2019-11-18 - All About That Baste

The drive to Portland from Gray Harbor is a long corridor of freeway with trees covered with hills on either side. As they head south, Mt. Hood becomes visible, a bold, white triangle looming in the distance. It's a bit of a caravan of cars; there's a lot of them that have opted to come down here and speak to August's acquaintances in Portland.

And the further they get from Gray Harbor, the more they can feel the reach of their powers begin to extend. It's most notable to the powerful among them, who can now sense much further than they could after Billy's funeral as soon as they're fifty or so miles outside of Gray Harbor. It remains this way for a spell, and then, as they close on Portland, their Gifts extend, approaching their full range once more. When they pass through Old Town Chinatown, they feel it hit its peak, the way it was before the funeral.

Whatever's happening is localized to Gray Harbor. So, there's that.

Once everyone is situated in the B&Bs Hannah's babydaddy secured (they're split over two in large, neighboring houses in a quaint little neighborhood), they split up to check out the city, or take a nap, or relax. They'll meet with August's contacts in a couple of days, maybe check out the Veil after that. Today is for resting. And meeting your man's family.

"So, turns out everyone came into town," August says as they make their way to Hannah's house, which is in a cute little early 1900s remodel in Sellwood Village. He's in a snug, dark red, merino wool sweater, black denim jeans, and brown suede boots. Casual, but not tree-work casual. And he sounds vaguely apologetic about lobbing his whole family at Eleanor in one go. "Zelda and her husband and two girls, Hannah and her girl and her girl's dad." They cross the Williamette River at the Sellwood Bridge. He pauses, realizing how this sounds, to constantly not refer to Xavier as Hannah's husband. "Hannah and Xavier have an open relationship but mom and dad aren't exactly...into it," he says, giving her a sideways glance. "I don't expect it to turn into a thing, especially not over dinner. But, just so you know.

The closer they got to Portland, the more notes Eleanor took in her little notebook, about feeling the reach of her own much weaker Glimmer begin to extend once more. That the shut down is isolated to Gray Harbor is absolutely fascinating, and something the researcher intends to inform the Paranormal Society about upon their return.

She fussed forever about packing something to wear for dinner, and after he told her what he was going to be in, she settled on a cute dress of textured fabrics in shades of brown, beige, and gold. Very autumnal, modest, and it doesn't make her look too young. There's always that concern about their age difference, though it's a bit less concerning once both folks are over 35. Cute strappy heels go with it, and her hair is down and styled smooth at the crown, to slight waves at the ends. Her makeup is tasteful.

She, however, is a hot mess of nerves. "EVERYONE!?" she whisper-hisses to him, hanging onto his hand for dear life as they approach the house. "Are they going to be freaked out about anything about us?" she asks.

August squeezes Eleanor's hand as they head up the steps to the cobalt blue house. "No," he assures her. "For one thing, none of them know about the Gift. So, no need to worry about talking about it. They just think I was an eccentric kid." His smile grows. "So being with an eccentric woman like you is perfectly reasonable."

Then he rings the doorbell. A voice from inside, a young woman's, shouts, "I'LL GET IT!!!!" and they hear footsteps over a wooden floor just before the door opens.

She's a tall girl, almost as tall as August, lanky and wiry, with tawny skin, auburn hair in lovely twin, French braid, and freckles. She's wearing a boho, patchwork skirt and snug, black wool sweater, and her face brightens and she launches at August for a hug with a squeal. "Oh my God Uncle Gus!"

August catches her, apparently expecting this. "Hey sweetheart, how've you been."

Uncle Gus? That seems to tickle Eleanor to no end but as expected, she goes into super shy mode at all the familial enthusiasm. She takes a step to the side so the pair can get their hug on proper, and just holds her handbag in front of her with a fixed smile and slightly too-wide eyes full of nerves. She has never met a boy's parents. She is also not 16 and should stop thinking of it that way.

"School sucks," the girl announces. She's 15, maybe 16 at most. August releases her on a sigh. "Well, high school always sucks. Don't worry, you'll be done in a couple of years and then you can get on to something better." The girl makes an annoyed sound about 'a couple of years' standing between her and freedom from tyranny, turns to Eleanor and grins at her, black brown eyes bright with enthusiasm. She sticks out her hand. "Hi. I'm Eliza. I have been dying to meet you. I'm Gus' oldest niece. Hannah's daughter." She's got an athlete's hands, calloused and strong and broad.

Eleanor shakes the girl's hand with enthusiasm and a broad smile. Her green eyes crinkle at the corners. "Hi, I'm Ellie. Eleanor. Either is fine. August talks about you all the time. He's a very proud uncle."

Eliza's grip is firm and friendly, but she groans to hear Eleanor say that. "Does he say embarrassing things??" she demands, clearly concerned.

"Just true things," August swears, one hand up.

A woman's voice calls from further in the house, "Eliza why are you keeping them on the porch and letting out all the warm air?"

Eliza makes a face, gestures for them to come in. "Sorry mom!!" she shouts back. She is, it would seem, pretty loud.

The first room in the house is a great room, with gleaming wood floors and two full, soft sitting chairs in neutral colors, a matching loveseat, and a matching couch. An ornate rug servers as a focal point for the furniture, a gray and gold tabby sprawled on it. She rolls when she sees them, showing her belly.

"That's Mel," Eliza says, in a more normal tone of voice. "Rescued her in February. That's a lie, she'll just chew on you of you pet her stomach. We're still teaching her not to."

There's bustling sounds in the kitchen, and giggles and an argument further down one of the halls. A man roughly August's height, with dark brown skin, close shorn hair and a neat beard, comes out of a side office. "Eliza we're not on the ballfield you can use your inside voice," he says, gently. He's dressed similarly to August, in that look which Itzhak refers to as 'Casual Urban PNW Man'.

"Sorry dad," Eliza says, sighing.

August steps up to hug the man, which the man accepts with a smile.

"Hey Xavier, good to see you."

Loud Eleanor can do. Just wait until August meets her dad. Former fireman, now retired in Florida. Very loud, brash, and down to earth. She's dreading it already. But she's also kind of excited for it. Her eyes sweep over the interior of the home, loving the cozy of it all. It's not all that different from her own place, though likely much larger.

The cat gets an affectionate smile but the warning is heeded. "I've gotten used to August's goats and such. The geese are still pretty cranky when I show up though," she confesses to Eliza with a grin. When Xavier comes in she notes the similar dress. She's used to it by now, having lived in the PNW most of her life.

Hugs exchanged, August gestures at Eleanor, and Xavier steps up to shake hands with her. "You, must be Eleanor." He seems on the verge of saying something like Eliza did, but maybe chooses to spare Eleanor another variation of 'Gus has told us so much about you' and instead goes for, "I'm really glad you could join us for dinner. Shouldn't be too long now, Hannah and Zelda just pulled the hens out." He gives August a sideways glance, "Which means..."

As if on cue, a woman says, "Gus! Come in here, introduce us to this lovely woman, then help us finish." Her tone is strident. She's used to ordering him around.

Eleanor shakes Xavier's hand and she is already blushing. "Hope he's just told you the good things," she says with a nervous chuckle. The shouts from afar have her chewing her lower lip just a little bit as she tries to bolster herself with an internal mantra of You are a grown ass woman. Your man is the best. Nothing to fear here.

She follows wherever August leads, sticking close to him like he's a human shield to protect her from making a fool of herself.

Xavier's smile for Eleanor apologetic and understanding, as someone else who went through this in the past.

August sighs heavily. "Okay, okay, Zel, we're coming." He nods for Eleanor to join him, still smiling. It's an open kitchen, which helps for preparing a meal like this one, and two women are puttering around, with a significantly older one sitting in the breakfast nook at the table with a glass of wine.

The older woman can only be August's mother; her hair is fully dark silver, gently curly, framing a long, square face similar to her son's, and golden brown eyes. Of the two women cooking, one is almost as tall as August; Hannah, Eliza's mother, if the resemblance is any indication. She shares that same face with her mother and brother, but her hair is still fully black and curls more tightly than his, and like her daughter she's lanky and wiry, all hard edges. The shorter woman must then be Zelda. She has looser curls, short and dark brown like August's. Her face is rounder and her nose prouder; perhaps an echo of their father, but her eyes are that same hazel green as her brother. Both women turn and smile to see Eleanor and August; Hannah is in a simple, jersey knit dress in black with lace insets, empire waisted and floor length, while Zelda is in dark purple trousers and a white, lacey top. They're wearing aprons to protect their clothes from the cooking process, and have just washed their hands.

"Finally," Zelda says, and grabs August in a hug. He grunts and returns it. "Hey Zel," he murmurs.

Hannah, meanwhile, dries off her hands on a dishtowel and extends one to Eleanor. "Eleanor," she says, her voice rich and deep like her brother's. "It's so good to meet you. I'm Hannah, Eliza's mother." A look askance at August and Zelda, and she adds, "Middle child," with a sly smile.

Eleanor shakes Hannah's hand, covering it with both of hers. "Hi, Hannah. It's so nice to finally meet you. You can call me Ellie if you like, most people do," she notes, with a broad smile. "Your house is absolutely gorgeous! I love Dutch Colonials. I have a 1915 Craftsman Bungalow myself." Houses she can talk. She worked hard to remodel her parent's old house and make it her own. She gives everyone present her best smile, pushing her hair back behind her ear with the one not being used for shaking.

Hannah's expression sharpens with laser intensity. "Oh, a Craftsman--I tried to get Gus to describe it to me but he doesn't know houses, do you have pictures?"

Zelda groans as August lets her go. "Now you've done it," she says, even as Hannah asks that. Hannah rolls her eyes at Zelda. In an aside to Eleanor, Zelda explains, "That's what she does, you know--interior remodels and architecture." Now she points at Hannah. "I forbid you to drag her back into your office and talk shop all night, Hanne."

August is trying to smother a laugh at this arguing. He gives Eleanor an apologetic smile. "Fine fine," Hannah says on a sigh, but she winks at Eleanor to telegraph, 'later, after dessert, when they're preoccupied'. Then she steps aside to trade with Zelda, so Zelda can introduce herself and Hannah can hug her brother.

"It's great to meet you Eleanor," Zelda says, grinning. She's got work-hardened hands like her brother and niece. "I'm Zelda, the baby. I'm a Nurse Practitioner. My girls are in the back playing on the Switch but we'll drag them out in a bit here."

August's mother has allowed the four of them their greetings, and now she gets up to join them. She's in a dark turquoise cardigan over a white lace, button down shirt, and black slacks.

Eleanor relaxes a whole two fractions at Hannah's interest in the Craftsman. "Oh yes, I do! It was my parents' place, and when they retired and moved to Florida I bought it from them and redid it." She pulls her phone out of her purse and flips through it to bring up a folder of post-renovation photos of her charming little Bungalow, from the sweet porch swing, to the boho chic decor of the interior.

She gives a chuckle as Zelda explains. "Just a few photos! I promise!" she swears with the girlscout code hand signal. She hands off the phone to Hannah to peruse the photos at her leisure and shakes Zelda's hand. "So nice to meet you too. It's nice to put faces and voices to August's family stories."

As August's mother approaches, those two fractions she relaxed go into reverse and bring friends along to ratchet up her tension. She gives the woman a nervous smile.

"Oh, look at this, Eleanor this is wonderful," Hannah murmurs, going through the pictures with hungry eyes, gathering up ideas. "Gus I can't believe I couldn't get you to take photos."

August rolls his eyes at the chiding. "Sorry. I'll send more in the future."

"Yes, you will." Hannah beams at Eleanor, clearly intending to kidnap her in the back for more shop talk. Zelda sighs, hands on her hips, and looks Disapproving.

But now, there's mom. The family height clearly comes from her; she's maybe an inch under Hannah's height, which could easily be from aging. It's not hard to imagine her at near to six feet in her prime. August pulls her into a tight embrace, which she returns. "Almost as gray as me," she teases, and he sighs dramatically. His sisters have no white or gray anywhere. Possibly a gift from dad that August didn't get.

Releasing his mom and turning to Eleanor, August says, "Mom, this is Eleanor. Eleanor, this is my mother, Ilana."

"It's so good to meet you, Eleanor," Ilana says, offering her hand and smiling, warm and gentle. The hand is knotted and calloused; she did a lot of hard work before finally retiring. A nurse, like Zelda, August has said, but not a practitioner; she spent nearly fifty years in three different hospitals. She's wiry and spare, and her voice is husky and low. So perhaps August's recovery from Bosnia isn't that much of a surprise.

"Ilana, it's absolutely wonderful to meet you. You have a beautiful family and your son is a fantastic human being. I wake up every day grateful to know him," Eleanor enthuses. Before realizing she's probably over-enthusing as she shakes the woman's hand. She will never be one of those girls good at being cool and aloof meeting new people.

August quietly thanks the powers that be for not making him a blusher.

Ilana smiles at the effusiveness, charmed by it, rests her other hand on top of Eleanor's. "The pleasure's mine. Before we inflict anyone else on you," she gestures at the little table in the step-up nook, "join me for a drink and some snacks, if you want. We can watch them cook."

Zelda thrusts an apron out at August, who dutifully puts it on. He leans in to kiss Eleanor on the cheek and give her a smile of 'you're doing fine', then lets himself be ordered to making gravy from the pan drippings. There's apple and pumpkin pie cooling on racks. On the table where Ilana was sitting there's a selection of chopped veggies and dips (hummus, ranch, french onion), pita chips, little puff pastries of cream cheese and carmelized onion, and cocktail shrimp.

Hannah moves to the frige. "What can I get you two to drink? We've got wine, beer, root beer, soda, water..."

Eleanor is a blusher and there is a smattering of crimson across her nose and cheeks already, deepened when August gives her that cheek kiss and smile. She nods to Ilana. "That sounds lovely." She joins the older woman at the table, casting a glance back at August with a bright smile.

"Root beer would be great," Eleanor replies. She does have a definite love of the stuff. She looks over the spread on the table with wide eyes. "This all looks delicious."

"Water's fine," August says, getting to scraping the pan's contents into a pot. He glances over his shoulder at Hannah, who's pulling out a Crater Lake root beer for Eleanor. August's water comes from a filter pitcher. "Where's dad?"

"Your father and Joaquim are talking shop." Hannah nods at Zelda. "Which is why Zelda doesn't want me dragging Eleanor off to the den. I'll go fetch them in a bit. They'll just get in the way."

Zelda makes a face in between swipes of her bread knife over a fragrant, sourdough load. She explains to Eleanor, "Joaquim, my husband? Works for the Port of San Francisco, and Ben was a dock worker for forty years, so," she shrugs. "They run off and have their bitchfest about things, we never see them again. That's just how it is."

"You don't want them in here at the table doing that," August points out. Zelda gives him a Look. "I'm just speaking the truth here." Zelda sighs explosively at him.

Hannah hands August his water, then brings the root beer and a pint glass with ice to Eleanor. Ilana leans back and niggles on a spear of carrot. "So, Eleanor, you run a coffee shop, right?"

Eleanor thanks Zelda quietly for the root beer and pours it into the glass. She tries out one of the pita chips and hummus and nods to Ilana. "Yes. I own it. Growing up I always dreamed of going to Paris and visiting all the cafes there, and when I finished high school I decided I'd bring Paris to me. I got an Associates in Business, took out a loan from the bank, and built Espresso Yourself in a little strip mall downtown."

She sips her root beer and smiles. "Took a little of Cafe Mericourt, a bit of the O Coffee Shop and a bit of Pacific Northwest coffee know how and voila. I was in business." She watches the siblings cook with an expression of contentment. Knowing August has this solid foundation to build on is nice.

"Oh, wonderful. Well now we'll need to drive through the next time we're going to Olympic, stop and have some." Ilana grins, sips from her wine, some sort of red. "I know it's the Pacific Northwest so we have coffee to spare but, good coffee and a fine setting, that's another thing entirely." She raises her eyebrows. "So your parents are in Florida, you said? Are they liking it down there?" She gets a wistful look. "I dream about moving some place warmer, but I don't want to be separated from everyone by a six hour plane flight."

"Don't put in too much marjoram," Zelda says, eyeing August's work with the gravy critically. He gives her a tired look.

"Want to trade? I'll get the table arranged and you can make gravy?"

Strident, Hannah says, "Do not let her make the gravy."

Zelda huffs. "When are you going to get over that? It was one time."

"It was more like three or four times, Zel," August says. She points the handle of her bread knife at him.

"Don't you start with me, Gus. Not after that cheesecake fiasco."

August whisks, sniffs and raises his chin. "That wasn't my fault, the oven was on the fritz."

"So you say."

A timer goes off, which interrupts this lively debate of dinner failures of the past. Hannah pulls a bulging casserole dish of stuffing out, sets it aside to cool. Hannah arranges the gread slices--no dinner rolls here--in a long, woven basket with a tea towel. Another timer, this for the steamed veggies.

"Gus, cheese sauce."

"Got it."

The three of them move about, mostly sycnhronized, with the ocasionally complaint about how one another is doing something, which is always rebuffed in one way or another. (Though at one point Hannah makes a suggestion which August excepts, much to Zelda's consternation.)

Eleanor seems to relax a lot more now that the conversation hasn't proven to be difficult. She nibbles at food here and there, mindful not to ruin her appetite for dinner. "They love it. Dad has a lot of old aches and pains from working as a firefighter his whole life, so the warmer weather really helps with that. My brother followed in his footsteps and is a GHFD fireman as well. Mom is still doing commissions here and there. She's a seamstress. She says it's much nicer doing them with the perpetual sunshine."

She watches the siblings threaten tales of cooking disasters and her gaze turns wistful. "I miss them being nearby but they come visit several times a year so it's not too bad."

"Mmmm, I bet he does," Ilana says with a wince. She gives August a sidelong glance, but makes no comment, instead rubs her hands. "My arthritis gets a little worse every year. We're managing it, but," she shrugs helpelessly. How much longer can it be managed? that gesture asks. "And Ben, he was a dockworker, so like your father his body's been ill-used." She sighs. "The hot tubs at the community help, though."

"I keep telling Gus to get one," Zelda says. August makes a low sound.

"No. Maintenance on a hot tub is insane. Maybe the fancy apartment complex in town sells access to theirs, though."

"It'd be good for you in the winter," Ilana says, not-so-casually, around a drink of her wine.

"Mmmmmhmmmmmm," is all August has to say to that.

Ilana turns to Eleanor once more. "Speaking of which, I might have a commission to send your mother's way, if she doesn't mind ones which aren't local. On of our neighbors just became a great grandmother, and she'd like something special made for the baby." She arches an eyebrow. "Sound like something she'd be interested in?"

Eleanor chuckles. "I might get a hot tub at my place and just hire someone to do the maintenance on it. Best of both worlds that way." She looks back to Ilana and her eyes light up. "That is the exact sort of thing she would love to do. She's still grousing at my brother and I for not making her a grandmother yet," she chuckles, then blushes hotly.

"Ah, the expectations we place on our children," Ilana says, gently. "You should only have children if you want them." There's a note of 'especially in these times' in her voice, a careful reassurance that she knows, from personal experience, it's a hard road to walk, no matter how fluffy and beautiful a facade society wants to plaster over it. "Your parents can survive not being grandparents."

August takes a huge drink of water, wishes he'd asked for a beer. He is very carefully not listening to this conversation. Nope. He's making cheese sauce for the steamed vegetables. See? That's what he's doing. Hannah and Zelda throw him teasing looks. He glares back. They suppress their giggles. Barely.

Just like that, Ilana sets that thorny issue aside with a soft smile. "I'll put you in contact with Joy, so you can pass your mother's information along. I have to warn you, if it works out, your mother may be up to her eyes in work; this community is packed with budding grandparents and great grandparents, and children being married," she waves a hand, "and so on."

Hannah sobers, calls over her shoulder, "Eliza? Go get everyone please."

"OKAY MOM!" Eliza marches down the halls to begin rounding everyone up. "DINNER!!" She sure has a set of lungs on her.

"Oh, I definitely want kids. At least 'a' kid. Some day. Uh, you know, if life goes in that direction," Eleanor stammers, nearly dropping a shrimp. "I uh, haven't really had that conversation yet," she stage whispers to Ilana, eyes wide.

Ilana smiles warmly, gives Eleanor a wink. "Time enough for that," she murmurs, voice low. She sips a bit more wine. "Alright, you three, what can Eleanor and I carry in," she says, easing out of the nook.

August casts a furtive glance at Eleanor, maybe to make sure this conversation hasn't set the enitre evening on fire. Well she's not running for the door, so it can't be that bad, right?

Hannah hands the basket of bread to her mom. Zelda gestures at the broad, oval casserole dish with two hotpads bracing the sides. "Eleanor if you could get the stuffing, there's a long trivet for it to sit on at the table."

Eliza reappears in the kitchen door. "I got them!" she says, and Hannah promptly hands her a large dish of fresh cranberry sauce, and August gives her the grazy boat. Eliza ferries them off to the table.

In come two younger girls, early teens at best, and though they could be twins by their looks, one is at least a couple years older than the other. They have black, wavy hair, full and thick, cut short no doubt to manage it, framing heart-shaped faces with pale skin and pale gray eyes. "Girls," Zelda says, and turns them towards Eleanor, "This is Eleanor."

The older one seems shy, but she smiles and waves, ducking her head. The younger one is more like Eliza, and offers her hand. "I'm Gabrielle," she says.

"I'm Rachel," murmurs the other one. Gabrielle is in a cute little black, velvet, A-line skirt with flower embroidery and a white top, while Rachel is in jeans with rolled cuffs and a cableknit sweatshirt in dark green.

"Got it," Eleanor declares, bailing out on the babies talk to happily carry the stuffing from the kitchen to the dining table and set it where indicated. When the little girls come in she shakes Gabrielle's hand and returns Rachel's smile and wave. "Nice to meet you both. Your uncle talks about you all the time."

Rachel blushes; Gabrielle grins. "He talks about you all the time," Gabrielle announces. Rachel blushes harder, casts Eleanor a panicked look.

"Gabby," she whispers, harsh. Gabrielle ignores her, but before she can launch into any sort of explanation, Zelda hands her a soda and a glass of ice. "To the table, young lady," Zelda says. Gabrielle sighs and goes to sit. Rachel relaxes, gives Eleanor an apologetic wince. She's clearly just old enough to get what this means, while Gabrielle isn't quite there.

"Rachel," August says, appearing with a glass with ice and a soda for her as well. She grins at him and moves to hug him.

"Hi Uncle Gus," she murmurs, accepting the drink. August kisses the top of her head. "Go ahead and get seated."

Apron officially off, August slips an arm around Eleanor's waist. "Okay so far?" he asks.

And now Eleanor is also blushing, because apparently August talks about her all the time to his little nieces. Oh my. She giggles with the kids then straightens as August returns. She kisses his cheek. "More than ok. So, you talk about me all the time, hm?" she teases with a sweet smile.

August hems and haws over how to answer that. "All the time in their view, it's kind of limited," he says, smiling, but leans in to give her kiss to the forehead. "Yeah it's all the time," he murmurs against her ear, straightens.

Before he can say anything else, Xavier and two other men come down the hall, chatting. The oldest among them is a little under August's height, with black hair sporting a touch of gray and white, a round face, olive toned skin, and green eyes. He's got a husky build and a deep, rough voice. The younger of the two Eleanor doesn't know is pale, with black brown eyes and thick, wavey black hair, closer to her own height with an average build.

"Ah, here you two are," Ben says, and August moves to hug his dad while Joaquim introduces himself. He offers his hand and smiles. "It's very nice to meet you Eleanor, I'm Joachim," he says. He's almost immediately patted on the shoulder by Ben, and relinquishes her hand with a laugh, moving aside to hug August.

Ben offers his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Eleanor." It's knotty with arthritis and decades of hard work, not unlike his wife's.

Eleanor chuckles and kisses his cheek again, with the warmest of smiles. She looks truly touched that he's told his family about her at length. "A pleasure to meet you, Joachim."

Then Ben's hand is in hers, and she covers it with the other one in a gentle shake like she would give her own father. "The pleasure is mine, Ben. Thank you for the invitation to join you all for dinner. I've heard so much about your family, I've been excited to meet you."

August keeps casting furtive glances at Eleanor and his dad even as he talks to Joachim. Maybe this was the more nerve-wracking introduction for him. "You're welcome, dear. I only hope AJ hasn't told you too many tall tales." A small grin and a teasing glance for August, who rolls his eyes. Ben murmurs to Eleanor, "He hates being called that," winks, and gestures at the table. "I'll escort you to the table, if you like."

It's a huge spread, but then, there's a lot of them. Seating isn't particularly family-based, as the nieces argue about who gets to sit next to Eleanor and August, which is eventually solved by spacing them out so it's Gabby, Eleanor, Eliza, August, then Rachel. This puts the various parents opposite the table from their daughters, but if there's one thing August does seem to know how to do, it's manage his nieces at dinner.

It's quite the spread: Cornish game hens for all; twice good potatoes with paprika, cheddar, and bacon; steamed veggies (broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, sugar snap peas) with cheese sauce; home made cranberry sauce; stuffing; candied purple and orange yams covered in apples and pecans; homemade sourdough bread. The pies--apple, pumpkin, and a cheesecake--sit on a sideboard table, ready for dessert. This isn't a family which does a prayer before eating. There's no announcement either, aside from Hannah saying, "Eat! I didn't spend all day on this to let it sit here," at which point everyone digs in.

One thing that becomes readily apparent as conversation ensues is that August and Hannah are vastly more liberal than their parents. Zelda's harder to suss out; she mostly works to steer the conversation to stop any arguments. (Joachim and Xavier follow Hannah and Zelda's leads here.) But with the girls at the table things adhere mundane topics: August's new book ("Back from the editor, so now comes the fun part"), Rachel's next recital (she's a cellist, it turns out, and quite good if one can trust August and her mother's opinion), Hannah's current project (a series of remodels of older, 1800s-era homes for historial purposes), Eliza's sports (baseball and basketball), and so on.

Eleanor is not a shy eater and she delves into a little of everything with gusto and compliments to the chef. She steers clear of the controversial subjects but happily chats about sports with Eliza as she was also a school athlete, praises the cello dedication, and is all over the house remodel talk.

There are plenty of glances at August during all this, just getting to see him in his home environment and soaking in that feeling of family.

August likewise eats heartily. Was he maybe worried about his family meeting Eleanor being overwhelming? Probably. But now that the initial meet and greet is over and they're all stuffing their faces, he's relaxed some. He meets more than a few of Eleanor's sideways glances, since they can't really hold hands under the table at the moment. Eleanor is peppered with questions about her coffee shop. Xavier and Joachim might be scheming to get any coworkers or clients driving through to stop there.

Once the main meal is done, August joins Xavier and Joachim in the kitchen to help clean and clear. Dessert will be out in the living room, but for now, everyone gets to settle and chat. Which means Hannah is absconding with Eleanor to her office, in the den at the back of the house. August gives Eleanor a kiss on the cheek before she's dragged away.

"I largely work here, at home, though sometimes a longer-term project will give me an office space," Hannah says as she leads Eleanor down the hallway. She's fetched them each a root beer. Art of various sorts lines the hall; watercolor paintings, papercut work, prints. There's a few family photos, including one in which August can't be more than 30, holding baby Eliza. He weighs a little more and his hair is black brown, much like Hannah's is now.

The den is a cozy little affair, covered with shelves of books. One side is devoted to a drafting table, the other to a desk with a laptop and tablet. "If you like looking at remodels, we're doing a lovely trio of historial landmarks that the city wanted to be put back to period design but with modern materials. Mostly to prove people don't need to gut the pre-1920s houses."

Eleanor is led down the hall and she gazes at all the family photos with a smile. The younger August ones make her heart flutter just a bit. Looking into happy parts of his past is nice.

When they get to the home offices she looks excited. "Oh I'd love to see that. Are any Victorians? I absolutely adore a well done Victorian with the proper gingerbread details," she enthuses. Yeah she watches a lot of HGTV.

Hannah sighs. "No, unfortunately--well, one is late Victorian Queen Anne, and has some of those details." She fetches her tablet and starts pulling up the images. The three houses are quite different; one is Italianate, a stately gray and white residence; a Queen Anne style set of apartments in gold and two shades of green with ornate decorations at the peaks; and late Victorian-Queen Anne house in gray and white with red accents. "The apartments have been the most work," Hannah says. "Since they want to rent then out once they're done, but it can hard getting renters to agree to keep the place to style. Understandably, it's your home, you should be able to make it how you want." The Italianate house is clearly in the nicest neighborhood of the three, with clean and neat landscaping. The apartment building, in contrast, appears to be on a standard busy street.

The interior photos are more numerous, and show detailed before and after images. And oh, the state these three were in was deplorable. (Especially the apartments.)

"You're a miracle worker. That Italianate is like a movie set!" Eleanor exclaims as she excitedly peruses the photos. "Is the Queen Anne two or four apartments?" She asks curiously. "The almost ombre effect of the paint colors on the exterior is lovely."

The Late Victorian makes her smile fondly. "There is a quite fancy Queen Anne in Gray Harbor. It's the Addington House, a museum now," she explains, bringing up a photo of it.

"You're too kind, but I really have to hand it to the contractors who did the work. Four units in that one. They have two rented out at the moment." Hannah leans to look at Addington House. "Oh, lovely would you look at that. Addington, that's the lumber family, right?" A soft sigh. "Can't say I'm surprised they had a manse like that, with their money. Much like the Union Pacific mogul in Seattle, the one who's redoing that Victorian on Queen Anne to the original interior. A museum though--perfect use, just like Hearst Castle. Speaking of which," she arches an eyebrow, "if August ever takes you down the coast, that's a fun little tour, and totally mindblowing."

Speaking of which... Hannah settles on the edge of her desk. "I have another motive for dragging you in here, I have to admit. It's a little personal, so I hope you don't mind me saying it." She pauses there, to give Eleanor an out.

"Oh I'll definitely ask him to take me there sometime. I really love looking at places like that. Family went to Galveston on vacation once and we visited the Bishop's palace. It was just incredible. It's also called Gresham's castle. It's worth a visit for the stained glass alone!" she enthuses. And then the subject changes and she looks a little worried, but stays.

"Go ahead. I don't mind," she murmurs, wringing her hands a bit in her lap.

Hannah holds up a hand, not presuming to take Eleanor's, but to reassure. "It's alright, it's nothing bad." She has a sip of her root beer. "I'm the, ah," her mouth twitches in a wry smile, "odd one here, if you hadn't noticed. A career woman with no marriage, a sixteen year old, and a fine man living under my roof who has other men and women of his own." She says like that like she expects August has shared this particular tidbit already. "And the only one odder than me has always been August. Even when we were children. You heard dad talking about tall tales--August's imagination was positively wild. And now, well, maybe it's understandable, since Bosnia." She glances away, looking out over her den. "He can't bear to be in a city for long, which makes any sort of relationship a challenge. I didn't expect his plans in Gray Harbor to pan out, but they seem to be. And I think you're probably at least some part of that." She looks at Eleanor again. "So I wanted to say, you've been good for him, and we can all tell. And we're very thankful for that. I know it can't be easy--nothing has been, since he came back from that awful place."

"He and I are a lot alike in that respect," Eleanor confesses to Hannah. "I had a terrible experience in the forest as a child, and he's been helping me get over that by staying with him a few days a week. And he is working on his in town issues by staying with me a few days a week. The fact we both understand each other's issues goes a long way in this relationship. He has been very good for me. And I am very grateful he's in my life."

She smiles warmly and relaxes a bit. "I hope he wants me in it going forward too. I haven't exactly told him yet, because I'm afraid to scare him off, but I am in love with your brother, Hannah. Deeply so." She blushes.

Hannah gives Eleanor a momentary Look, that shared concern all women have when one says they 'had something horrible' happen. And while what she's thinking is entirely unlike what happened, maybe the long term effect isn't all that different, in the end--the lack of belief, watching a friend die from the trauma, trying to understand it herself, spending decades unable to go to a place simply because of what had happened to her.

"I'm so sorry to hear that--that you went through something like that," she says, carefully. She manages to smile, though. "I'm not sorry you found one another, though. If you can be each other's guide through that sort of thing, well, that's how it's supposed to work, right?"

She smiles, eyes a little bright, when Eleanor admits that. "I don't think it'll scare him off," she says. "If it did, well, I'd be pretty angry at him, for my part." A small, sly smile, which gentles after a second. "But this also isn't me saying you should rush to tell him. Tell him in your own time. If what you two have is good, it's worth waiting, until you're comfortable. There's not a hurry."

"Thank you, Hannah. I was so nervous coming here, but everyone has been so welcoming and loving. I really appreciate the kindness." She squeezes the other woman's hands and her eyes are a bit shiny as well. This has been a relief. The hardest thing in an adult relationship is the family interactions, and this has been like a dream for Ellie.

Hannah returns the squeeze. "It can be nerve wracking, can't it? I almost told him not to tell Zelda you were both coming, to spare you the extra introductions, but she'd have been furious with me." An apologetic half-smile for putting her own emotional comfort in front of Eleanor's. "But I figured, if it was an issue, Gus would have suggested a smaller, simpler thing."

"Dessert," comes the sing-song call down the hallway, to the tune of Ben's voice. He knocks on the door before pushing it the rest of the way open. "Hannah, I'm informed you must now release Eleanor from your dungeon so she can pick a dessert and join us in the living room."

"Dad I didn't call it a dungeon," Zelda's voice floats from further out. Ben laughs, soft and quiet. "She was thinking it, though," he murmurs.

Eleanor chuckles merrily and she gets up to follow Ben back to the living area for dessert. "I have to go for the pumpkin pie. Some traditions are worth upholding," she notes with a grin. "Though I wish I didn't have to do that whole pumpkin spice latte thing at the shop. I think if I stopped selling them though, the college kids would burn the place down."

Hannah sighs, says, "Capitalism, what can you do," and Ben chuckles. They emerge from the hall to find Joachim and Xavier cutting slides, scooping ice cream and whipped cream as apppropriate, and setting the plates on the table.

August has grabbed a piece of cheesecake, and is sitting on the couch with Rachel, who's showing him videos on a tablet. Videos of...minecraft. "I like having a whole herd," she's saying.

"A herd of manticores sounds hard to manage," August replies around a bite of cheesecake. "What do they eat?"

"Fish. So I fish a lot."

"So do I. I should take you."

Rachel brightens. "Yes!" she says. "I wanna learn how to fish. Really fish."

August glances up, smiles as he sees Eleanor on the approach. He nods at the spot next to him on the couch; Eliza and Gabby are playing on the Switch on the floor rug, while Mel the Gray and Gold tabby watches. They're taking turns playing and encouraging one another.

Eleanor settles beside August with her pie of choice and smiles at the minecraft video. "I haven't been fishing since I was your age I think. My dad and I used to go all the time. I loved it. Except the putting worms on hooks part. I kinda felt bad for the worms. So my dad would do that part for me."

As Eleanor comes to sit, August leans against her and gives her a smile.

"Really? We should all go." He says it without thinking, blinks when he realizes what that couple imply for Eleanor. He adds, "The Chehalis has some great spots, out on the surge plain." I.e. not the forest. "And there's lake fishing we can do too." He wrinkles his nose about the worms. "I mostly use eggs. Works better for trout than worms in my experience. Keeps better, cheaper."

"Eggs?" Rachel asks, sounding confused.

August clarifies, "Fish eggs." Rachel frowns, and August gets out his phone, swipes a bit. He shows her the little salmon eggs used--orange and red, bright like colorful balls. "Real easy to get on the lure," he explains.

Eleanor grins and murmurs to Rachel, "Also tasty in sushi rolls. They call it Tobiko for flying fish eggs and Masago for capelin eggs, and Ikora for salmon eggs like those." She is a fountain of useless trivia, this one. "That sounds much less stresssful than worms. I approve."

Rachel makes a face. "I couldn't do worms either," she assures Eleanor. Now that they've eaten dinner together she seems less shy. Or maybe it's that it's just her and August and Eleanor, rather than a whole mess of people.

"No worms," August confirms. "I'll see what your mom thinks in Spring. Fishing in winter's really cold, not a lot of fun."

"Do you like sushi?" Rachel asks Eleanor, excited now. "I like sushi a lot. I'd have it all the time if mom let me."

"No complaints," Joachim pipes up from the loveseat, where he and Zelda are sitting. He has a cup of coffee, his pumpkin pie decimated in record time.

Around a bite of apple pie, Zelda murmurs,"If mom could afford it."

"Fishing in the Spring sounds like a great idea," Eleanor agrees. Then she grins at Rachel. "I love sushi. But yeah, it's expensive. So I think of it as a special treat for special occasions. Makes me appreciate it more."

She gives Zelda a wink at that. This is nice. This is family banter. This is no one looking at her like she's the town conspiracy theorist, or a weirdo, or an awkward ginger. It's comforting.

"I guess that makes sense," Rachel decides. "If I could have a California roll every day I might get bored." She nods at Eleanor, pulls up another Minecraft video. This is of a huge magical underground cave complex she found (well, that one of her mods generated, but that's beside the point) and proceeded to transform into an alchemy laboratory, complete with glowing mana pool, plants, and random goats that spawned on grass blocks.

And so it continues. August slips an arm around Eleanor and leans into her as Rachel explains the arduous process of harvesting mana. Gabby and Eliza are victorious over a Zelda boss. The adults make small talk and relax. The holiday season is looming, but the Roens aren't about that hectic life. They'll gather in a few configurations, but there's no stress about a big dinner and gifts. August will send around grouse and geese in dry-ice packs for them to cook.

Introductions went smoothly. So, that's one thing on this trip gone right so far.