Sally's Secret

Chapter 9

It took a while, but Maria eventually settled into something resembling a routine. Taking care of Sally wasn't especially difficult. The hardest part was getting the older woman to admit her energy levels weren't as ideal as she pretended and her strength was fading. She still insisted on going up and down multiple flights of stairs several times a day and folding all the laundry after Maria sorted, washed, and dried.

Maria somehow managed to get some herb and vegetable seeds planted, then she checked her garden for weeds and pests daily. A little over a week after that first night, she made a real spaghetti dinner, this time with fresh pasta, a slow-cooked homemade sauce with fresh tomatoes, basil, oregano, onions, mushrooms and garlic, loaded with Italian sausage and topped with freshly-grated parmesan cheese. Two loaves of homemade French bread gave the entire Tracy house that incredible yeast aroma that drew people to the kitchen to find out what was cooking.

Even though most of the Tracys said her cooking was good, the guys and Kayo had so many other responsibilities that regular eating was still a challenge. Maria tried to compensate by brainstorming menus that could tolerate delays, reheats, and variable serving times. She also started to design portable food that could be eaten in Thunderbirds with only one hand. She used her first paycheck to buy a dehydrator and jumped into producing fruit leathers, banana chips, and various kinds of dried meats. Virgil was a big fan of her jerky and chewy meat sticks, which she made with flavours like fajita, pepperoni, teriyaki, and buffalo barbecue.

She was still working on a decent substitute for Gordon's Celery Crunch Bars which were loaded with preservatives and whose wasteful packaging made her cringe, but so far nothing Maria tried turned out crunchy enough to offer as a substitute. She didn't know where to begin on his penchant for that nasty spray cheese either. Her first attempt at sushi looked truly horrible, but it was hard to judge otherwise, since Maria didn't like raw fish herself. She was too embarrassed by its hideous appearance to let Kayo know she'd tried to make it. She took a few pictures and made notes to try to do better the next time.

Once she found a routine and could be reasonably sure Sally would not suffer any ill consequences for an hour's worth of absence, she began taking time each day to swim. The lap pool worked for a couple of weeks, but the second time she got caught in Thunderbird 1's flight path, she decided to relocate her workout to the ocean. The temporary darkness and claustrophobic quarters she could handle, but breathing all that thruster exhaust was too much. It took another couple weeks to build up her stamina, but eventually she could swim all the way around Tracy Island in under an hour.

Whenever she could listen in on International Rescue calls, she would soak up details like a sponge, but most often, she only got bits and pieces of conversations as she passed the lounge on her way from the laundry to the kitchen or when John needed someone who happened to be in the dining area while she was cooking. Slowly, she started to get a sense of how things worked and the relationships and personalities of individuals.

The most striking bit of reality was observing how incredibly positive the Tracys were with not only their 'customers', but each other. Not just having each other's backs for safety, but they regularly praised, complimented, and encouraged one another. It was so outside her past experience that she assumed at first it had to be an act for her benefit, but they did it on missions when they had no way to know she was watching. Eventually she came to the inescapable conclusion that these people really were as positive as they appeared.

Perhaps as a result of such a realisation, along with gaining a small measure of familiarity in her new surroundings, Maria cautiously ventured to add a headphone jack with a single earbud to the tablet in her apron pocket. She only used it when she was positive she was alone and it didn't interfere with any of her work activities. After all, she didn't want to assault anyone else with her off-key singalong and frankly ridiculous dance moves. She knew her playlist was quirky and downright weird with hundred-year-old Motown hits, golden-era showtunes, silly songs for preschoolers, and a dash of ancient Beatles and Beach Boys. But so long as no one else had to put up with it, what did it hurt? Her singing would never be as lovely as Virgil's piano playing, but she could enjoy music in private even though she sucked at it. She always kept one ear open so she could listen for other people and immediately halt any outward evidence of her indulgence.