2019-06-30 - Spilled Coffee

It's the day after the explosion in Downtown among other things. Sunday morning. This is one of those weeks where Byron skips his Sunday morning ritual and actually goes out for breakfast, seeing as the Waffle Shoppe isn't all that far from the Apartments. It's a pleasant enough summer day and he's seated at one of the booths with a plate of French toast made of banana bread and a cup of coffee. He has the Sunday paper spread out before him, eyes skimming down the business section at this very moment. This is obviously not a local paper. Every so often he'll look at his phone, it's almost as if he's expecting a call or message of some sort.

Magnolia is here because she likes to work here on Sundays. It's ritualistic almost how she shows up, messenger bag slung and wearing her version of Church clothes: a Seahawk's sweatshirt over weathered jeans and converse sneakers. She's got her blond hair up in a riotous bun, and she looks freshly showered but unmade-up. Then again, Magnolia has always kind of boasted on a no-fucks-to-give when it comes to make-up. She doesn't notice Byron at first because she's honing in on the counter.

Ah, Byron is in his usual business fare. The whole suit and tie thing. He more than likely will be on official business somewhere during the day if this is what he's wearing. There's another turn of the page before he absently reaches out for his coffee to take in that much-needed sip of Joe. As Byron has his own ritual on Sunday, it's no wonder he never realized that Magnolia worked here on those days. Today was a little treat for him. Something much needed, apparently.

When he's about to set his cup down, it hits the edge of his plate, making the contents spill out over the remainder of his French toast as well as on the table proper. There's splashes of it dripping onto his clothing, which makes him abruptly rise to stand in the hopes of avoiding getting his dark slacks drenched completely, wanting to minimize the damage. "God damnit." That Sunday paper? Yeah, part of is soaking wet.

Magnolia has already been delivered her cup of coffee. She is taking a sip just as there's the sound of a real tragic upset. She turns in her stool and spots Byron with a little tip of her smile. He's impossible to forget, so she's out of her chair and crossing toward him with a little casual swagger to her stride, messenger bag having been picked back up and her mug carried with her. She offers him a napkin. "Hey Ron, you're lookin' chipper."

The newspaper is snatched out of the stream of coffee's grasp, but since it's already wet, it's dripping as well. The part of the booth that he'd been seated at, that seat is also pooling with coffee. Byron is not having the best of mornings and he's almost ready to snap at the helpful voice speaking out to him. Addressing him even with that nickname that he hadn't heard since, well, the other day, but aside from that, since childhood.

"Chipper? That's fre--" He starts and only then realizes who this waitress is. "Maggie?" Hey, they are using nicknames! "Didn't expect to see you working here." Taking the napkins, the first thing he does is start to blot at the front of his pants. It's a good thing that those slacks are dark or there may be a more noticeable stain. "Thanks. Some morning, eh?"

Magnolia's smile is one of those wide, brilliant grins that crinkle up at her eyes. It's a kind of knock-you-down smile, and boy does she know how to use it. When she replies, her voice as slipped into a delightful Southern drawl, "Why, yes sir, been workin' here since Momma ran off with that potato salesman from over in Fife." Her nose wrinkles, and then she gives his shoulder a little punch before she starts to wipe up the coffee. The accent melts away. "Nah, not working here... I mean, I am, just not at the diner. I come by on Sunday to do some casework, but otherwise, I'm here strictly for the waffles and maple syrup. It's really a 50/50 draw." Beat. Then she waves her hand dismissive. "Nah, what am I saying, I'm really here for the syrup. I chug it by the gallon." Then she hauls herself on up into the stool beside him, watching him mop up the coffee like a brow. She hooks her elbow onto the counter's surface, propping up her cheek as she observes with those inquisitive gray eyes.

Seeing the way Magnolia's face lights up when she smiles at him, Byron flashes her one of his own. It's a slightly embarrassed sort of smile really; he'd been so clumsy to spill coffee all over him and then that feeling of annoyance that followed. Still, he's dabbing away at what sometimes feels like an ever-growing stain on the lap of his dress slacks, but that's the anxiety that builds when it happens to you. That smile grows even wider when she speaks in that Southern drawl. Eyes uplifted, giving the area a good sweep over, he comes out and mutters, "With the slow service this Sunday morning, you may as well be working here. First person on the scene." That's when one of the other waitresses finally comes over to gauge the situation, then hurries off to get an actual mop.

"The slow reaction time aside, this is a pretty good place for breakfast stuff, that's for sure." He also can't help but laugh at this image that he has in his mind o her chugging down that gallon of syrup. "So that's the secret to keeping to that sweet and sunny demeanor. I'll have to remember that." One of the kitchen boys now shows up to do the actual mopping, while the waitress that ran off hands him both a dry and damp towel to further clean himself up with.

Hands feeling at the front of his suit jacket to see if any of the coffee got spilled onto that, luckily for him, he'd worn the jacket open. Thus, it's removed right now and hunt at the back of his hair, so as there is no possible way for it to get saturated in any way. "Busy on a case, eh? Something in town? Something that you'd feel free to gossip about?" He's joking, really he is! Taking the damp towel he begins to pat some of that against the stain of his pants, but for the most part, this will just have to do.

The embarrassed smile is given hardly any notice as Magnolia is waving to the dude manning the counter and points between her and Bryon. "Fresh coffee, and he's going to have the strawberry waffles-- " Byron better like strawberries, but he could negotiate to trade. If he's lucky. "-- and I would like the bacon waffles, and can we both get extra syrup. Oh!" She waves her hand for the guy to wait, not that he was drifting off yet. "And I'd like a little container of chocolate sauce for the coffee." Then she pivots back toward Byron, hooking one elbow on the counter once more.

Her smile broadens again. "Oh yeah. Just send me syrup wrapped with a bow." Then the coffee is delivered, and she starts to stir in the chocolate syrup before adding some half-and-half. Then she looks back up to Byron while working on her coffee. "Oh, just a missing husband case... pretty sure he's taken off to Reno, but Wifey wants me to find him. She thinks he's missing, but not even the cops are willing to write up a missing person's report."

"Strawberry waffles?" Byron asks with a rise of one brow, his dark eyes looking inquisitively on Magnolia, before he's grinning again. "And you order the bacon waffle for yourself."This is all said when he slips back into the chair, a hand allowing the actual Waffle Shoppe staff to take away his soaked paper. He'll just have to read it online. "You know, I'm gonna have to take a bite out of that. Just a small one." He's then smiling back at the waitress once the order is placed, "You heard the lady."

When their coffee arrives first, as he's stirring in some Irish cream and sugar into his cup, very curious eyes look out to stare at Magnolia pouring chocolate sauce into her own cup. "I tend to order flavored macchiatos and lattes, but I've never, in my life, added chocolate sauce to just a regular coffee. Interesting. About this case, he then asks, "Someone from town?" He asks nosily of this couple, lifting the mug to his lips for that initial taste.

"You look like a secret strawberry waffles guy," Magnolia quips back easily. Then she is back to stirring up her coffee, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "Alright. I'll give you a bite, but I want whipped cream." She takes a sip of her chocolatey coffee, and she smiles-- there's that forever sadness at the corners. "Dad used to put chocolate in his coffee on Sundays. I started to after he died." Little confession between two people who share a pain. She takes a sip. Then she shakes her head. "Yeah. But you know I'm not going to share details of an ongoing investigation." She offers him a quick grin. "I'll let you know if that changes."

Finally, she asks more companionably, "How are you doing lately?"

"Well, I can't say that I'm opposed." Byron says, his words laced with light laughter. "In truth, I"m not all that picky. Breakfast is breakfast and on most days, I only have coffee." As they continue to try to negotiate this bit of sharing of waffles, he is quick to respond to the mention of whipped cream, "Deal."

His observation was an innocent one, but when she brings up that she'd only begun to do the same, to follow in her father's footsteps of how he preferred his coffee, the smile on Thorne's face softly fades. There's this brief moment where he's observing her quietly, watching that sad smile and the way she speaks so fondly, yet touched with sorrow. His own gaze drifts off as he has some vivid memories of those days, for good or bad, but Detective Jones was one of the positive forces in his life. "I just might have to try that then."

Byron really didn't expect to be told much about the investigation but when he's asked about his own life, he considers, "You know, same town craziness. My girlfriend moved here from L.A. Surprised even me, since I thought she was heading to New York City to open up her psychiatry practice. Aaand... " He elongates that word, but mutters out the rest, "Recently, she was fully embraced and welcomed by Gray Harbors brand of..." An idle gesture of is hand, "Crazy." Yes, he'd used that word before, but it fits the town pretty much. He then stops to consider, licking at his lips, before finally reaching out to Magnolia with his gaze. " With all that you know about the town, do you think it's crazy that I'm preparing a town wide Masquerade to help drum up some tourism in the hopes that, in the long run, it's one cog in the machine to help repair Gray Harbor's flagging economy?"

"It's proven that unless you are engaging in intermittent fasting that you should have breakfast." Magnolia's mouth twitches. "But I usually like wine for breakfast." Then she takes another sip of coffee as she rests her weight into her elbows. This also allows her to look away as he observes her, waiting until the moment passes. Then she glances back toward him, and she smiles wryly. "Yeah. You should. You're missing out, Thorne."

Then she arches her brows, and that brilliant smile illuminates her face once more. "Gasp. Ron has a girlfriend?" She turns slightly toward him now, brows arched. "Now I'm all disappointed. Years, decades, of nursing my Byron Thorne crush-- " She gets dramatically tearful without actually tearing up. "-- and you break my heart like that." Then, as more details spill out, she looks away. "Yeah. I know." She folds her arms in front of her. Then, with a little gesture with her forefinger and middle finger of her right hand, she casually scoots her coffee mug toward him. Then she props her cheek on her knuckles, and looks at Byron.

"Wine? And you complain about my taking coffee for breakfast." Byron says, practically scoffing at that. He then takes a sip from his cup, before quickly following up with, "Not that there's anything wrong with wine for breakfast. Moderation is key. Now, if you're polishing off the whole bottle, then I'll start to worry."

He's mid-sip when Magnolia starts ribbing him on this girlfriend business, which causes him to cough. It's more of a loud clearing of his throat rather than him choking back on coffee. In fact, it's the cough that actually prevents him from choking. "You remember how unlucky I was in school when it came to girls. My first," He can't say girlfriend or will he say love interest. This isn't a book or movie, "The first girl who I ever kissed cut me out of her life when we were 14." He wears this grin on his lips, as if thinking fondly back on those days, strangely. "She had her reasons." He continues on, "Then the girl I was thinking of taking to prom was sent away to another school in another state before I got the chance to ask." There's this sobering hint to his voice, when he says in an almost repeat of what he's said earlier, "She had her reasons too."

As he relays this information, which Magnolia probably knows some tidbits about, his eyes are distant as he thinks back on those days. He then notices the cup of Joe, just the way that Detective Jones used to like it, being pushed in his direction. Only then does he return his attention to her in full, gracing her with a smile. "If I'd only known." He plays along with the dramatics, "You could've saved me from a lot of heartaches." Taking up the passed over mug in hand, he lifts it to his lips for a sip. "Mm. That is good. You put in just the right amount of, well, everything." Another sip soon follows, but before he has an urge to drink it all, he sets the cup down and pushes it back to her.

"Damn straight there's nothing wrong with wine for breakfast." Then Magnolia is smiling with a wry touch for Byron. "Yeah. You were cute. You're looking pretty sorry these days." The ribbing just doesn't stop. But she listens to his woes soberly, and she gives his shoulder a little nudge. "Look, it's alright. We were never meant to be. Ships passing in the night." She's joking, right? Then she quirks a little grin to him. "Besides. Who says I would have saved you? I'm a pretty hard woman to love, Ron."

Then she picks up the coffee cup, this time with her physical hands, and she offers it to tap ceramic to ceramic with his. "I know. I'm pretty perfect." Which is exactly what someone with a healthy dose of self-confidence issues would say.

Feigning shock, Byron's lips part, looking as if he'd just taken offense to what was said. "And here I thought the way I made myself up. The hair, the facial hair, the clothes -- that was all part of me being a grown up." There's this brief pause where that look of shock passes and he's smiling again, "If I grew my hair out again and shaved, I'd just look almost exactly like that scruffy haired kid you all knew back in the day." He does have a bit of a baby-face.

There's that inquisitive look within his eyes again, reaching for his own coffee just as their waffles arrive. "Why do you say that?" He'll ask, hiding any concern in his voice and sounding mostly curious if anything. "I mean, you really grew up fast. But then again, you had to." The rim of the cup hovering near his lips, he says before taking yet another sip, "We both had to grow up quickly and did so in different ways. You were always the more responsible one anyway."

Setting the cup down, he physically slides his plate over in her direction in the case that she really wanted a taste of strawberry waffles with whipped cream. "So, are you able to say, get something out of the fridge doing what you do?" He's talking about her abilities. He knows about them, but he has a far different power set himself.

Magnolia dramatically rolls her eyes. "Please don't. That would just be embarrassing. The beard is fetching. Just keep it."

Another drink of coffee fills the moment, and then she shrugs her shoulders dismissively. "I did what I had to do," she agrees. "But then again, what else was I going to do?" Then food is being delivered, and Maggie snorts slightly. "Responsible. Jesus." It's all she says before she scoots in her waffles, but then eyeing his food and hers, she just ends up pushing her waffles toward him while hooking some whipped cream from his with her fork. Then she snorts slightly. "Yeah, mostly. I can do some head stuff, too. All of which have really helped me with my job." She then narrows her eyes at him. "What are you doing these days?"

Byron will make no complaints when told that his beard is fetching. He was planning on keeping it anyway!

However, he does take note when his inquiry of her being this 'hard woman to live with' is dismissed. He doesn't blame her, especially if the topic leads to some unpleasant memories. What he does, however, is go on to say as he reaches for the syrup to drizzle a bit on the bacon waffles that she'd pushed in front of him, just a small corner which he then proceeds to slice into with his fork. "Don't you go looking at me with those eyes. I made a promise. One bite." The fork lifts to his lips when he states before popping the syrup covered bacon waffle into his mouth, "Unlike some, I am confident in my self-control." He then quiets down to chew, but then speaks again with a half-full mouth, "And if I do slip... Mmm, these really are good." Chewchew, "Then I'll buy you another plate."

He's joking over course and though he doesn't give her her food back immediately, after a minute of consideration, he finally picks it up to set in front of her. "Also, I said you were responsible. I didn't say you were boring or dull as dishwater. Or that you were one of the Fun Police." Poking that same fork into the whipped cream now for a little taste he continues, "Your family wouldn't have survived the way they did if not for you and we've enough broken homes in town."

When the question is directed back to him, he grins, "Aside from managing the Bayside Apartments and trying to boost the town's economy with this festival? Not too much." Slowly he starts to slice into his own set of pancakes, before stating, "A few of us were pulled into a dream not long ago. We were children, maybe 11 years old at were at Tobin's place. His mother was still," He almost says alive, but corrects himself, "She was still around. I mean, she went missing at some point in the dream, but in the end, she returned. Got us out of our blanket fort which we were using to protect us against... " He shakes his head, "I don't know. Some random monster of the week that you tend to find in dreams."

"The Fun Police?" Magnolia cuts him a look. "Is that, that I police everyone's fun, or I am fun? Inquiring minds want to know." She doesn't seem to care much about bites or sharing equally or anything else, because she's kind of eating more of Byron's waffles than she is her own.

"Festival?" Look, Magnolia's had a lot on her plate. So, she looks confused. "What festival?" Then the mention of the dream has her frowning slightly, and she looks disquieted. "Yeah, um... I try to take sleep aids to avoid the dreams. I get pulled into them a lot." She takes another bite of waffle. The mention of the blanket fort has her grinning briefly, but it's not a longlived grin. Instead, she's frowning. "Huh."

"I'm just saying," Byron starts, taking a stab of part of what should have been his waffle before Magnolia eats it all, "That responsible does not equal not fun. So when I said that you were responsible..." He figures that she gets the point by now! Now, he's even mixing and matching waffles,

"Right, the town-wide, weekend-long festival that I'm organizing. It's one part town beautification, one part tourist lure. Either way, think Mardi Gras but, classier..." He then murmurs as if in doubt, "Or so I hope. People wearing masks, dressed in Venitian style costumes. A Masquerade." He goes on, almost as if he's giving Magnolia the same pitch he gives all the other business owners, "I've been speaking to other small businesses looking for sponsorship opportunities. I'll need everyone's help if we're to dress the town up in this mixture of fantasy world and a costumed ball."

About the dreams... "Do you have many dreams where you're a child? I mean, I've been through quite a few of them lately where people could've been killed, but that dream? Having the fear of a child again?" It definitely brought back some unpleasant memories.

"Oh. That. I didn't know you were doing that." Apparently Magnolia wasn't expecting Byron to be quite a mover and shaker. So, she props her chin on her knuckles, listening to him explain the festival. "Masks, huh? You know how us detective types like masks." Then she chuckles and shakes her head. "I mean, I guess SI could sponsor... but I can only like, maybe, give fifty bucks." Which also suggests that Magnolia has almost zero to invest in, like, a costume either.

Then she takes in a breath, thinking about that with a slow frown. "Um, well. A few... I mean, dude, all of that has always been pretty strong with me... like seriously strong. Dreams can be really dangerous, so I try to avoid them." Which isn't easy and has resulted in a lot of insomnia.

There's this flash of a grin that spreads across Byron's lips, "I've always had big plans. I got Mayor Addington's approval and the official signed permits from City Hall. It will be scheduled for either an early to mid-fall release. I'd like to avoid the rainy season, but I think the mist of autumn helps with the atmosphere." There's definite excitement when he talks about the project, "I don't need you to sponsor it, but I'll take ten if just to get your name on the list and draw more attention to your business."

Easing down on the eating, he takes another sip of coffee to clear his throat. "But yes, masks. I'm thinking of hitting up Lilith at the pawn shop and maybe Whitehouse's curiosity shop in search of masks. Maybe one of them will have a plague doctor mask or any variety of Venitian style masks."

Then there's this serious look that he gives Magnolia, nodding slowly to what she says. "I've had dreams before. Even as a child. Few and far between and then none at all once I left town to school in L.A. It all came rushing back once I returned." There's this lick of his lips, eyes looking thoughtful, "I'd love to learn techniques on how to avoid being sucked into a dream. Once, we were all on Tobin's boat tour when several of us were pulled in. The next time, it was a play at the theater. Both were dangerous dreams." He then adds, "The latter, maybe it was connected to the former, I'm not sure, showed us that there are people out there working with the shadow people, trying to recruit us. One of them tried to recruit Geoff. She was one of the actresses in that play."

"Alright. I'll give you ten." Beat. "Can you give me until Monday?" Then her nose wrinkles pleasantly before she offers a little shoulder shrug. "I just paid up my rent on my office. Private investigators are not flush." It's a simple explanation that doesn't actually ask for anything. Instead, she moves on.

Masks has her thinking, but she doesn't actually know what to even look for. So, all she does is make another little thoughtful noise. "Hmm."

Talk of dreams draws her focus back to Byron. "Um." Magnolia flashes a quick grin. "I'm not entirely sure that my techniques actually work or are more like... placebo effects. But I can hook you up with some sleep aids." Her arms fold in front of her now, food forgotten. She frowns. "Recruit?"

Byron's known Magnolia and her family for so long as it is. He doesn't question her when she asks for a week to give him ten dollars. There's no look of pity or one that reads 'I understand'. The look that he wears is neutral, for the most part, though he cracks a little smile, taking it all light-heartedly. "No problemo."

While he can talk festival coordination all day, there was no real need to drive home this idea that this Gray Harbor Festival was going to be fantastic for local businesses. So he doesn't talk Magnolia's head off about it. Instead, the next topic is something far more serious.

When she echoes his word, he simply nods. "It seems like the shadow people have recruited others, people like us, maybe with a promise of power beyond their imagination. Geoff said that he refused his dark visitor and that he was... cursed, or something along those lines. There was this sense of dread that followed them. From what I've learned, these shadow people and those who side with them relish in the misery and other negative emotions of others. They feed off of it."

Magnolia slips into a harder frown. She curls both hands around her coffee mug, and she tilts her head slightly to look at Byron. "Alright, so... the dark people are recruiting people like us for some kind of purpose, and in return we get great power?" She smirks. "Yeah, I've seen this movie before. Pretty sure none of this is going to pan out all that well."

She takes a sip of her coffee now, letting it give her a chance to think. "So. Sounds like we need to find out what they want... because pretty sure you don't give someone power without wanting something out of it."

There's this ponderous look in Byron's eyes, brows slightly lifted as he stares down at what's left on their pair of plates. "I think the shadow men want those chosen to sacrifice someone to them." His chin then lifts and he turns to look on Magnolia, "And I don't mean just the one time. Maybe for eternity. Make someone else suffer to empower yourself. Or something along those lines. In the end, it didn't do them any good. The theater troupe. I think.." there's a pause, "I think we killed all but one of them. No bodies of course. And no cops interrogated any of us. As far as I know."

"Huh." It's a familiar syllable-- something that Magnolia uses as a prompt. She's thinking. Then she slowly starts to nod. "Alright." Then she glances toward Byron. "Alright. Not a bad theory." Her frown tightens slightly. "So, if there's no bodies, do you kill them or just... send them back where they came from?"

"That I'm not sure about. Because when they pulled us into a dream, we were all seated to watch a performance. In the dream, we were in a castle courtyard, so when it switched back again." Byron's broad shoulders lift into a light shrug. "If there were corpses behind the curtain, it wasn't reported to the news. Which means, it wasn't reported to the police either? So if anything, they must have still been in the dream once the rest of us escaped."

The cup near his lips, he adds in before sipping, "Probably means more will be back. Though the town has so many other things on their hands right now. During that huge storm that cut the power all over town," A little over a week ago, " at least two groups of people were attacked by a mysterious someone, both groups being pulled into a dream. So that's something that we're dealing with."

Magnolia listens to the recount. Her head tilts slowly to the side, squinting thoughtfully off to the side. "Well, shit goes bad in a dream, goes bad for you outside of it. How do you think I actually broke my arm when we were fourteen?" She had fallen down the stairs, she had said. "So, maybe it works for them, too."

Then she feels a bit of a darkness settle into her expression, and she nods slowly. "Alright." Then she rubs slightly at her mouth. "Alright." The repetition is unconscious. Then she looks up to Byron. "You realize how fucked up this all sounds, right?"

When he's reminded of that time that she'd broken her arm, Byron nods. "Yeah, I remember..." It stirs up other memories as well, but not anything that he wishes to mention at the moment. Instead, he reaches into his pocket for his wallet and hands his card over to a passing waitress. "Let me get this." He's paying for whatever he'd ordered before bumping into Magnolia and the two of their orders afterward. He's even rising to stand now. "That girlfriend I mentioned earlier? The one who is opening up a practice here? She's a psychiatrist who is only now learning about everything that goes on here. She once told me, when she was first exposed to... all of this, " You know I love you and if you told me everything you just said to me today, that would be the only reason why I wouldn't have you committed." I'm paraphrasing of course, but you get the gist."

He steps forward to give Magnolia a warm departing hug, "It was nice seeing you again. We should do this more often. Breakfast. For now, I have some business to attend to." On a Sunday... With that, he heads over to cash register to retrieve his card, leave behind his signature and take his receipt.

When Byron offers to pay, Magnolia puts up a good front to resist, but then she gives in because it actually saves her some cash that she's already strapped for. Then she is frowning slightly at the whole girlfriend advice thing-- insight thing-- whatever. "Well, you can still be committed if you ask real nicely, I bet."

Then she steps into the hug, and her arms tighten around him briefly. "Nice seeing you too, hon. Tell the others I'm totally down for a reunion soon, too." Then she gives him a wave as he heads off, and she plops back down in the stool so she can actually get back to work, too.