Sweet Tea (Ominis x American OC romance)

Chapter 2: Fried Chicken

~~Maylee~~

She never thought she'd get a job like this. Here she was, barely educated and able to barely be understood in this country yet she had a room and board and her employer was understanding and calm. She wasn't about to mess up a good thing, so she busied herself with making dinner. She was a good cook- she had to be with 4 younger siblings to take care of when her Ma stopped caring. Pa's death had ruined her, and her older brothers were off making their own way in the world and sending back whatever money they could.

She'd hated to leave them. She wondered how they were doing without her, stuck in that little shack on the side of a hill in the Appalachian. Had Ma come to her senses enough? She hoped so... otherwise poor Kate was up to the task.

"Hoo-wee, an ice box?" She stared at the box in the corner of the kitchen with her hands on her hips. "This house may be run down but Mr. Gaunt sure has it good." An ice box was such a luxury! It has to always be filled with fresh ice, or maintained by means of spells daily. Speaking of which-

"Glacius-" she cast softly, her twisted wand casting a blue glow of magic around the ice already in the box. With the spell renewed she opened the lid and hummed when she saw the meager pickings inside. Tomorrow morning was shopping day, then. Can't have her new employer eating like a church mouse.

Well... she had the makings of her specialty, but...

"Where in the Sam Hill are the spices?" She grumbled unhappily as she searched through the cabinets. There was salt and pepper but nothing else. Not even garlic powder!

"May grandma forgive me for the chicken I'm about to make." She sighed softly, shaking her head in dismay before she got to work.

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She wasn't very happy with it, but it was the best she could go with what she had. She'd nearly cheered when she found some onion powder way back in a cupboard, but then realized it had been here since who knew when. This house was old- everything in London was old- and she didn't want to accidentally give her employer food poisoning in her first meal.

She'd found corn along with the flour, so she'd had to grind it up herself but it was certainly manageable. Tiring, though. If she was going to have to do that regularly to make some grits her shoulders were going to be sore.

"Supper time-" she said, peeking her head back into the study to see Ominis still going over some papers. He raised his head when she called out and smiled, standing up eagerly. Aw, poor man must be hungry- but it was sweet the way he seemed to smile whenever she spoke. He'd said he hadn't minded her accent or the way she talked, and that showed her without words that he was telling the truth.

She set down a plate piled with chicken and a bowl of grits, then took a step back and waited hopefully. She figured he hadn't had it before, being British and all. She wished she'd been able to make decent chicken with spices but... from her time here in England she'd learned that spice seemed to be a foreign concept to these folk. Never was she more thankful for the revolution in America.

When he sat down and reached for a fork, he looked bewildered that there wasn't one there.

"Um... Maylee... did you forget the silverware?" He asked with a bit of a smirk.

"Nope, you have a spoon on the other side." She said with a grin of her own. "You don't heed a fork for this- it's chicken, you eat it with your hands."

"Then what is the spoon for?" Ominis asked, his hand going to the other side and feeling the spoon as if making sure it was there.

"For the grits." She answered proudly.