Bella picked up her glass of wine and downed what remained. It tasted like juice and the more she drank the more difficult it came to stop herself t0 continue treating it like juice. Luckily for her and her financial health, she had built up a healthy tolerance and was not noticeably affected. The same could not be said for the last time she'd sat next to Arthur Pettigrew.
"I remember it being like that," she said mindlessly. There were times in the Hebrides where she'd felt like a burden, like the MacFustys only pretended to like her because they felt bad for her. Then there was the time at the Hog's Head, where she got bossed around, touched by drunk men, and called all sorts of names when she missed a spot while cleaning. Those were the rough times. They had passed mostly, and she was more secure then she was then—emotionally and financially.
The dealer waved down the waitress for her, as he'd done with the two glasses before, and Bella continued staring at her cards. Arthur Pettigrew upped his bet and she eyed him suspiciously, not knowledgeable enough about the game to know how likely it was to have a good hand but mostly because she didn't know his strategy for playing. The dealer placed down another card: one that was neither bad nor good for her. She tentatively placed down another few sickles.
"I'm grateful, too," she said, finally looking him straight in the eye. "I work at the zoo now. I'm apprenticing." She did not know why she was opening up to him, not when it was a fight with him that cost her her finger, but she was going to blame it on her glass.
"I remember it being like that," she said mindlessly. There were times in the Hebrides where she'd felt like a burden, like the MacFustys only pretended to like her because they felt bad for her. Then there was the time at the Hog's Head, where she got bossed around, touched by drunk men, and called all sorts of names when she missed a spot while cleaning. Those were the rough times. They had passed mostly, and she was more secure then she was then—emotionally and financially.
The dealer waved down the waitress for her, as he'd done with the two glasses before, and Bella continued staring at her cards. Arthur Pettigrew upped his bet and she eyed him suspiciously, not knowledgeable enough about the game to know how likely it was to have a good hand but mostly because she didn't know his strategy for playing. The dealer placed down another card: one that was neither bad nor good for her. She tentatively placed down another few sickles.
"I'm grateful, too," she said, finally looking him straight in the eye. "I work at the zoo now. I'm apprenticing." She did not know why she was opening up to him, not when it was a fight with him that cost her her finger, but she was going to blame it on her glass.
— MJ is MAGICAL —