“His Part to Play” - 14. A Pinch of Salt
Mar. 16th, 2021 10:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
breakinglight11Forever Captain:
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”
Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
5. Ghost
6. Stag Night
7. Wingmen
8. Mr. Carter
9. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
10. Suiting Up
11. On Maneuvers
12. Waiting
13. The World’s Oldest Battle
Chapter summary: Steve has nothing left to do but trust.
“His Part to Play”
By Phoebe Roberts
~~~
Summary: “Steve Rogers has retired to the 1940s to build a new life with Peggy. In leaving behind the mantle of Captain America, at last he’s got a measure of peace. Still, Steve will never stop feeling the responsibility to step up as a hero— except he's not sure how much power his actions have at this point in the timeline. Somehow he must reconcile his new life and identity with the responsibility and burden of being a hero out of time.”
Previous chapters:
1. Lost Time
2. Building
3. Reaching
4. Bonds
5. Ghost
6. Stag Night
7. Wingmen
8. Mr. Carter
9. Smoke Gets In Your Eyes
10. Suiting Up
11. On Maneuvers
12. Waiting
13. The World’s Oldest Battle
Chapter summary: Steve has nothing left to do but trust.
~~~
14. A Pinch of Salt
She approached with steaming cups, carefully balancing them on a cardboard tray. “Thanks kindly, miss,” Harlan said, accepting one gratefully. “Think we could all use a little boost.”
Steve took a swallow, not expecting much, hoping at least that it was hot. But he glanced into the cup in surprise; it was better than the average ‘40s diner offering. “Hey, that’s something. Where’d you find it?”
Lottie broke into a pleased smile. “Just some regular old cafeteria stuff. But I know how to dress it up.”
He went back for another sip as Harlan cracked a grin. “And here I’d been kicking myself for not packing a flask.”
Embarrassedly Lottie laughed. “Not that! My dad is Salvadoran, and he says you can’t get a decent cup in America. So he taught me the tricks. No milk, but there was sugar— and the real secret’s a pinch of salt, to cut the bitterness down.”
Steve nodded, impressed. He’d have to remember that for the next time he fought with the packaged stuff from the grocery store; it was another way the twenty-first century had spoiled him. Suddenly he was sorry to have been frustrated with her; here she was, having dropped everything on a moment’s notice for a stranger, to try and be of help in a trying time.
He resolved to step outside himself for a moment. As he sipped, he thought back to recall something she’d said earlier, before they’d set out. “Is your dad one of the folks at home? Hope he won’t be too worried with you gone all night.”
Lottie gave an exaggerated sigh. “They sure like to say they worry. But I’ve been at the SSI long enough that they should be used to it by now.”
His lip quirked. “I guess it must be tricky to explain having to rush off with strange men in the middle of the night.”
“Really, Mr. Carter, given that office…” Her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “You’re hardly the strangest man I’ve run into there!”
Steve couldn’t help but laugh, since he’d heard Peggy say much the same thing. “I think I’m staring to see your dad’s point.”
“Not you too!” She flapped her hands and scrunched up her face. “Next you’ll be asking why I can’t just get married like my cousin Consuela.”
He dropped his head humbly and shook it. “No, ma’am. If I ever did think that way, you can bet Agent Carter wouldn’t stand for it.”
Lottie giggled. “I suppose not, would she?”
Steve asked her about the rest of her family, which spanned across New York, El Salvador, and, apparently, Edison, New Jersey. They were a close clan even across the interstate and intercontinental spread, and everyone was always in everyone else’s business— even if it was only by letter. So Lottie heard about every wedding, childbirth, confirmation, and quinceañera, with all the weight of expectation along with them.
“Sometimes I wonder if I am letting them down,” Lottie admitted. “If I’m not there when they need me. But… I just can’t. Because…”
She struggled to explain, but Steve knew that feeling. He wondered if he’d ever stop knowing it. “…you have to be here,” he finished for her. “You can’t live your life for other people forever.”
She nodded. “And the truth is, I like my job. I like working at the SSI.”
“Even when things get crazy?”
“You know, I do. I like the crazy, the— the dashing off in the middle of the night. The work there’s important, and I can be part of it.” She swirled around the contents of her own cup. “Even if it’s just to make sure folks can drink the coffee.”
“You sure helped me tonight,” Steve told her, very earnestly. “With a lot more than the coffee.” He gave her hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you.”
As Lottie glowed, Steve caught a glimpse of Harlan, smiling kindly behind his cigarette. Steve turned to him. “Hey, Harlan, you said you had a deck of cards, right?”
He nodded, and dug it out of his breast pocket. Steve looked back to Lottie.
“What do think— pinochle?”
“Are you sure, sir? Because that’s my game.”
They played and chatted over the cards, Harlan telling them quaint, rambling stories that made them chuckle, while Lottie proved she was as sharp at cards as she was at coffee.
“You weren’t kidding,” Steve grumbled, as the girl took off with yet another trick.
“Glad we aren’t playing for money,” Harlan added. “Or the lady would have cleaned me out.”
Lottie laughed. “So you don’t want to make things interesting, Mr. Page?”
“Have mercy on us, miss! We got kids on the way!”
Steve shuffled and dealt again, letting their voices wash over him, with nothing left to do but trust.
Suddenly a woman in white emerged, not the nurse matron but another RN Steve had not seen before. He jerked her way, but she did not glance at him, instead making a brisk beeline for Harlan. “Mr. Page?”
The older man perked up, clearly recognizing her. “Is it time? How’s she doing?”
“She’s just fine, sir. You can come back now. You have a healthy baby boy.”
Harlan beamed at them, breath catching. “Another boy! Wouldn’t you know it? Triple cherries!” Cards forgotten, he took two steps after the nurse, then suddenly paused and turned his head. “You going to be all right, Grant?”
Steve had to smile, that the man could think of that now. “You betcha,” he said, and reached up to squeeze Harlan’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Papa.”
Steve would not see the man again, but that night he said a prayer for the Pages.
It was almost an hour later when that door opened again. The room was still and silent. The desk attendant had stepped out for a smoke. Lottie was asleep on the floor, Steve’s coat draped over her like a blanket, cat-eye glasses tucked up into her hair.
Steve was shaken from his own doze, and he looked up, expecting the nurse matron to appear in the doorway. But the figure was far bigger than the nurse, nearly as broad across as the entire hallway. Steve hoisted himself by the armrests of his chair. In the low spill of light from the other side of the door, he was surprised at the details of the man’s silhouette, the enormous shoulders and bristling beard, dressed in combat fatigues, and— of all things —a bowler hat.
Steve rose, hardly believing his eyes. Breath bated, he stepped into the column of light now cast into the waiting room, as the rugged frame of Timothy “Dum Dum” Dugan emerged.
Dugan regarded Steve for a long moment, taking in his civilian clothes, his wire-rimmed glasses. Then he met his old friend’s eyes. “It’s a girl.”
Steve sucked in a breath, then another, then another, until they caught in his throat. Then at once, both men stepped forward, and crushed each other into their arms.
~~~
Next chapter: 15. Elizabeth
14. A Pinch of Salt
She approached with steaming cups, carefully balancing them on a cardboard tray. “Thanks kindly, miss,” Harlan said, accepting one gratefully. “Think we could all use a little boost.”
Steve took a swallow, not expecting much, hoping at least that it was hot. But he glanced into the cup in surprise; it was better than the average ‘40s diner offering. “Hey, that’s something. Where’d you find it?”
Lottie broke into a pleased smile. “Just some regular old cafeteria stuff. But I know how to dress it up.”
He went back for another sip as Harlan cracked a grin. “And here I’d been kicking myself for not packing a flask.”
Embarrassedly Lottie laughed. “Not that! My dad is Salvadoran, and he says you can’t get a decent cup in America. So he taught me the tricks. No milk, but there was sugar— and the real secret’s a pinch of salt, to cut the bitterness down.”
Steve nodded, impressed. He’d have to remember that for the next time he fought with the packaged stuff from the grocery store; it was another way the twenty-first century had spoiled him. Suddenly he was sorry to have been frustrated with her; here she was, having dropped everything on a moment’s notice for a stranger, to try and be of help in a trying time.
He resolved to step outside himself for a moment. As he sipped, he thought back to recall something she’d said earlier, before they’d set out. “Is your dad one of the folks at home? Hope he won’t be too worried with you gone all night.”
Lottie gave an exaggerated sigh. “They sure like to say they worry. But I’ve been at the SSI long enough that they should be used to it by now.”
His lip quirked. “I guess it must be tricky to explain having to rush off with strange men in the middle of the night.”
“Really, Mr. Carter, given that office…” Her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “You’re hardly the strangest man I’ve run into there!”
Steve couldn’t help but laugh, since he’d heard Peggy say much the same thing. “I think I’m staring to see your dad’s point.”
“Not you too!” She flapped her hands and scrunched up her face. “Next you’ll be asking why I can’t just get married like my cousin Consuela.”
He dropped his head humbly and shook it. “No, ma’am. If I ever did think that way, you can bet Agent Carter wouldn’t stand for it.”
Lottie giggled. “I suppose not, would she?”
Steve asked her about the rest of her family, which spanned across New York, El Salvador, and, apparently, Edison, New Jersey. They were a close clan even across the interstate and intercontinental spread, and everyone was always in everyone else’s business— even if it was only by letter. So Lottie heard about every wedding, childbirth, confirmation, and quinceañera, with all the weight of expectation along with them.
“Sometimes I wonder if I am letting them down,” Lottie admitted. “If I’m not there when they need me. But… I just can’t. Because…”
She struggled to explain, but Steve knew that feeling. He wondered if he’d ever stop knowing it. “…you have to be here,” he finished for her. “You can’t live your life for other people forever.”
She nodded. “And the truth is, I like my job. I like working at the SSI.”
“Even when things get crazy?”
“You know, I do. I like the crazy, the— the dashing off in the middle of the night. The work there’s important, and I can be part of it.” She swirled around the contents of her own cup. “Even if it’s just to make sure folks can drink the coffee.”
“You sure helped me tonight,” Steve told her, very earnestly. “With a lot more than the coffee.” He gave her hand a grateful squeeze. “Thank you.”
As Lottie glowed, Steve caught a glimpse of Harlan, smiling kindly behind his cigarette. Steve turned to him. “Hey, Harlan, you said you had a deck of cards, right?”
He nodded, and dug it out of his breast pocket. Steve looked back to Lottie.
“What do think— pinochle?”
“Are you sure, sir? Because that’s my game.”
They played and chatted over the cards, Harlan telling them quaint, rambling stories that made them chuckle, while Lottie proved she was as sharp at cards as she was at coffee.
“You weren’t kidding,” Steve grumbled, as the girl took off with yet another trick.
“Glad we aren’t playing for money,” Harlan added. “Or the lady would have cleaned me out.”
Lottie laughed. “So you don’t want to make things interesting, Mr. Page?”
“Have mercy on us, miss! We got kids on the way!”
Steve shuffled and dealt again, letting their voices wash over him, with nothing left to do but trust.
Suddenly a woman in white emerged, not the nurse matron but another RN Steve had not seen before. He jerked her way, but she did not glance at him, instead making a brisk beeline for Harlan. “Mr. Page?”
The older man perked up, clearly recognizing her. “Is it time? How’s she doing?”
“She’s just fine, sir. You can come back now. You have a healthy baby boy.”
Harlan beamed at them, breath catching. “Another boy! Wouldn’t you know it? Triple cherries!” Cards forgotten, he took two steps after the nurse, then suddenly paused and turned his head. “You going to be all right, Grant?”
Steve had to smile, that the man could think of that now. “You betcha,” he said, and reached up to squeeze Harlan’s shoulder. “Congratulations, Papa.”
Steve would not see the man again, but that night he said a prayer for the Pages.
It was almost an hour later when that door opened again. The room was still and silent. The desk attendant had stepped out for a smoke. Lottie was asleep on the floor, Steve’s coat draped over her like a blanket, cat-eye glasses tucked up into her hair.
Steve was shaken from his own doze, and he looked up, expecting the nurse matron to appear in the doorway. But the figure was far bigger than the nurse, nearly as broad across as the entire hallway. Steve hoisted himself by the armrests of his chair. In the low spill of light from the other side of the door, he was surprised at the details of the man’s silhouette, the enormous shoulders and bristling beard, dressed in combat fatigues, and— of all things —a bowler hat.
Steve rose, hardly believing his eyes. Breath bated, he stepped into the column of light now cast into the waiting room, as the rugged frame of Timothy “Dum Dum” Dugan emerged.
Dugan regarded Steve for a long moment, taking in his civilian clothes, his wire-rimmed glasses. Then he met his old friend’s eyes. “It’s a girl.”
Steve sucked in a breath, then another, then another, until they caught in his throat. Then at once, both men stepped forward, and crushed each other into their arms.
~~~
Next chapter: 15. Elizabeth
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