2019-10-03 - Opposite Directions

It has been a pretty nice afternoon, so Clarissa set out for a refreshing walk in her expensive red coat that honestly looks more like a party dress than it does a jacket. Then the thunder boomed and she made her way hurriedly towards an awning nearby to the carousel before the skies opened up. She didn't quite make it, so now she's standing there, leaning one hand against a wooden post while prying some very wet patent leather heels off her feet.

Goddam, that was an okay weekend. Sure, much of it was spent cleaning out his mom's house, but he hit up the theater and saw that hot new movie everyone is talking about, you know the one, and then went to the mall and bought a bunch of truly awful new shirts along with a new pair of running shoes that look like they're inspired by some of America's tackiest clowns. Now that weekend is over as he heads to the police station for his shift manning a desk and reading arrest reports. Ducking his head to dodge the rain he dips into the awning for a moment, waiting to see if it'll abate a little before he has to run into the office. There's a brief smile when he sees Clarissa and he holds up a bag. "Arby's?"

Whatever Clarissa was about to say is stymied by the holding up of the Arby's bag like that's something someone should be proud of holding. She opens her mouth, closes it, glances out at the rain which is only getting harder, then gives a rather resigned look back to Andy, "I doubt anything in that bag is gluten free," she finally replies, shaking out her shoes and then moving to put one back on. From the way she grimaces shaking it out didn't help very much, "But thank you for the offer. Are you on your way to or from work?"

Andy opens the bag and pokes through it. "What's a gluten? Are there glutens in a superbeef sandwich? Or spiced curly fries?" Looking back up to her he gives a broad smile like he's one hundred percent on what glutens are and seeing the look of mounting horror on her face is its own kind of good time. "I think the milkshake was gluten free, but I already drank it." He nods toward the police station. "On my way in. You on your way to or from a cotillion, a regatta or your debutante ball? Did society accept you? Was your crinoline big enough?"

Clarissa sniffs and smooths down the skirt of her coat, flicking water everywhere, "Sadly there aren't many of those in Gray Harbor, but I'll take that to mean you think I look nice and thank you for the compliment." A hand goes up to her hair to make sure that it's still mostly in place. "I was just on my way to do a bit of shopping when the skies opened up. At least you don't have very far to go." She looks up at the sky again, "Was it supposed to rain today? This hard? I realize we're in an area of the country where it does nothing but rain for ages, but this seems a bit sudden."

"Honestly, it's what I most missed when I lived on the other coast. Portland was close, but you really need that Washington coast for some nice dreary days with the occasional shocker of a thunderstorm." Andy pulls out his superbeef and unwraps half of it. Boy, it sure does smell like Arby's! "If I were ridiculously wealthy with not a whole lot to do on a day like this I'd go to my room with the biggest windows and watch the storm roll in. It must be a sight. But I spent most of my weekend cleaning, and if I was wealthy I probably would have had someone do that for me, and then I would have spent more time playing Nintendo."

Clarissa jumps a bit when a particularly loud blast of thunder happens, wrapping her arms around herself and giving the whole area a skeptical look, "I do like watching the storms roll in off the bay," she admits, "I like it a bit less to be caught out in one. Especially without an umbrella and proper footwear." She makes a face at the smell of his food, "Your life sounds truly amazing," she starts to say, but rather than continuing with another cutting remark, something he said causes her to pause, "Cleaning your mother's place? Does that mean that she...?" She trails off, not finishing the thought.

"No, no. I don't mean her house here in Gray Harbor. We've, er, well, she's got a property on the res. It's barely been visited in a decade, so I figured I'd air it out and go through it to see if anything is worth keeping. Honestly, lots of stuff from my gran that is worth keeping, but more stuff that can be tossed. I keep hoping to find- well, you don't really care. Anyway," Andy sideeyes his superbeef. Goddam, that looks tasty, "the property isn't anywhere all that special, but it's close enough to the resort that I'm hoping they might be interested in buying it next time they go to expand."

"Real estate is rarely a venture that people lose money in," Clarissa offers, although she realizes how hollow it sounds. She clears her throat and tucks some hair behind her ear, "What were you hoping to find? Maybe I do care." Maybe he was looking for a vintage Hermes handbag! Probably not. She looks out at the rain, "When Pierce died I didn't go through this things for the longest time. His family and my family came up and it was all packed away into storage after they took what they wanted. I've really only gone through a box or two in all this time. Too many memories. Even the good ones just...aren't anymore. Sorry," she gives him a quick smile, "You probably don't care to hear about that."

"I was hoping to find some sign my father existed. Well, other than me." Feathers. Andy has found a lot of feathers. He's not really mentally or spiritually prepared to accept this as a sign of his father's passing. "Or maybe to find my father, if I'm being honest. Which, why not?" She gets a look, then he flushes slightly and looks toward his office. "And if I can't be honest with you... well. Did you see what his family took? Or did you just let them take things?"

Clarissa shrugs and bounces from one heeled foot to the other for a moment. It's not that cold, but it's a movement against showing how uncomfortable that question makes her, "I was pretty numb then. It was right after...there were a lot of inquiries which held things up," a bit of a glare is given to his workplace across the street. The worst! "But I did make a note of what they took. The accountants...it was just better for everyone that we knew what went where. They didn't take much, some things from his childhood mostly." For a moment it seems like she's going to ask about the feathers, but then she just makes a racist assumption that she realizes at the last second is totally racist and thus does not ask about them. "You don't know his name?" Wait, is that also a racist question? Her cheeks turn a bit pink and she keeps watching the rain instead of him, "You'd mentioned he used to get you on weekends or something?" Is that a save? She's going to count that as a save.

"Of course I know his name," snaps Andy, response as acid a tone as she's ever heard from him. "But knowing his name doesn't mean knowing who he was." Then, because he's annoyed with her, he goes ahead and has a big bite of his beefy sandwich, barbecue sauce drizzling down the back of his hand. "He didn't really get me at certain times, since he and my mother weren't married. Or if they were they never got divorced?" Andy shrugs. "He'd just sometimes blow through town and grab me and we'd go off on an adventure or two."

Clarissa has the audacity to look indignant when he reacts badly to the terrible thing she said, "Maybe that's something you should ask her about," she suggests, wrinkling her nose at the sight of that sauce on his hand. So gross. "She might still have a number for him or at least a way to reach him," she stops herself before she mentions child support payments. Those probably didn't happen either. Oh, god, she is racist! She purses her lips and squints at the rain, "When's the last time you talked with him?"

"Twelve? Thirteen years ago?" Andy shrugs, suddenly looking like he doesn't want to keep talking about this. So he looks toward the police station and grumbles, "I should go." A glance back to Clarissa and he moves forward like he might give her a kiss, then stops and turns to head off.

Clarissa looks a little alarmed when he does that, hastily looking away, "Sure. I have things I need to do too." She wraps her arms around herself once more before heading out into the rain in the opposite direction.