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[stand_unshaken]

 

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[hellfollowedafter]

Hey, Mister Morgan.

[She says it while bringing back her empty bucket and wrung-out mop, shift complete.]

Fellow asked for help in the kitchens. I said I could rustle up a fish fry and such.

[stand_unshaken]

Heya, Dancy.

[He straightens up from wringing out dirty cloths that need washing in the laundromat.]

That's good news. You like cookin'?

[hellfollowedafter]

Been a while since I done it much. But I like it alright.

[stand_unshaken]

I was always glad to have a cook at the camp. Leave me to my devices, and it's all beans out of a tin for me.

[hellfollowedafter]

If you need a spare hand any time, I don't mind coming back to help out. You've been real good to me, and I won't forget it.

[stand_unshaken]

Thank you, Dancy, that's mighty kind. I just been - treating you how I'd want to be treated.

[hellfollowedafter]

Well - I appreciate it. Plenty of folks don't, and all, especially when somebody looks queer.

[She means her albinism; she still barely even thinks of herself as a lesbian, let alone anyone calling her anything about it.]

So I don't want to leave you in the lurch or anything, with all the bums you get not helping out. But maybe I'll have some flapjacks for you to make for it?

[stand_unshaken]

Why, Dancy, I'll take that as a trade. Keep you to that promise.