She opened a door as he cringed, seeing the bathing chamber which was painted the color of a summer meadow.
“I know, it’s bright. Ignore the mess.”
There were all sorts of bottles and potions scattered next to the sink. A pink and white checkered curtain hid what he guessed was the shower. Aye, he was most fond of the shower he’d taken at the church.
“’Tis verra pink.”
There was a sink, also pink, and a pink pot to relieve himself. Nay, ’twas a toilet. That was the correct name.
An older man at the church found Callan staring at the row of pots and gently told him ’twas for relieving himself. When he pushed a handle and a great flushing noise arose, Callan found himself once again reaching for a dagger that wasn’t there. When the man left, Callan flushed every toilet twice, watching the water swirl away. They were verra wasteful with their water here in the future.
The black-and-white floor of the bathing chamber was cool under his feet as he listened to her chattering on about color.
“I like lots of color.” Daisy opened a narrow door to show him shelves.
“This is the linen closet. You can find towels and bedding in here, whatever you need. I’ll make up the pullout sofa for you to sleep on tonight.”
Before he could thank her, she whirled away, leaving him to follow.
Her chamber was painted a light blue that reminded him of an early spring sky. All over her home, there were pictures of the ocean, her dog, and shapes which looked like nothing but color splashed on white.
There were herbs and flowers growing in pots on the windowsills. So many large windows. Glass windows were no longer for the rich, here everyone had them. The living room, as she called it, was painted a bright yellow, and her kitchen, saints be, was a red so bright it made his eyes burn.
The furniture was comfortable and inviting, with a round table next to the sofa. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, and a desk the color of the green apples on the counter made him blink. The room smelled of flowers, herbs, and something clean and sharp.
As he stood in the red kitchen, blinking, Daisy opened a large white metal box, the cold making him take a step back, and pulled out two brightly colored boxes.
“Do you like meatballs and pasta? I hope so, because I forgot to go to the store, so frozen dinners are it tonight.”
He nodded, not sure what to say.
She pulled the box apart and took out another container with something inside that wasn’t moving.
“Do you want one or two?” She looked at him, knife in hand, then gestured to the boxes. “One or two dinners?”
He was still looking at the boxes, trying to read all the words, when she touched his arm.
“Are you hungry?”
“Aye, I could eat an entire deer.”
She nodded. “Two it is.” Daisy went to what she called the freezer and took out another box.
He peered at the box before she threw it away. “This says tis for a banquet.”
“No, it’s the company that makes the food.” She took the box from him. “Banquet Mega Bowls Dynamite Penne and Meatballs.” Then she shrugged. “Sometimes I get busy and forget to shop. Normally, I don’t like frozen dinners, but these are pretty good, you’ll see.”
She opened the door of a small black box, put the containers inside, and pushed several buttons. The box let out a loud beep, making him flinch.
“Six minutes until we eat.”
He frowned. “How does the food cook so fast?”
She laughed, as the dog, now curled up in a purple bed, thumped his tail.
“It’s a microwave. It cooks food really fast. But don’t reheat chicken in it.” She shuddered. “It comes out tasting like rubber. Use the toaster oven for that.” She pointed to another metal box on the counter, this one silver.
He watched, fascinated, as the food turned in circles, the box humming.
