Re: [Log: Gym-to-be, Marta and Holly]
Marta was working on having more consideration for others - especially people she'd grown to care for. And even though she knew that Holly knew the 'other her' better (and yeah, she tried not to look at that too closely or it started to hurt her brain), she felt like they'd forged at least some sort of connection here. It still wasn't easy for her to figure out what other people needed, but she was doing her best with the people she knew. And Holly, at least, seemed to have some patience with her efforts at the moment.
Of course, then he had to go and say that shit about a sweater and pearls. She knew exactly the look he was talking about, and her snorted laugh wasn't at all pretty or graceful. Definitely nothing that those types of women would do. Her eyebrow went up and she glanced down at herself. Granted, she was unpacking fabric grocery bags, so maybe that was part of it. But she couldn't even put herself in the same vicinity of those women in her mind. It didn't match up for her at all. "It's cold out, asshole. This is warm. And I wasn't going to wear work clothes to visit."
But then Holly reached for the containers, and Marta pulled the hairtie off her wrist to twist her hair back in a low bun so that it wouldn't get in the way of the food. And yeah, that was maybe another strike against her in the whole 'housewife' thing, but it was an unconscious motion and one she didn't particularly pay attention to. Yet another strike: the smile that curved her lips when Holly was obviously into the food that she'd brought. "Either. Spaghetti and lasagna. Garlic bread in the foil. ...soup, soup, rolls, pie, cookies." She reached into the first bag again and pulled out another foil blob that had been hiding in its folds, much smaller than the garlic bread blob, and started unwrapping a sandwich for herself.
It was a moment of metallic crinkling, and nodding at them having what sounded like a tiny kitchen set-up. But she looked up to answer his question before starting to eat. "Good. It's quiet. I manage." She reached for one of the napkins, cleaning the sandwich's slight greasiness from her fingers. "I mean. I'm manager. Not like 'I manage'." She rolled her eyes at herself. "Please say you get it? I take care of things and the people. They come in and I help them. Do the money. Sometimes cleaning." Because she still hadn't quite given that up in her head as an obvious part of her duties, no matter what Derek said.