Adelaide doesn't know Maggie's history, but there is a certain sense of the fragile, something bird-like where Adelaide wonders if she moved too quickly or spoke too harsh this woman might just take wing and fly away. Still, heartache does different things to different people, and there's obvious kindness here. The plethora of baby and maternity supplies and their being given away have warning bells sounding - between Maggie's demeanor and her volunteering her interest here, Adelaide is getting the picture.
She bends to scoop Charlie up from his blanket, bouncing him a bit on her hip and keeping what seems a certain safe distance in the space of Rodeo's trailer - not far enough to be awkward, but far enough that it's on the other woman to approach or not. "Say hi, Chuckles," she says to her son, whose big owlish blue eyes take in the new person with wide curiosity, while he mashes his knuckles into his mouth.
When she considers the sewing, Adelaide doesn't think of status. She frankly would turn any job down if status was the only benefit of it - she is here in camp because Rodeo and Sarge are here, and she still has that leading edge of contempt for the idea of their structure, of the rules and all the unspoken - and spoken - social strata. She considers herself outside of it, and if she's honest, she likely considers herself above it, as well. A lifetime at Rodeo's side on her pedestal has done plenty to reinforce that idea and it's unlikely the King will stop encouraging it now, after so long.
Still, she likes sewing, likes the quiet and solitary work. She smiles. "Believe me, I'd been mending Jims and Sarge's things for ages before all this, I honestly don't know how they destroy things so fast. I wouldn't mind taking a basketful to patch up whenever you need," she agrees. "That's comfort work, to me."