2019-12-18 - Talking Is Good

Easton saw the ad in the paper a while back and it caught his eye because it specifically called out working with veterans. It's been a while since he's talked to anyone and frankly with the way his life's been going lately it's probably a little overdue. And so he finally texts the number and sets up an appointment. And come precisely five minutes before his appointed time Easton is walking through the door in a black micro puffer jacket over dark jeans. He strips off the jacket and wanders through the buildings for a while finally finding the community rooms set aside for this purpose. He knocks on the open door and says, "Excuse me? Ma'am? I think I have an appointment?" His voice is too loud, as if it's used to shouting over crowds and though he tries to bring it down to a whisper it's still far above conversational tones.

Maggi has been making a real effort for formally set up appointments, dressed a bit more formally than she typically cared for. A black camisole is beneath a gray button down sweater. She also sports dark skinny jeans and black flats. Hey nothing was ripped or studded, that was professional enough right? Her golden hair has been blow dried, hanging over a shoulder, the shaved portion covered. Two chairs had been moved sort of close together, the folding sort. A small round wooden stool, likely pulled from elsewhere was between the chairs with a phone, clipboard, and two water bottles atop it. Was there probably an easier setup than the one she had cobbled together? Probably. She had not honestly been in the building much for several years. She opens the door laughing a bit. "Ma'am, that ones new," she says genuinely amused. "You must be Easton," she extends a hand to him, leaving the threshold open for him to cross.

Looking her over as he enters Easton tries not to wonder about why all the psychiatrists in town are pretty blonds. He nods and says, "That's right ma'am." He crosses to her with a slightly uneven gait and shakes her hand, firmly but not overly so. He takes a seat in one of the folding chairs and says, "I appreciate you seeing me." There are dark circles under his eyes and he generally looks tired, or maybe a little drunk? Maybe both. He sits forward in the seat his elbows resting on his knees and looks at her expectantly. Yes he came here to talk, but no he's not going to be the one to start.

She returns with a similar pressure, closing the door behind him. Must be something in the water, just like the fact that the ordinary of Gray Harbor were few and far between. Good thing they had bottled. A sarcastic smile crosses her lips and her eyebrow raises. "You can call me Maggi if you like. Besides, don't you own the bar that's a 'high class' competitor of my main workplace? Sir is too nice a name for me to call you on a slow day." Her tone is playful. "If anyone asks, I took a swing at you, gotta keep the rivalry alive!" She sits crossing one leg over the other in the opposite chair, the papers moving to her lap.

"Maggi it is." He used to try and suppress the military habit of calling people sir and ma'am by default but has not just accepted that it's part of his vocabulary. He grins when she reveals where she also works, "You work for Mariah? Nooo shit. We shoulda just done this at the pourhouse then. Nothing like booze to make a man chatty and you'd probably end up getting paid more in tips anyway." He laughs because it's not like people don't try to use him as a sounding board or some free therapy, too bad they are asking the exact wrong guy for advice on most things. "Feel free to at least give me a slap, you know, to make it believable."

She appreciates his slight shift in mood, her smile moving to a bit more natural expression. "Recent hire, something about people expecting money for things?"Maggi gives a chuckles at the comment about the slap. She honestly wished she were allowed to give sessions at the bar, it would be far more convenient, something about laws not liking to mix booze and mental health. "Now the business end of what I have to tell you is that this will need to be recorded. I think you filled out HIPPA paperwork via e-mail beforehand, but the only other person that will hear it is my reviewing adviser. I know things around here can be a little weird, so anything you want off the record, I just pause the recording. They won't know the difference. Sound alright?"

Easton is in fact much more at ease talking about the bar and people slapping him than the actual topics that he came here to talk about. He shakes his head at all the business talk, "Yea, that's all fine." At the part about how things can be a little weird his eyebrows raise up and he gives her an appraising look, as if wondering how much she knows about how weird things can get. He nods and says, "Yea ironically I feel like I have a handle on the weird shit, but I appreciate the offer Maggi." He waits for her to click on the recorder and start with a question or a prompt or something.

A couple clicks are made on her phone that has been sitting on the make-shift table before turning back to him once more. "Alright Easton, you know a bit about me from the ad in the paper. So, why don't you tell me some about yourself? It can be as little or as much as you like." Maggi's slender fingers remove a pen from her pocket. Uncapping it, she watches Easton with a bit more intensity. It wouldn't be uncomfortable per say, more focused.

Looking at the phone and then back up at her Easton can feel whatever ease of conversation start to slip away. He fights against it, knowing that the whole point of him coming here was to talk so it does him no good to clam up now. He doesn't seem at all uncomfortable with her watching him either, just tired mostly. "I'm Easton Marshall. I grew up in Connecticut, went to bunch of fancy ass prep schools and then pre-law at Cornell." He backs up for a minute to add, "Uh. Only child?" He's trying to be efficient in his telling. "From there I went into office training school and then the Marines. Served a few tours, some combat and then got blown up."

He stops there and looks off to the side. That telling didn't tell anything. It didn't mention Tom or his death or all the things he realizes he should probably talk about.

"I lost a friend in that same explosion. A close friend."

Ugh. Those words sound dumb. And fall short of everything.

"And after I recovered enough I came here. To get people very very drunk."

"A noble cause on all accounts." She offers with a half smile. Maggi wasn't one to often give apologies for losses. Her empty 'sorry' was going to bring anyone back, everyone was 'sorry'. A few notes are penned onto her paper before she gives him another prod. "How long have you been here in Gray Harbor?" She had some practice with Leon on some of these matters. He could talk about that death when or if he wanted to. There was no point in making people relive pain they did not want to face or in some cases relive.

Sensing a possibly different approach, she adds as an after thought. "Why did you name your bar 'Two if by Sea'?"

Easton gives a half shrug at the nobility of all accounts. He thinks about it and says, "Not long. Maybe eight months? Nine?" He shakes his head and admits, "Feels a lot longer than that." He doesn't expound on why that is though.

"Twibs? The Deuce?" Easton takes small pleasure in referring to it by two of it's nicknames. "Honestly? It made me think of Boston and seemed like a good name for a place to drink."

Maggi gives a nod of acknowledgement, but she is not going to drop that first part. Though, the second bit gets a short laugh. It was good he had such enthusiasm for his place. "If you can tell me what makes it feel like a longer amount of time, I would appreciate it." Not quite a question, more a suggestion.

"If you would rather not, I'd also like to hear a bit more about your life in GH, maybe your hobbies?" Her entire job would be way easier if she had the abilities that Leon or Bit had, life was funny that way.

"I met someone."

That's the very short version of the story for why it feels longer than that. "I fucked it up. But, it was uh.. serious. Maybe the first real thing I've ever had." Easton isn't shying away from talking about it but trying to find the right words that aren't cliche and aren't over reaching. He shrugs and says, "More than that too. Some of that weirdness that you mentioned. Learned a lot about that, and met other people like me." Like you. He doesn't say that part out loud.

"But mostly cause I met someone."

hobbies

Drinking and punching things? Sleeping with inappropriate people? Easton draws a blank and finally says, "I go shooting? Sometimes."

It's very calming. Usually. Not always.

He was going to fight her a bit, that was alright, this was the only kind she was any good at. Maggi slides the pen behind her ear, placing both elbows on her notes and resting her chin on newly interlaced fingers. "You're doing me a favor right now, one I really appreciate, but I don't think your doing yourself any for the moment." She takes a breath and watches Easton carefully. "Technically this is a church, nothing is 'supposed' to be wrong with it. I want you to point out five of the immediate flaws you find with it using any sense you like."

He was judging himself pretty hard, and the more he did, the more closed off he seemed. That had to shift one way or another. She would file the answer about shooting away in her head, but first she had to get him to ease up some.

The irony being that he's not trying to fight anything, except his own sense of the right way to talk about issues.

The talk about not doing himself any favors gets a confused look which only deepends when she asks about what's wrong with the church. He looks around and then thinks back for a second and lets his mind consider a few things. "The placement sucks, it's below the water line. There's structural damage that was never repaired. The statues are asymmetrical. It's gloomy as fuck for a church. And last but not least, pretty sure it has no place in a town like this." Granted many of those are subjective, but he's sure that's part of the exercise. And the last one is probably colored a bit by his own thoughts on faith, especially as it pertains to what he now knows about the veil.

"Now do me. What are five things I'm not telling you or areas I need to work on?"

Because Easton may rise to a challenge when given, he's also one to ask a lot of others too.

Maggi agrees wholeheartedly with his assessment about the space they were in. She is a bit thrown originally by his own question though. She had never been one much for faith, hoping there was something better out there as an option than an omniscient being.

"To me people are a bit more like cars that can be restored. I think it would be irresponsible to give you an estimate before I really know you, could be costly later on. I can tell you that you have had a way easier time talking about this church and your bar than yourself. You seem really concerned with saying things a certain way. You know yourself the best considering you have been with you for your whole life. The church is going to have it's flaws no matter what, as are you. If you stop trying so hard to make judgement and give me what you think or feel, I think I could understand you a bit easier. I don't know what experiences you have had talking to people, I can tell you my approach is a bit different."

This had the possibility to piss him off, but she certainly didn't have all the answers. If she could tell people how to run their lives, she'd have enough money not to bartend.

I can tell you my approach is a bit different

"That's true. I've never had to shit talk a church before." Easton laughs easily at that and admits, "I rather liked it."

But she is making very salient points about how guarded his language is about himself and the people he cares about. He isn't pissed off by it at all. Nor is he terribly surprised that she didn't take him up on the challenge of naming five things, though hey he didn't say not to use her abilities so there were an easy three sitting there.

"Okay." He nods and readies himself, and then just launches into. "Her name's Bennie and she's fucking amazing.."

And that's as far as he gets. He trails off and his mouth tightens into a grimace and he tries to think of words to say next but finds himself stuck there. Eventually he has to break eye contact and look down.

And all he can think is how much easier this would all be if he could just have another drink.

He was funny, she enjoyed that quite a bit. She didn't off the top of her head remember a Bennie, but Maggi had not always been very social for a townie. Whoever she was, she had to have a hell of a fire to keep up with Easton. As far as the flaws, if only Easton actually knew how shitty she was at having super powers.

"What makes her amazing in your eyes? What do you value in her?" For a vague moment her thoughts are along the same lines as far as a drink goes, partially wondering if perhaps the water could be turned to wine. Wistfully, she unclasps her fingers and takes one of the bottles sitting beside them. She unscrews the cap and takes a sip. Seven years of education and she would probably seize if someone asked her to explain her relationship with Leon too.

Focusing on a spot on the carpet, Easton loses a lot of his gregarious humor as he tries to pick words again.

"She's been through just about the worst life I've ever heard of. Always has a huge smile and this just radiating lightness and just ignores the shit out of personal space." The last bit causing only the slightest upturn of his lips.

He stops and says, "I'm sorry. This.."

He stands up abruptly and nods, "I'm going to go."

He doesn't really wait for any protest or feel the need to offer any other explanation. This was a bad idea. He wasn't ready to do this. That's what he tells himself as he makes his way to the door with his stiff legged walk and exits out the church.