fluffy white Old English sheepdog, Farley, came out onto the back porch.
"I'll look forward to it. Denki!" Rose turned back to the house just as Mr. Browning called from inside. She said, "Good mornin' to ya," as she pushed the door open.
Usually, he came to the door when she knocked or rang the bell, but today he was quick to say he'd had a bad night and was tired. "I'll try to make it snappy, then," she told him, setting about to wash the many dishes.
"I don't mean it's necessary for you to hurry." He tapped his black pipe on the arm of his oak chair. "Take your time."
She again recalled the bishop's grandson's tale and wondered where in this house the frogs and dead fishes had been discovered after the flood. A quick glance at Mr. Browning, and she doubted he felt up to talking about such things just now. She could only imagine where the critters had shown up. If they had.
She looked in the refrigerator and was pleased to find the items she'd requested. The fridge had been organized and cleaned, which surprised her, as she hadn't done a thing to it last time she was there. The butter was located in its designated spot behind the small compartment in the door, and so were the fresh eggs, all lined up in a neat row. The spills she'd noted last time had been wiped clean, as well. Had the man taken time to straighten up?
When she'd gathered the thawed chicken breasts, butter, and milk onto the kitchen counter, she glanced toward the pantry. "Do ya like brown rice or white better?" she asked, not turning to look at him.
"Doesn't matter, Miss Rose. Whatever you want to cook."
Well, how about some pork chops or a nice juicy steak? She smiled at herself, knowing she'd never talk up to him that way.
A quick trip to the pantry, and Rose found both brown and white rice on the shelves, along with several kinds of nuts, boxed cereals, and oatmeal. "Have you ever eaten homemade granola bars?" she asked, making small talk as she emerged. "I have a delicious recipe."
"What's in it?" he asked.
"Well, let's see - oats, Rice Krispies, marshmallows, and nuts, too. Oh, and sunflower seeds and coconut."
"Any peanut butter?" He suddenly looked chipper.
She smiled over her shoulder. "Yes, peanut butter and some honey, too."
"Sounds tasty."
"All right, then. I'll make up a nice batch for ya. You can nibble on them all week." First, though, she set to work making a large chicken casserole with brown rice to make it more filling to eat for several days. Next she mixed up the ingredients for the no-bake granola bars before readying his weekly dish of scalloped potatoes.
Once the side dish was in the oven, she cleaned the counters and the double sink. Then she swept and washed the kitchen floor, as well as the hallway that led to the first-floor bathroom.
After she had also scrubbed the bathroom, she returned to the kitchen to wash her hands. Looking over at Mr. Browning, she offered to dust and sweep in the small sitting room adjacent to the kitchen. It was the room behind the doorway where he always sat, like a guard. "Wouldn't you like more of the house cleaned today?" she asked, holding the broom and dustpan. "I'd be happy to."
"No, no ... and besides, the sitting room rarely gets used." He gave an uncomfortable chuckle.
Rose wasn't one to argue with a man, yet it was apparent the dust stood thick on the lamp table not but a few feet from Mr. Browning's chair. "Looks like the tables could use a good dusting, at least."
He stared back at her. "There's plenty to keep you busy in the kitchen," he said, a gruff edge to his words.
Backing away, she didn't understand why he expected her to clean only the kitchen and one small bath. "What about your bedding and linens? Don't you want them washed?" At home, every Monday morning without fail, she and her grandmother stripped the beds to wash up all the sheets and towels, and every stitch of clothing from the week, then hung them out to dry on the clothesline. She had no idea when Mr.
"I'll look forward to it. Denki!" Rose turned back to the house just as Mr. Browning called from inside. She said, "Good mornin' to ya," as she pushed the door open.
Usually, he came to the door when she knocked or rang the bell, but today he was quick to say he'd had a bad night and was tired. "I'll try to make it snappy, then," she told him, setting about to wash the many dishes.
"I don't mean it's necessary for you to hurry." He tapped his black pipe on the arm of his oak chair. "Take your time."
She again recalled the bishop's grandson's tale and wondered where in this house the frogs and dead fishes had been discovered after the flood. A quick glance at Mr. Browning, and she doubted he felt up to talking about such things just now. She could only imagine where the critters had shown up. If they had.
She looked in the refrigerator and was pleased to find the items she'd requested. The fridge had been organized and cleaned, which surprised her, as she hadn't done a thing to it last time she was there. The butter was located in its designated spot behind the small compartment in the door, and so were the fresh eggs, all lined up in a neat row. The spills she'd noted last time had been wiped clean, as well. Had the man taken time to straighten up?
When she'd gathered the thawed chicken breasts, butter, and milk onto the kitchen counter, she glanced toward the pantry. "Do ya like brown rice or white better?" she asked, not turning to look at him.
"Doesn't matter, Miss Rose. Whatever you want to cook."
Well, how about some pork chops or a nice juicy steak? She smiled at herself, knowing she'd never talk up to him that way.
A quick trip to the pantry, and Rose found both brown and white rice on the shelves, along with several kinds of nuts, boxed cereals, and oatmeal. "Have you ever eaten homemade granola bars?" she asked, making small talk as she emerged. "I have a delicious recipe."
"What's in it?" he asked.
"Well, let's see - oats, Rice Krispies, marshmallows, and nuts, too. Oh, and sunflower seeds and coconut."
"Any peanut butter?" He suddenly looked chipper.
She smiled over her shoulder. "Yes, peanut butter and some honey, too."
"Sounds tasty."
"All right, then. I'll make up a nice batch for ya. You can nibble on them all week." First, though, she set to work making a large chicken casserole with brown rice to make it more filling to eat for several days. Next she mixed up the ingredients for the no-bake granola bars before readying his weekly dish of scalloped potatoes.
Once the side dish was in the oven, she cleaned the counters and the double sink. Then she swept and washed the kitchen floor, as well as the hallway that led to the first-floor bathroom.
After she had also scrubbed the bathroom, she returned to the kitchen to wash her hands. Looking over at Mr. Browning, she offered to dust and sweep in the small sitting room adjacent to the kitchen. It was the room behind the doorway where he always sat, like a guard. "Wouldn't you like more of the house cleaned today?" she asked, holding the broom and dustpan. "I'd be happy to."
"No, no ... and besides, the sitting room rarely gets used." He gave an uncomfortable chuckle.
Rose wasn't one to argue with a man, yet it was apparent the dust stood thick on the lamp table not but a few feet from Mr. Browning's chair. "Looks like the tables could use a good dusting, at least."
He stared back at her. "There's plenty to keep you busy in the kitchen," he said, a gruff edge to his words.
Backing away, she didn't understand why he expected her to clean only the kitchen and one small bath. "What about your bedding and linens? Don't you want them washed?" At home, every Monday morning without fail, she and her grandmother stripped the beds to wash up all the sheets and towels, and every stitch of clothing from the week, then hung them out to dry on the clothesline. She had no idea when Mr.
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