https://archive.palanq.win/bant/thread/19869811/#19898176A familiar jaunty melody rings out from Colby Jefferson's phone alarm, waking in her in the farmhouse that she now shares with Amelia Atkinson.
>It must be getting EARLYYYYYY>Clocks are running LATE>Paint-by-number morning SKYYYYY>Looks so phonyShe sits up, grimacing as a lance of pain goes through her back, and turns off the phone. Amelia's already awake; she's been rising early lately. The farm life was agreeing with her. But it also meant that Colby could take a couple of long, deep swigs from the bottle of whiskey she had in her things to start the day without seeing a concerned frown. That was good; she was still hurting from her encounter with Kelly Omega.
It would be time to tie up some loose ends before long. She had a decision to make soon.
No, not a decision. She had an announcement to make soon.
But for now, aches and pains or not, she was going to get breakfast on the table by the time Amelia came back in. Her own mother Anna Dean Jefferson had done it every morning for her dad and three kids all these years, and Colby Adlai Jefferson was going to no less as Amelia Atkinson's future wife. (And, maybe someday, mother to their kids too? They were both women, but there was adoption. And there were other ways. But no, that's a thought for much, much, much later.)
Colby had gotten used to fixing simple, quick fare as a college student and single wrestler, and then very seldom cooking at all in the Divine Mansion. But she'd learned under a proper Southern cook, and if she hesitated a little as she mixed the biscuit dough, or stuck a bit of egg or potato to the bottom of a pan, it was just a lack of practice; she still knew the way. Under her skilled hands, a hearty breakfast begins to come together in a flurry of sizzling and baking. Sipping coffee for an added boost of energy (and to cover the whiskey on her breath), she finds herself happily engrossed in the familiar task of cooking.
