Work Text:
Ingrid uses the outside of her forearm to wipe away the droplets of sweat beading on her forehead, trickling down and making her skin itch. Can't use her hands right now; not when they're all drenched in blood.
Butchering is a messy business, but someone's gotta do it.
Stanley will ask about the meat, of course. 'Oh, just a pork shoulder I nearly forgot about. You remember? You brought it home on Friday, and it was about to go bad,' she'll say.
He'll only marginally believe her, suspicion evident as wordlessly nods with narrowed eyes. Convinced she's betraying him with another man butcher, as if Derry has a plethora of them to choose from. He'll watch her closely, as best he can when not at work, so Ingrid will have to be extra careful.
It's not as though she'll be traversing off somewhere she shouldn't be. No, just work at Juniper and back home to take care of her house and husband. A good, little wife.
The knife comes down harder on the next swing.
Tomorrow word will spread about little Susan Wilkes not making it home from school. Sweet girl who lives lived just down the road from Ingrid and Stanley, who shyly waved at Ingrid but could never look at Stanley; as though the girl had a sense about people.
Obviously not a strong enough one, though.
Papa didn't even eat all of her, though he'd certainly made a mess. Apologized after, of course, and told Ingrid how proud he was of her. 'I know it's not easy, but you're such a strong girl for Papa, aren't you? Doing what needs to be done,' he'd said, and Ingrid is still herself glowing from the praise.
Even while cutting up the meat for dinner, covered in Susan Wilkes' leftovers.