Elena was led into the dining area of the ship. The aroma of bacon and syrup stained the air and her stomach rumbled in response. Heat crept up her cheeks. "Sorry," she said. Her grandfather laughed.
"I suppose we did miss dinner last night," he said. "My apologies at the oversight." Elena looked around the dining room. A central table was laid with snowy linens and sparkling crystal. Around the sides were various stations where one could have waffles or an omelet prepared by the person manning that station. Remembering her favorite Sunday morning weakness, her grandfather led her directly to the waffle station. "They have strawberries," he said teasingly. Elena smiled.
"Of course they do," She replied. "You can't have a waffle without strawberries." Alexandro left her to have her waffle made. By the time the chef handed her a warm plate, Alexandro had returned with his own plate. Elena looked at his dish.
"I guess they had mushrooms," she commented, looking down at his omelet.
"Of course," he replied. "You can have an omelet without mushrooms. It would be uncivilized." They made their way to the table and took their seats. Other Council members loaded their plates and did likewise. A starched and pressed waiter appeared to Elena's left.
"Would you care for a beverage madam?" He asked.
"Coffee would be nice," she replied.
"Regular or decaf madam?" he asked.
"Regular," she said. She waited for the other questions usually accompanying a coffee order, but they never came. Instead a simple cup of black coffee was placed beside her plate. The others around the table were not asked for their preference, drinks were simply placed in front of them by the efficient staff.
"It's because you are new," Peter said taking the seat across from her.
"Oh?" she asked.
"Yes, most of us dine here often enough that our tastes are known."
"I see," she said. "So you travel aboard the Lorenzo often?" She asked, as she cut a small bite from her waffle and raised it to her lips. The strawberries smelled sweet and fresh, complementing the warm waffle. The melted butter filled the square holes and completed it. She took a bite, smiling at the taste. It brought back images of lazy Sunday's spent with her grandfather.
Waffles were the only things he was ever able to cook with out risking a fire. Personally, she always thought this was due more to the built in timer than his skill with a griddle.
Sunday was also the day Marcus and Carla took off. Carla was the cook and general housekeeper at Alexandro's house. Elena could still see the faint lines of worry that would crease her forehead as she left on Saturday evening. Leaving a reckless child and a crazy old man alone to wreak havoc on the orderly house she left behind never set well with her. Thinking back on all the damage they wrought over the years when it was just she and her grandfather, Elena found herself sympathizing with Carla's assessment.
"The Lorenzo is the primary gathering vessel for the Council and we have had to meet a bit more often as of late." Peter answered.
"Is it?" She responded, pulling her mind from her memories.
"You didn't know?" he asked.
"Therese was always the one who paid more attention to politics," She said. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the muscles tighten in her grandfather's jaw. Her lack of political interest had always been a sore point between them. "I'm just a Pilot." Her grandfather sighed and asked a question of John Havers who was seated on his other side.
Elena took a deep breath and let it go. Sore points were a matter of private family discussion. She turned her attention back to Peter. She noticed his eyes slide between her and Alexandro and realized he had not missed the exchange. Luckily, he was too polite to mention it.
"Hardly just a pilot, I would say." Peter commented. He broke his scone in half and picked up a knife. "Many pilots are still trying to break a few of your records." He spread clotted cream on his scone. Elena smiled, a bit uncomfortable with the implied praise. She hadn't set out to break any records, at least not intentionally. A matter which usually raised Alexandro's pride and Therese's ire.
"I believe I've met your cousin Therese." Peter continued. "She favors you in coloring a bit although I remember her being a little taller."
"Yes she is a good three or four inches taller than I." Elena said. In truth Therese was exactly three and one quarter's inch taller than Elena, a fact Therese made certain Elena knew.
"And her hair is longer."
"It would be hard not to be," Elena commented with a smile, running her hand through her hair. Most pilots either kept their hair long so that it could be tied back and out of the way while ship board or cut it nearly as short as the men's hair. Elena's chin length bob was quite an anomaly among the pilots.