2019-11-18 - Keep Calm And Addington On

Leaning against the reception desk, Patrick's having a jolly chat with the secretary on duty presently. She's pretending to move the mouse around on her computer, but really she's just busy doing the 'gaze adoringly' thing at him. Which, in her defense, is the kind of thing Patrick Addington quietly encourages in members of the minion class. His business must have been to bring flyers for the Addington House tree-trimming, the small stack of them positioned on the edge of the aforementioned desk, and he's playing idly with one while the secretary flirts her ass off.

The rest of the building is quiet right now. Lunch hour or something. And, in fact, the secretary's watch beeps at her, and she goes, "Oh, shoot! I'm late for my lunch. Are you...?" The implication is whether or not Patrick is okay here by himself, to which he nods agreeably.

"Enjoy your lunch." He's so nice. On the surface.

As are most of the Addingtons. Then they get called Slytherin's behind their backs. Erin hasn't completely stopped doing things that she used to do before. In fact, coming to the Historical Society, she had a reason for. It certainly wasn't to run into her cousin.

Erin had seen him recently enough to recognize him on sight, or maybe the voice.. flirting with the secretary wasn't all too off target either.

Dressed in one of her expensive dresses, her heels boost her already tall height several more inches. The place is familiar to her and she approaches the desk in time to realize the secretary was heading out for lunch. "Looks like I just missed her. You'll do." Turning the semi-greeting towards her cousin.

The secretary smiles graciously at Erin and mumbles her apologies, promising to be back in a jiff! Then she's scurrying out the door, presumably to eat whatever little lunch she's carrying around in her cute lunch bag.

Leaving Patrick to watch after her momentarily, leaning to one side to keep an eye on her when the door swings closed, making it that much easier for him to notice when Erin comes in about the same time. He might have had a proper greeting, but being told he'll do has him brow-lifting at her. "Will I," he replies, not quite a question but not wholly dismissing the comment entirely. At least he wears an interested-looking expression, totally listening, lay it on him.

The arched brows of the Addingtons. He had it down pat. "You look like Grandmother with that expression." Erin doesn't quite laugh because she isn't quite joking. "Yes, you'll do." Now she gives a smile, it's a little light hearted and she approaches him with a more busniness like manner.

"I've signed up to assist with a few things. One is the historical society and their up and coming celebration. I suppose I'll need to ask the secretary for the head count, but maybe you can answer this. I want to give coupons, free admission, to both the Addington House and a free ride on the Carousel, since those two things are part of the whole city. Addington Park and our name needs to continue to be known for our good deeds as well as whatever Grandmother is doing lately." Apparently she doesn't agree with the way she is acting towards her own family. "The coupons, or free passes, will go into gift bags I'm putting together for those attending the Historical Society party. The other businesses in town are being quite generous. I'm hoping Addington will be too and since I no longer make any decisions in regards to yes or no, I was going to come search for you anyway."

Pleasantly, Patrick answers that opening volley with a quick lift of his shoulders. "There are worse members of the family to emulate." Then he's quiet while Erin says her piece, maintaining his lean against the front of the reception desk with his arms crossed loosely over his midsection. There's no telling what his actual take on her commentary is, since his expression doesn't so much as slip the entire time, and his tone remains wholly pleasant in response. "How industrious of you."

He unfolds his arms only long enough to pat down the pockets of his coat, then his slacks, then shakes his head when he refolds them. "I don't seem to have any passes on me, but I'm sure we could come to some sort of agreement. How many are you after?"

"Yes. Industrious. Whatever you choose to call it. By the way, I expect I'll see you at the Thanksgiving dinner for feeding the less fortunate? It's the day before Thanksgiving so it shouldn't disrupt your holiday schedule." Which means Grandmother's holiday schedule really.

There's a knowing look in her eyes as well as the issued challenge for feeding the needy.

"Oh I didn't expect you to carry them on you, no. I quite thought there may need to be some printed up. I came here, actually, to ask the secretary for a head count, so as soon as I have that, you'll have your answer." She studies him a moment, she does know he lost family to Gohl as well, like her. So she briefly offers a softer question. "How are you doing since your return?" There's even concern in her eyes. SEE IT IN THERE? Definitely not an Addington trait, but it's there!

Patrick Addington? Feeding the hungry? Sorry, but he's got an excuse already lined up on that one. "If only you'd asked me yesterday. But let me know to whom I can make out the check for this worthy cause." Not that he's reaching for his checkbook (because who actually carries around a physical checkbook in this day and age), so he must mean metaphorically speaking. It was a worthy challenge, but his lack of caring about other people far outweighs his concern for how bad it looks to skip it.

Nodding along with the information about the head-count, he turns at the waist to peruse the notes and what-not on the secretary's desk. He doesn't go so far as to open the drawers or touch her computer, but he does scan a finger over the calendar on the surface of the desk. "Send word over to the house once you have the details." He probably means the museum. Not, y'know, wherever the Addingtons live. As for the last question, he meets the concern in Erin's eyes with a smile that acknowledges it, but he's not going to get all melty soft over it. "I'm surviving. Which is more than can be said for some people. You? It must be..." She's free to fill in the blank however she wants!

It was the expected response, "Oh I will make sure I pass along your regrets, of course. The food has already been donated. Cooks have already volunteered to cook it. We're just looking for people to serve it. There's a good list already so I'm sure you won't be missed too badly." Erin doesn't really ask, or believe, he had availability until yesterday, but she has no desire to call him on it either. "I will send word as soon as I can get the number of gift bags to fill. And I thank you for doing that, really."

Erin does search his expression for an honest emotion, though the surviving does ring a certain like emotion within her. Surviving. Grieving. Even for the living she no longer is in touch with. So when he leaves her to fill in the blank suddenly it comes out, "Lonely." Yes, that's the word she chose, she doesn't mind admitting it. "I'm glad you got to come home to the open arms of your family though. That must be a relief for them to be there for you when you need them most."

Patrick's not an easy man to read, so don't take it personally if that searching leads to no more than a superficial scratching of the surface. There are things to note - his eyes are shot through with red, shadowed, tired; and the glibness of his 'surviving' is just a thin veneer overlaying his own grief - but he hardly wears his heart on his sleeve. But, when Erin says she's lonely, she'll at least know that he has some measure of sympathy for her situation, even if his comment is a little light: "I imagine."

A twitch of impatience has him looking away and shaking his head at her latter comments. He has nothing to say about that. Just a question, "What in the world would make you think it was wise to cross Margaret? Of all people, you should have known that she would put her house in order."

There is definite sympathy for the man. She knows what he lost. They were her relatives too. Plus the ones of her parents and all the ones in between. What he lost, she lost. Where she would have reached out a hand for comfort, she lifts it then lowers it, changing her mind. Simply because she assumes it will be rebuffed.

"I didn't realize I was crossing her. I was trying to save her brother's life. What would you have done? What would you have done had you been here trying to rid a city of Gohl's influence in a powerful man such as Uncle Thomas? I never assumed I would lose my entire family. I.. never knew she didn't.. love me." It's by sheer force of will that Erin isn't crying. Oh she's devastated but she does a fine job of never breaking down because of it. "I don't even care about the money. It was her. It was them that I wanted to be a part of. I'm on my own now. Fully. I have no one." Now she realizes she's feeling sorry for herself and she straightens to her full height. "What would you have done different?"

Rest assured, if there is a hell, Patrick will be going to it when he dies: gray eyes roll in the surest expression of honest emotion since this conversation began. "Stop being so dramatic. You have no one." He makes a chiding noise, halfway between a pssh and a tchh with the exhale of air between his tongue and his teeth. "You're a fucking Addington. Get your shit together." Here, he swipes a tissue out of the box on the receptionist's desk and holds it out toward her - not kindly, just like... well, like he expects her to get her shit together. Any answers he might have about what he'd've done differently are held until she either gets her shit together or storms off. (He figures it could go either way.)

Actually, Erin reaches over and takes one just in case. Maybe she's not done yet. It's balled in her fist after she takes it and she remains there, staring at him. "I know who I am. I know what's expected of me. The only mold I stepped out of was I stopped drinking and driving. I went to school to try and better myself and I am trying to do good things for good people. I think she liked me better when I was a selfish bitch. You think I like being out of her circle? She raised me, Patrick. She is more my mother than my mother ever was. And Thomas was always the father figure I never had. I honestly want to know what you would have done differently. Because I want to know what I did wrong."

She knows who she is: "Then act like it." Patrick shakes his head at her, refolding his arms now that he's not using them to hand over tissues or read the notes on the secretary's desk.

"Same team," he points out regarding having been raised by the woman. Which may well be the only reason that he dispenses any advice or answers at all, because family is family, gdi, even if they are Addingtons. "I wasn't there, so this is all based on rumor and hearsay, but my understanding is that you rounded up your pitchfork-toting pals to turn Thomas into some sort of half-wit, then had a funeral for Gohl that Margaret went out of her way to attend for the sole purpose of expressing her displeasure. So what would I have done differently?" He takes in a big breath, lifting a shrug on the exhale. "Everything."

"I rounded up no one. They came to me. Then I heard Thomas muttering about drowning himself in the fountain to save the mess of doing it in the bathtub. Damnit Patrick, he was always such a strong man. It killed me to see him like that, resigned to drinking and his death or the asylum that only Grandmother can find. He didn't want to go, she didn't want to send him. Not really. So I severed the ties between Thomas and Gohl and then to make sure he stayed gone, we gave him the proper burial he never had. We broke something that day. Not just my relationship with my family, though that was costly enough. We broke something within the veil or something. Yes, Grandmother and Thomas both showed up to the funeral. That's the last time I saw her. I tried writing but she wants nothing to do with me. So, Everything? That's so all encompassing. And it's a safe answer because you weren't here. You weren't here to make decisions. You show up after the damage is done. Would you have had your family die at the hand of a serial killer and then take the chance of him returning?" Erin sighs, saying so much but probably not getting to the center of anything. "I couldn't take that chance."

Patrick unfolds and lifts a hand partway through Erin's comments, a 'stop' gesture with his palm that stays raised until the end. "You asked for what I would have done differently, and I answered you. Not liking my answer doesn't change it." Sighing, shaking his head, he's not entirely without sympathy for her situation, buuuuuut that sympathy doesn't manifest kindness. Only rationale. "You couldn't take that chance, so you made a decision. Knowing that it wasn't what Margaret wanted. Knowing that the woman is fiercely proud. Knowing that she asks little of her family but discretion and loyalty. Knowing that she knows more about all of this than any of us and clearly didn't think your decision was wise. You still made a decision and pursued it."

He lifts another shrug. "So, yes. Perhaps my answer is safe, as you say, but safe pays the bills."

Ah there it was. Suddenly it's clear and Patrick had pointed it out for her. Up until this very moment, Erin had truly not known what she had done wrong. Now she knows. "She will never forgive me, will she." It's not a question. "After all she did for me, she feels I wasn't loyal to her. I never saw it as being disloyal. Especially when she gave us options and time. I should have realized. Now it's too late and I cannot go back and change anything." This time it's her that waves off his final bit of words. "For me? It's not about the money. It used to be. I know what I miss more than that. I miss my family."

It's hard to be sure if Patrick just likes being the bearer of bad news or truly believes it when he replies, "It doesn't seem likely," for the odds of Margaret ever forgiving Erin. "But," with an inhale, "stranger things have happened. Or hope springs eternal. I don't know." He bats a hand. "Pick whichever little saying is more appropriate." He's not good at this stuff. Hence his, "That's very noble of you," in response to it not being about the money. "But it's all part and parcel. If you want my advice?" Honestly. "Keep a stiff upper-lip. Perhaps the old woman will be dead soon."

But he really doesn't believe that. 🙁

"I don't want her to be dead soon." Erin counters honestly. "At least when she's alive there's a chance of her missing me. Or something." She's reaching, she knows it. "I guess all I can say is that appreciate what you have while you have it. I'm going to do the same. This is my first Christmas home alone. I intend on going all out with my decorations and my tree." At least it was something to look forward to. "I'd say pass along my best wishes for a Happy Holiday for me, but I'd hate for her to associate you with me." She gives a lopsided smile. "I will get in touch with you though, at Addington House, when I have a head count."

"You're a fool if you think she doesn't miss you or love you. Just because things don't work out between people doesn't mean the affection is gone. It's just that, for people like Margaret, there are far more important things than affection." Not that Patrick is projecting or anything, but he totally is. Straightening a little from where he's been resolutely leaning all this while, he nods at the pluck that Erin pulls from wherever, chiming, "Good start," toward his suggestion of a stiff upper-lip. "I'll look for your call. Or email. Or whatever it is you kids do these days. Always a pleasure, cousin."

Erin holds that thought close to her heart and will pull it out later and examine it. The one about her grandmother still loving her or missing her. "Thank you. If you need anything from me, just let me know. I offer, but I'm pretty sure you've got all you need. Just take care of yourself though. It was good to see you again. I'm sorry I came in all defensive." Glancing towards the door, she gives an encouraging smile. "It looked like she was interested in what you had to say. I'll catch up with her later." Turning for the door she glances back. "Probably not always." A pleasure. "Even I know that." A grin his way and a brief wave before she turns to go.