saoirse was having a sleep over anyway, tonight... should perhaps be that night."

He was still far too sober for this, but he wanted to at least give Greta an explanation.

"I don't know how much you want to know about me, Greta. But I feel I owe it to you, if you-- so you can decide if you really... want this. With me."

Thomas tried not to be nervous. It was silly to indulge in that, wasn't it? It was just a nice afternoon tea, with a lovely woman. He should be practiced at this; it should feel like old hat.

But that was the thing: it wasn't, really. Edith had been the first choice he ever made, the first woman he ever pursued because he liked her. And now here he was again, about to spend time with someone he genuinely liked, that he was interested in by virtue of the fact that-- well, he was interested. And that meant sincerity, and sincerity meant vulnerability, and--

No, he would not get wound up about this. He wouldn't be an anxious mess - Greta deserved a lovely afternoon, and he would endeavor to give her one. His favorite teahouse was decorated for the season, and he'd gotten them a table in a cozy corner between the fireplace and a window. Since it was afternoon tea, they had a lovely assortment of sandwiches and desserts available for them to have at their leisure.

He'd dressed... nicely, but not overly fancy. It wasn't high tea, after all, and even if it was, modern tea service was quite different than what he remembered. No gloves required. A waistcoat and no proper jacket seemed appropriate.

As soon as he saw Greta walk in, Thomas rose from his seat and remained standing as she was guided to the table by the hostess.

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Sir Thomas Sharpe

The horror was for love.

Entries tagged with greta baker

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Gin, Tonic, Confession

Where there's tea, there's hope.

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December 2019

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