NINETEEN
Connor eyed the array of implements in front of him and frowned. During his time at Mint Hill, a nurse shaved him. Before, he had shaved himself, so how hard could it be to use the blue razor Mellie left him? The can on the sink was for his face, to make it easier to shave. He shook it vigorously, as she had shown him before she went to the museum to earn gold.
When he pressed down on the top of the can, blue foam covered the mirror and sink as he jumped back. Connor tried again, this time not shaking as hard, and managed to get a handful. He rubbed it all over his face, liking the way it felt—it was light and airy, and he blew at what was left on his hand, wincing as it landed on the mirror and floor. Mellie would be most displeased.
Connor marveled at how smooth his face was after shaving. He splashed water on his skin, removing the last of the blue foam, touching his skin over and over.
At Mint Hill, he was not allowed to linger overlong in the shower. Here there was no one bellowing at him to hurry. Connor still could not believe how water traveled through the pipes for him to use.
The water was hot, and he snatched his hand back and looked to the other knob. One for cold and one for hot. At the other place, there was one knob and the water was only warm. He turned the cold until the water no longer burned. He had heard the Thornton women speak of showers. How they must miss such wonders. In truth, Connor thought the women were addled in the head when they claimed to come from the future. He would beg their pardon when he returned home. He did not know how far ’twas to travel from Silvercreek to North Carolina. He would have to ask Mellie when she came home from her work. He wished he had thought to ask more questions of the Thornton women. But how would he have ever known he would travel to the future? They must be wondering what happened to him, or did they think him dead?
Connor tried to remember what year the Thornton women had traveled from. He wondered, might he meet them before they went? Could he tell them to somehow give a message to him in his own time?
Connor shook his head as he stood under the spray, letting it soothe his muscles, turning back and forth, pondering what he had been told.
One thing he did remember: the women said they worried about changing history, so if he was to seek them out and said the wrong thing, might it change what had happened? Might they not go to the past?
Thinking about the future and past made his head ache, so he looked at the bottles on the shelf. Opening one, he sniffed. It smelled of summer and roses.
He read aloud, “Body wash, lathering and moisturizing.” Shrugging, he squirted it in his hand, and it ran down his arm. It was bright pink, and while he desired to be clean, he did not wish to smell like a woman.
Connor rubbed himself with the gel, touching the foam as the scent of roses filled the air. He added more hot water, groaning as he eased for the first time since traveling through time. He looked at the other bottles—there was a shampoo, something called conditioner, and something called a moisturizing mask. That one was black, and he would not put it on his face.
He poured a generous amount of shampoo in his hand and rubbed his hair, immediately realizing his mistake, for it was far too much, and the bubbles flowed all around him, in his eyes, making him wince. It stung, and his eyes leaked.
“Bloody hell,” Connor said as he turned his face to the water to wash the foul stuff from his eyes. He was careful with the conditioner. Mellie had said it was to make his hair soft and easy to comb. She said she used it every time she washed her hair, so he would do the same. As he lingered under the water, feeling bad for wasting the precious resource, it turned cool, and he decided he should get out so Mellie would not have to heat more water for herself.
Connor picked up a towel the color of the sea to dry off, groaning at the softness as he wiped the water from his body. He wrapped the towel around his hips and stalked into the bedroom, where she’d left him clean clothes.
The pants were soft. Mellie had looked sad when she gave him the clothing. She said she thought she had thrown them away, but found them in a bag and said they would fit. They had been big on her boyfriend, and from the look in her eyes, he did not ask her more, but wanted to meet the man in the lists.
The pants and shirt were tight, and the shirt stretched across his chest. Connor frowned, took it off, and pulled on the sleeves, starting as they ripped. But when he put the shirt back on, he could move his arms without feeling as if someone had tied a rope around them.
Barefoot, he walked across the soft rug, marveling at how he sank into the softness. It was unlike any material he had ever seen in his life. He knelt down to run his hand across it. The wood beneath was warm to his touch.
Connor sat in the large chair, legs hanging over the sides as he reached for the black rectangle she had told him would make the television speak. Connor hoped Mellie would return soon, for he was hungry.
This television had many people to watch. Where he was before, there were only three choices. He touched a button and the scene changed. He did this many times, marveling at so many people to watch. Connor had picked up the black box to find something else to watch when the woman on the television confessed to tupping the brother, and that she had a baby no one knew about.
Fascinated, Connor sat up, elbows on his knees, and leaned forward, straining to hear what the man would say. Would he cast her out? Beat her? Connor knew many men would kill a woman for such doings. But he did not; the man yelled and ran his hands through his hair while the woman cried, but then another woman came in the room, and just as Connor was about to find out what she was going to tell him, the picture changed.
“Nay, I must find out what happened,” Connor yelled at the people on the screen.
But then they were talking about food and how good it was, and it would fill you up. It looked so delicious that he swore he could smell it through the flat surface.
And then the television talked about ale, and Connor’s stomach growled and he decided he must have sustenance before he found out what happened to the evil, lying wench on the screen. In the kitchen, he kept an eye on the box, not wanting to miss what the other woman was going to say. Did she know about the lies, the hidden babe? Connor had to know.
When he opened the door to where Mellie told him he would find food, he was perplexed. At Mint Hill, servants prepared the food, but in the cold box, he did not see food. There were small things in packages and round containers, and he did not know how to get the food out, so he put them back.
Then he looked at the things in the door and on the bottom of the box. Mayhap he would taste something and see what it might be. He opened the clear container, and when he smelled, his stomach recoiled. Something was dead.
He looked around and saw where she said she threw refuse, and tossed it all in the trash. He moved to the next container. He had seven of them, but none of them were good. They were all rotten. He threw them away, and then he heard the woman’s voice and ran back to the sofa to find out what would happen.
Unable to look away, Connor watched until other people interrupted again. Did this not make people angry? Not knowing what would happen next and having to wait to find out? How could they do such things and not expect a fight?
Connor grunted and went to the kitchen. A shrieking noise was coming from the cold box. The door was open, so he peered inside and took out various jars. Pickles, catsup, mustard, horseradish, grape jam, hot peppers, sun-dried tomatoes, and what looked like cheese, though ’twas brighter than any cheese he had ever seen.
Food was not what he expected here at Mellie’s home. He proceeded to taste each food, squirting the mustard in his palm and licking it, and tasting the catsup. He hoped it was not made of cats. For while many in his village said the beasts were the devil’s familiar, Connor had always liked the wee beasties, appreciating their ability to kill vermin around the estate and to keep his feet warm in the winter.
The catsup tasted good. The horseradish? He prayed it was not made of horses as he took a big bite. Immediately fire spread through his mouth and his nose. He couldn’t breathe, his eyes leaked, and he ran to the sink, lunging desperately for the knob and drinking great gulps of the cold water to ease his pain. Why did she have such a thing? It seemed only dragons would be able to eat such fire in a jar.
Connor closed it up and put it back, afraid to throw it away in case ’twas very valuable and she had purchased it from a wizard. Not that he believed in such things, but he would not tempt the fates. Jars were open on the counter as he tasted each food. The grape jelly tasted unlike anything he’d ever eaten. It reminded him of wine. He scooped it with his fingers, spilling it on the counter and the floor before he finished the entire jar. The pickles were also good, and he ate all of them.
There was something called dressing and chocolate syrup left. Both tasted good. He opened the door above the big door and found a box called ice cream. He searched through the kitchen until he found a spoon, and then had to run back to watch the screen and find out how the story would end, only to bellow in frustration as they told him to tune in tomorrow at the same time to find out what would happen. How could they do such a thing and make him wait?
All was not lost, for a new couple with different names talked of murder. Connor sat on the low table in front of the sofa, not wanting to spill the chocolate ice cream on the blue fabric as he ate, fascinated by what was happening.
In this show, a brother was dead but not dead, and had come back for revenge. Another had been asleep in what they called a coma for a long time, and woke to find his woman was now with their father. And a sister had murdered her betrothed. So many things had happened. Maybe the Thornton women were happy to come to his time, where things were easier. Connor knew people had sex with others who were not their husbands or wives. But this? Having sex with others must be quite common. Did Mellie behave this way? Then why was she sad about her boyfriend?
Mayhap he must have died, for if he had been with another woman, she would yell at him and weep, and they would throw things, and the man would bring her flowers and what they called candy and jewelry, and then all would be well again.
Connor would remember this was how everyone behaved in this day and age, and he would behave the same. For he must learn quickly how to fit in, in case he could not go back.