2020-01-09 - The Inevitable Breakfast

If there was one thing that had stayed consistent about Dahlia from her younger years - it was that she was busy. She would work herself to death if people would let her. They wouldn't. When Clifford had sent her a text that he was back in town, Dahlia had mixed feelings. They'd never really been close and things didn't get much better with the whole mom thing. She had made excuses about having to work or already having something going on but finally, FINALLY, she sent him a message that she would meet him for breakfast at the Waffle House to chat and catch up.

Dahlia was seated at a window table, keeping an eye out for her oldest brother. She felt a little nervous, anxious maybe. Not too sure how things would go. At least he was here now and not when she was going though that whole cocaine phase! She was in a much better place nowadays. Her attire was simple, a pair of nice black jeans with a white v-neck shirt. Her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and a mug of hot chocolate sitting in front of her.

Clifford had been persistent. The first text was to let Dahlia know he was in town. Then another to let her know he'd found a place. Another to joke about how Gray Harbor never changes after his apartment building was swarmed by emergency responders. Days between, each of them, but steady reminders of his presence and desire to catch up. She wasn't going to get to blow him off. That disappearing trick was his.

He looks like he's probably dressed for work when enters the Waffle Shoppe, a black overcoat worn atop a dark grey button-down and black slacks. No tie today. It's practically casual. Stopping just inside, he takes the three seconds needed to scan the place before spotting Dahlia and smiling her way, a little bit smugly as if she hadn't told him just where to find her today. His coat's folded over his arm already by the time he makes it to the table, deposited onto the seat beside him as he settles in across from her. "Are we getting waffles?" dodges anything personal out the gates. "Think I could go for some waffles."

He had been persistent and Dahlia had been curt. Short responses, or no responses. Though she does make sure to ask if he's okay when he mentioned the Emegency Responders swarming the apartments. Dahlia spies Clifford walking up to to the front door and those bright, emerald eyes track him as he moves through it. She is proud of herself for supressing an eyeroll at that smug look on Clifford's face. Instead, she summons up a smile. It was good to see him in the flesh, despite everything. "I know I'm getting waffles." She looks towards the menu briefly. "The menu's not changed much at all honestly, but everything is still just as good."

Dahlia takes a careful sip of her cocoa as she nudges her menu over to him. "I'm going to get whipped cream and strawberries on mine." She eyed him a moment. "Have you found a job already?" Curious, the way he's all dressed up.

Clifford's 'mm' for Dahlia's waffle-topping preference is unduly serious, as is the, "Smart choice," which follows as he takes up the offered menu and gives it some study. Consideration which is then interrupted by her inquiry. He peeks up, tilts his head one way and then the next. "Meeting with some potential clients to see if I might be able to make a viable go of private practice," rather than signing on with an accounting firm or taking a position at a private company. It's a gamble, but it speaks to his current savings and what he might be able to endure should it not pan out. He doesn't look back to the menu as he asks his sister directly, "What have you been doing?"

"Of course it is." To her choice of toppings being smart. She relaxes ever so slightly into her chair. "Oh I doubt you'll have issues finding some clients." Dahlia mused, especially with that silver tongue of his. There was a beat of pause when he asked her what she'd been up to before, "Bartending. At Firefly." Definitely not also getting ready to get back into stripping at Platinum Caberet. "Not quite like all the waitressing I was doing in LA but I've caught on nicely." Also she was totally not involved minorly with Felix either. Definitely not. Perfect angel over here. "Since you're in town, we need to decide what to do with everything in the trailer."

"It's about finding the right clients," Cliff notes, though there doesn't seem the faintest inkling of doubt in his tone about that either. It almost certainly could've gone without saying. The nod for the reported job seems approving. Mostly. Whatever reservation accompanies that acceptance goes unspoken for the moment. In no small part because he's distracted by that last note, easy smile faltering.

The server sees the seconds of silence which follow as an opening, stepping up to take their order, which brings his smile back, an easily adopted mask of normality that extends to the calm amiability in his voice. "Pecan waffles with a side of bacon. And coffee when you get a chance, thanks." His focus falls back on his sister after he hands the menu off, leaving him ready to remark that, "I figured you would've had that handled by now," when the server takes off again.

It was Dahlia's turn to make that thoughtful little noise when he mentioned the 'right' clients. Watching his reaction carefully. She offered up a smile towards the waitress as well as she put in her own order. A sure sign the pair had to be related. How easily they plastered on that mask. When the waitress was out of sight again, Dahlia wasn't smiling anymore. Her focus back on Cliff and his comment. She hadn't told him, any of them, about the weird scenario that had presented itself prior to her finding their mother dead. About how it had all shook her so badly and how she couldn't stand to be in that trailer by herself.

"If it was up to me I'd burn the whole goddamned place to the ground." And she wasn't joking. "If you don't care and don't want anything and don't think the other two will want anything. I'll call the junk people and have them take care of it." She was trying to keep her tone neutral at the very least.

Clifford leans back in his seat, sinking down a little as he studies Dahlia across the table. His thumb flicks restlessly at the corner of the paper ring securing the napkin wrapped around his utensils. Until he catches himself and waves his hand in a vague, shallow gesture as he decides, "No," for the plan of just having strangers empty it all out unseen. "I'll go through it." Not we. "Should make sure there aren't any documents we might need to get everything settled up." Pragmatic. Not sentimental. Mostly. Probably. "Have you heard from either of them?"

Good. He could do whatever he wanted, and if he didn't want Dahlia's help, all the better. If she could go the rest of her life without going back there - she would. "Might be." The only thing she'd taken was her mother's wedding dress. Which was still sitting in the closet of her room at Justin's but at least it was repaired now. There's a little shake of her head. "No. Not since I called about everything." Taking another sip of cocoa. "I was surprised when you said you were back in town. Thought you'd sworn this hell hole off."

"Maybe if my baby sister wasn't settling back into this hellhole all by her lonesome," Clifford counters, surely aware of how well that'll land. His timing's perfect, though, the server arriving with his cup and some coffee to pour into it, his charming smile turned her way with a grateful, "Thank you," as he lifts his mug, venturing a taste before deciding whether or not to doctor it. A faint wince precedes the addition of a little half-and-half. "I spoke with Eddie over the holidays. Not about..." That silence hangs for a second or two before he picks up where he meant to be heading. "I think he might want a look, too. Close as they were."

Cliff is extremely lucky the server showed up because it's written all over Dahlia's face that she would very much like to tear him a new one. Instead she offers a polite thank you to the waitress and takes a bite of waffle to delay herself. Swallowing,

"Well if my dear brother hadn't saddled me with playing nurse I'd still be in LA." She muttered. "But don't you worry about me. I'm not all on my lonesome. Justin moved back." Justin being her best friend ever since childhood who visited in the summers. "...and I met someone. " that last bit spoken a bit awkwardly. Like she was telling a father figure instead of a sibling.

Clifford might look a little more guilty at Dahlia's reply if he hadn't been expecting pretty much exactly that. Instead, he flashes a dry, flat smile, lacking in anything actually resembling humor. Another sip of his coffee, now that it's mellowed with the cream, and he seems satisfied, moving on to his own waffles. In theory. That last comment stops him short. "Is that why you're staying?" might be a rhetorical question, quick as he is to move onto asking, "Who is this someone?"

Dahlia merely offers a nod as to the reason she's staying. One of them at the very least. She takes another bite of waffle, sighing contently and perhaps stalling a bit. Swallowing. "His name is Declan. He's a handy man." Clifford may or may not recognize he name of the man that is a few years younger than he is since Declan grew up around here himself. "I just moved in with him last month."

Clifford takes that time to enjoy his waffles some, too, though whatever appreciation he might have for the sweet treat is muted by his sustained curiosity about what his sister's been up to and who she's been up to it with. If the name is familiar, it doesn't register across his features. What does find expression is some undoubtedly undue judgment at the swiftness with which Dahlia's moving in with this guy he's never met. Just like he's never met, well, anyone else she's been involved with over the last several years. Doesn't keep him from asking, "Little quick, isn't it? How well do you know this guy? What kind of place are you sharing?"

"I've been here since, what, march? I met him in...Juneish? 6 months is not quick Cliff." Not to Dahlia at least. "I know him well enough to know that he's a good guy, way too humble, and he makes me happy. He owns a house not too far from the beach. So that's where we're staying. I was crashing with Justin at his place on Bayside, paying him rent - though he tried to tell me not to. But Declan feels like....home." Dahlia decided finally, focusing down on her waffles, picking a bit until she speared a slice of strawberry to eat. "You leave any broken hearts where you left?"

Clifford doesn't quite manage to hide the has it really been that long that crosses his face, the flash of surprise which sinks into something far heavier. He turns his attention back to his waffles rather than leaving that emotion on open display. He doesn't look up again until she says 'home,' just in time for Dahlia to look away. What does home even feel like? Is that a good feeling to someone who's been running from it most of their adult life? He clears his throat at the question, summoning his smile back up with a tiny chuckle. "Only a few," might be a lie. Especially given that he follows it up with, "My last relationship ended with very loud declarations that I'm..." He makes it look like he has to think about that fight to quote it correctly. "An arrogant, condescending asshole who's not right as often as he likes to think he is--" He points his fork lazily toward his sister as he interjects, "Which is wrong," just to be clear. No contention with the previous points. "--and who works too much to know what fun even looks like." His smile flashes wide. "I'd like to meet this Declan sometime."

Dahlia caught the look that crossed Cliff's face when she mentioned the time she'd been here. She sympathized a small amount but didn't dwell on it. It was hard to believe so much time had passed since she came here. Since things started going weird. She looked up as Cliff started to quote an ex, unable to help herself from laughing. "Sounds about right." She mused, just a light touch of teasing in her tone, making an exaggerated sort of nod when he said he was often right. "Oh, of course you are. When you're an old man you're always right." Smirking just a touch before another bite of waffle is consumed. There's a nod when he comments on seeing Declan. "He's a busy guy but I'm sure he'd like to meet you too. I'll see what I can arrange." Eventually. Probably.

Clifford clucks his tongue at that quip from his sister, quick to counter, "I've always been always right," as if she already knows this, as if it was some inescapable facet of his nature. His helpless smile implies that there's simply nothing to be done about it. Another bite of breakfast delays his response by a few seconds, though there's a nod to acknowledge Mr. Handiman's schedule. "Hoping I'll be busy soon, too," sounds like the beginning of a larger thought, but he catches himself before he finishes, redirecting to, "But I'm sure we'll find some off hours." Starting toward his next bite, he pauses, smile sinking toward seriousness for a second. "I'm glad you're doing well for yourself. Maybe coming home wasn't the worst thing."

Dahlia shook her head a bit still looking amused as she ate some more waffle. "We will. I'm sure." She agreed about finding free time. Those green eyes lingered on him for a beat before finally nodding. "No...it wasn't. I still miss LA but...it's not so awful here." She gave a wry smile then brightened a bit. "Justin's mom is hooking us up with a movie script. So I might actually land a leading gig if it makes it to film."

Clifford answers that smile in kind, like how not-so-awful it will be for him remains to be seen, but this is an alright start. Mention of a movie script piques his curiosity, but that interest sharpens slightly as he studies her across the table. "A real movie? Not like your prior work?" His lips press flat, the look unamused... and a little bit uncomfortable.

Dahlia as her fork to her lips when Clifford says that. Prior work. She falters a touch and then stuffs the piece of waffle in her mouth. She had been in movies before. Well, very minor roles or just filling a scene. Nothing major. But the way he says it...how did he know?? She swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression. "Yes, a real movie. What is that even supposed to mean Cliff?" Trying to feel out and confirm...though she can already feel her stomach knotting.

Clifford continues to study Dahlia for a few seconds after she counters his questions with one of her own. His tongue works over his teeth, like there might be some piece of pecan stuck somewhere, ending in a quiet tch. "If you needed money, you could've asked." Cuz that would've been a fun conversation! "Have you thought about how doing porn's going to impact your prospects? Who might recognize you? Like maybe a producer who thinks he can get a little bit extra out of you because he's seen what you're willing to do? Or maybe a room full of your brother's friends who, when he points out that the girl in the cafe scene is his baby sister, tell him where they've seen her before?"

Dahlia can feel her her cheeks redden a bit as Clifford starts in. Her grip on her fork tightening briefly. Just...keep cool Dahl. Be an adult! "What I do with my body is my business. It wasn't just about needing money Cliff. Maybe I liked doing it." She countered back, somewhat defiantly. "Who cares if people recognize me? It's better than some random leaked sex tape or nudes causing a scandal." Her conversation with Genevieve resurfaced in her mind, something that felt like it happened eons ago. "How did you even find out anyway, hm?" Skin still tinged pink though.

Clifford cares if people recognize her. He does. He even raises his hand in wordless answer. "Watching a movie with some friends. You were in it. Buddy recognized you from somewhere else." He doesn't tell her about the awkward, potentially descriptive comments about how hot his sister is. They're not words he really wants to hear again. Not in his head, and not in his own voice. "And you should care if people recognizing you. Building a legitimate career in an industry that already under-values and over-sexualizes women is gonna be lot harder if you undermine your own progress like that." With a shake of his head, he adds, "And you've got three brothers, Dahlia." Who could stumble on it accidentally, he means. "C'mon."

Dahlia tries and fails to suppress a scowl. Stabbing at a piece of strawberry with her fork. "Well maybe you should find a woman who can stand you so you don't have to lower yourself to watching such things." Dahlia shot back. "Or a man even. I don't judge." She looked like she could say more. Wanted to say more, but instead she just draws in a slow inhale and exhale. "It's not like I'm going to get famous anyway." She had pretty much resigned herself to the fact that she was likely not going to become a movie star. Not even if this movie with Justin did take off. "So don't worry. I doubt you'll have to point me out any time soon." Of course, she also wasn't really thinking about how Clifford or her brothers would feel about seeing her, or having friends point her out like that.

Whatever big brother indignation Clifford had mustered, whatever lectures he might be putting together, it all simply deflates at Dahlia's resignation, a sigh expelled as his shoulders sink. "You've got a script coming in," he reminds encouragingly. Awkwardly. It's been a while since he tried on this supportive role. "And nobody works harder than Evergreens do," comes with a little more confidence, that part easily sold. "Do you know what it's about?" Back to the waffles. Safe, safe, tasty waffles.

Dahlia is waiting for the lectures. The comebacks. So, she's a little caught off guard when he doesn't do any of that. She draws in a soft breath and put on a smile. "That's true." To Evergreens being hard workers. "I do, I think it's some kind of...jungle thing...seems interesting. Like Indiana Jones type stuff." She explained. "So how are you liking that apartment? Besides the emergency responder situation." Dahlia would try her best to keep the chatter neutral for the remainder of breakfast because, in the end, she didn't want to fight with Clifford and she had missed him at least a little bit. It had been so long since she'd had a proper conversation with any of them, she didn't want it to be spent arguing.