2020-04-03 - Friends In An Unexpected Place

She’s giving Wayne some space, she’s avoiding Easton, and she’s procrastinating in terms of getting work done for Byron. It seems to work out just fine for Katherine, despite being busy. She’s mostly been in Seattle about two hours away, busy with meetings about mergers, acquisions and negotiations. Even another job prospect in the horizon, a company wanting her to lead up their legal department. There is a lot going for Katherine in the last couple of weeks since her birthday.

The brunette is sitting at the bar in black slacks and a pink blouse, nursing a rum and coke, her typical drink, a little heavy on the rum by request. She’s also texting. Friends don’t let friends drink and text, but as it turns out, she doesn’t have that many in town.

Friday night just a few minutes past 8pm finds Geoff opening the door to the Pourhouse so that Harper can precede him inside. The librarian is wearing a pair of fitted black pants, a periwinkle silk tank top over which she wears a weathered denim jacket against the still faintly chilly Spring evenings. She is laughing as she passes under Geoff's arm and into the bar. "I don't think I've ever seen a squirrel in the book drop. But it seems only logical to make that announcement." She stops a few steps inside and scans the Friday-night crowd populating the tavern. "Maybe we could sit up at the --"

Harper grabs at Geoff's sleeve with two fingers as she catches sight of Katherine sitting there, turning her head up to murmur close to his ear as she pushes up to her toes to ask him, "Isn't that the woman who was with Byron the other night when we ... mmm ... played with the wolves?" Harper doesn't know that the pair didn't arrive together. She got to Easton's Dream a couple of minutes after the other three arrived and were engaged. And the group ended up unintentionally pairing off. "Easton called her KK." So he knew her. "Let's go say hello." Harper laces her fingers with Geoff's and tugs him over toward Katherine. But let's face facts: if Geoff didn't want to go in that direction, it's unlikely that Harper would be able to drag him there.

"Right? I'm really curious about where that library is...Also I do hope you know that from now on I am going to announce myself like that when entering the library, just so everyone knows." Geoff responds to Harper with a warm grin and then there is the stopping upon spotting Katherine. Leaning in he says casually to Harper "I think she's his ex, you could have cut the tension with the knife...It was like one of the mid seasons of x-files. Let's go say hi." And with that they're making their way over towards the woman seated at the bar. Geoff announcing them with his peerless tact and renowned friendliness "So I see you didn't get run away after that. The first time is sometimes the worst." Sometimes it gets worse.

There is a lack of movement from Katherine as she opts not to even turn her head to look at the source of the voice. “As long as I have my reason to stay, I’m not leaving town,” she says matter of factly as she drinks, her eyes fixed on her phone for a moment.

It takes her a couple of minutes to look up at Geoff who had addressed her and she nods to acknowledge him. “You were...Ithaca, the trail...” Her voice trails off as she realizes that they would not know the significance of the location of their Dream. “Hi,” she says with a low voice, her tone quiet and subdued. She turns to the bartender and says, “Put their drinks on my tab.” She points at Harper and Geoff.

"Somewhere with conniving squirrels with a taste for literary delights, of course." Where the library they're talking about is located. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't." Announce himself in some bizarre fashion that is not clear from their conversation. Harper turns her head when Geoff leans in and plants a soft, smiling kiss on him. "Let's." Geoff's little tidbit of information about who Katherine might be flickers a spark of added interest to Harper's brown-eyed gaze.

Ready or not. The pair make their way to where Katherine is settled at the bar with her R&C, Harper stopping partly in front of Geoff, but quite close to man, nevertheless. The librarian contemplates the lawyer who doesn't even turn her head at the start. This fits the first impression when she didn't want to let Harper see her injury. But the chilly reception doesn't put Harper off. No. Harper's a different sort, entirely, than the easily dissuaded type.

"You're name is Katherine, right? I'm Harper and this is Geoff." In case she forgot. Harper tosses her head faintly to indicate the man over her shoulder with the introduction. "I find that not leaving town has been a good strategy. In the long run." That addendum is important.

Ah! Katherine makes eye contact. Harper smiles at the woman. "I'm glad to see you're all right." All right is relative in this case. Drinks on Katherine's tab? "How generous of you. But what if we're binge drinkers?" Is everything a game to the woman in the denim jacket? Perhaps it was an invitation. Harper drags a couple of stools closer and climbs onto one to perch between Katherine and Geoff. "Would you like to talk about it? We're good listeners. Well, I am. Geoff just tends to make conversations far more interesting."

"Oh absolutely, I hate letting things win or get the better of me. So do everything on your own time, and don't let werewolves get the better of you." Geoff casually relates and mounts the stool Harper has brought over "And thanks for the drink, I'll have to buy a round or two sometime." Then harper is talking about being a good listener, prompting an easy going nod from from Geoff "I'm not the worst at listening, but I can also commiserate."

“I spend most of my time working. I have money to burn, so if you want to drink, by all means; don’t worry about owing me anything,” is the first comment Katherine makes, addressing comments made by both Harper and Geoff as she scrolls mindlessly through something on her phone.

Geoff’s comment about not letting things get the best of her is met with a derisive scoff. “I’m normally really good at not letting things get to me but...I have my weaknesses.” She shrugs. “What makes me a good lawyer doesn’t necessarily make me...” She lets her voice trail off, not completing the thought.

The invitation to talk is kind, but Katherine isn’t necessarily comfortable discussing what’s bothering her. Instead, she asks, “So, how long have you known Easton? Are you guys close?” She tries really hard not to sound like there’s anything bothering her.

And that's where the connection between Byron and Katherine starts to make sense. The woman has money to burn. "Definitely don't burn it. I can think of all sorts of other options," Harper murmurs capriciously. Katherine's attention turns back to her phone, so Harper catches a bartender and orders a Greyhound. She then points to Geoff who will quite likely order what he wants. "Thanks," she unnecessarily tells the 'tender.

Harper's attention returns to Kate. "The Dream tends to play on weaknesses. It happens to us all." Her amiable tone persists. Easton. "Geoff and Easton are pretty close. I'm more what you'd call a collateral friend: he has to put up with me to spend time with Geoff." Harper may be exaggerating, but it's difficult to tell. Should Kate look up from her phone, she'll find Harper's gaze on her. "What about you, Katherine? How do you know Easton?" Because Harper wants to know!

Geoff flashes the bartender a grin "I'll take whatever lager you recommend most, thanks." turning his attention back to Kathering he nods agreeably "You could say Easton and I are fairly close, we've known each other for a while now. Been married for a bit." he throws out as if it is to be expected. Grinning to Harper he tells her "I think it's more a feature that he gets the pleasure of hanging out with you when he and I get into trouble, not a cost of doing business" attention turning back to Katherine he seems interested to find out just what the story of her and Easton is.

When Geoff mentions being married to Easton, Katherine flippantly comments while sending a text and not looking at him for a reaction, “It’s nice to see he’s able to commit to something.” She immediately regrets her reaction, feeling as though she’d revealed her hand too early.

Back to Harper’s question, Katherine recalls Easton mentioning they were exes, so she carefully explains, “We dated once upon a time, in college and went our separate ways while I was in law school.” Despite everything that’s happened between them, Katherine avoids revealing the circumstances around their breakup. She genuinely doesn’t want to change anything about the life he’s built for himself, and that includes possibly changing what people might think of him. So she withholds the details.

Harper arches a brow just so, though she shows no other reaction to the snippy comment about Easton Marshall. Her grapefruit juice and vodka arrives and she taps her glass against Geoff's bottle (or mug) in a toast of sorts. Clink. "To Easton and his sordid history. And to Katherine and her initiation to Gray Harbor." She takes a drink, then swirls the liquid around as ice cubes dance in her drink. "College. I think I'd like to see what college-Easton was like." There isn't likely much that Katherine might reveal that would sway Harper's already-formed opinion of the man Easton is. "It's a truly small world. Even smaller once you settle in this town." Harper pauses and considers the woman, glances to Geoff, and back again. "Pardon me, Katherine but are we interrupting you? We can go find a table if you prefer." The fact that Katherine has no reaction to the talk of marriage seems to intrigue the librarian. "I can be nosy ... well, on most occasions, but I'm not obtuse."

Geoff laughs at Katherine's response and says with no small amount of amusement "When it comes to commitment, I don't think that Easton has a leg to stand on." Is that a dig at his lack of a leg? It absolutely is, probably more so a joke about the man then it is actually a commentary on his commitment issues. Goeff dips his head "If we're interrupting you we can." he gestures to Harper "Like she said, we could go find another table and talk of library squirrels and the other sorts of animals that find their ways into book repositories." with a mischievous grin he tells Harper "We haven't had the Lee Harvey Oswald talk yet."

Katherine joins in on the toast from Harper with a faint smile and when Harper asks about Easton as she knew him back then, she pulls a picture up on her phone, the only one she has from back in the day, downloaded and saved before she deleted her Friendzone account. It’s a picture of her and Easton from some random event on Greek Row, she was wearing the shirt she had stolen from him that she recently returned. They were both wearing the brightest smiles. She hands the phone over to Harper for her to take a closer look.

“He was a typical frat boy, a jock, but like, serious. He was always super disciplined. But also got into random shenanigans.”

Despite her own mood, she laughs at Geoff’s joke, possibly because she’s had more than one drink. “Stay, I was just trying to sort out my relationship problems. I met someone new then promptly screwed up by letting my anger get the best of me. Trying to figure out what else to do to get Wayne to give things another shot.”

Speaking of another shot, she asks for more alcohol. More rum and coke. Because fuck it. Why not?

Geoff makes his delightfully horrible comment about Easton, his leg, and commitment. Harper's amused laughter is quiet and seemingly genuine. With the hand not holding her glass she lightly smacks Geoff's nearer bicep. But the words oppose the action. "Point for Turner," she announces. "Such low hanging fruit when your husband isn't even here to defend his honor." Easton's honor? Yep. Harper just said that.

Geoff speaks up and Harper might be already scanning the room for places for them to relocate to. But then a phone is passed to her from the woman giving off the mixed signals. Her wish to see college-Easton is answered more directly than she may have expected. She looks at the picture, touches two fingers to the screen to enlarge it, then shows it to Geoff. "He's so young and ... cocky." Handing the phone back to Katherine, Harper confirms (as if Katherine had asked for such), "Yep. That's Easton."

Geoff promises talk of repositories and L.H. Oswald. "Don't tease me, Geoff. It's just not fair. At least not here." Because a bar isn't a place for playful conversation? Katherine adds some interesting details. "So much to unpack there," Harper begins. "Jock. Frat boy. Serious. Disciplined. And shenanigan-prone?" Harper verbally flips through those cue cards as she contemplates the man she knows from much more recently.

Relationship problems. "So you have an on again, off again beau? I'm sure you'll win him back. How could he not come running with such a catch?" Harper gestures in a sweeping motion with her glass to indicate the form Katherine presents. "I'm sure Wayne is missing you already." Harper takes another swallow of her drink. It's halfway gone now.

Geoff leans in to glance at the picture of Easton with a grin, "Yeah that's definitely the Easton we know and love, just a bit less beaten by life's worries." Brushing his hand against the back of Harper's he says solemnly "I can't help myself, you know I have a condition where I love to tease you." With a frown towards Katherine he shakes his head slowly "No, don't try to get back together with him. Your first clue that it wasn't going to work should have been his name. Nothing good has ever come from a man named Wayne whose surname wasn't Gretzky and if he doesn't have some sort of fountain." Otherwise he snorts softly and nods along with Harper's assessment of things.

“Well, I’m hoping my attempts at reaching out and explaining the situation are going to work out. We were on, now we’re off, I’m hoping we’ll be on again at some point. It’s been a hell of a month. I don’t mind your company. I just want to catch whatever messages I can from Wayne.”

When her second drink arrives, it’s about as strong as the first one, stronger than usual. Katherine smiles. It’s just the way she likes it.

“He seems...like he’s finally giving himself permission to be happy again here,” Katherine comments quietly, “You guys are lucky to have him.” She appears to tense up like there’s so much she’s holding back, holding in. Things she wants say. Questions she wants to ask. But she manages to hold it all in.

Katherine rolls her eyes at Geoff’s comment. “The one thing Wayne did show me was that I had to resolve my issues with Easton before I could properly move on, and I think I have. So that’s good.” There is a pause before she confesses, “I was supposed to return a bunch of stuff the other day but I chickened out and left the stuff at his door. The last thing I want is to upset him or disrupt his life, you know?”

Harper scoots over to resettle atop Geoff's knee while Katherine explains her Wayne-situation. "I've found that time brings the best resolution." Geoff slides his arm around Harper's midriff and agrees in his own inimitable, roguish way. Harper finishes her drink and taps at her glass the next time the bartender passes by. Soon enough she's got another of those juicy-vodka drinks. "Thanks, Billy," she tells the man. He's wearing a nametag after all. Harpers words may be a bit more fluid as she speaks. Could the woman be that much of a lightweight?

"Easton is a complex man. Except in the spots where is ruthlessly straight-forward. I'm sure you know this, Katherine." Harper quiets as Katherine responds to Geoff. "How long ago did you and Easton break things off?" Because timelines are important. The librarian listens about Katherine leaving things at Easton's door. "Forgive me if I'm overstepping bounds here, but I think you might be surprised at how ... unruffled he tends to get these days. I think, given your concerns, it might be that he's learned to choose what to pour that intensity into more than he might have in the past. He seemed quite thoughtful of you after all that fighting," she notes thoughtfully. "I don't think you need to worry about disrupting his life."

Maybe he's also wanting to go somewhere he's less of a regular than his usual spot propping up the bar at the Twofer. But there's Joe, looking tired and eminently content in just t-shirt and jeans and old boots. No hat, but there're only beads of rain in his hair, as he comes ambling over to claim a stool, a hint of that roll in his stride.

“Almost two years.”

Katherine seems to take Harper’s words to heart about Easton choosing where to put his intensity but then she sighs. “Even after almost two years, we can still bring the worse out of each other or at least we have over the past month,” she admits, “But he reached out to me to apologize. That’s not something I expected from him. It’s hard but I really want to forgive him, more for my own sake than for his. I want to move forward.”

When the newcomer enters the bar, Katherine vaguely recognzies the man from the night after her birthday, and the confrontation with Easton. She sighs, hoping that she isn’t recognized. She refocuses her attention on Harper, starting to feel like opening up a little more. Yup, it’s definitely the alcohol ‘helping’.

Geoff excuses himself from being Harper's barstool to go play a game of pool with another Gray Harbor homeboy. Harper resettles herself atop his stool and props her feet up on the rung of the empty stool between herself and Katherine. She's wearing black fitted pants, a periwinkle silk sleeveless blouse, and a denim jacket. In one hand she loosely holds a squat glass of some mixed drink. Joseph sitting down a stool or two further down the bar earns him a warm smile and a curious look. "Evening," she greets. Because Harper is all about the inclusive. Eventually ... eventually Harper turns her attention back to Katherine. "I suppose that's the nature of crossing paths with someone you burned brightly with after some time has passed, yes?" It may be that Harper is making an educated guess about the situation. Or perhaps she's just that adept at being neutral. "Forgiveness is liberating. Even moreso, I think, for the one doing the forgiving." She takes a slow drink from that Greyhound. "Wanting to move forward sounds healthy, Katherine." Harper's warm brown-eyed gaze slides back to Joseph when Katherine looks to the man, sketching a glance at his rain-bespeckled person. "Is it raining again? We must have just missed it." Which 'we' she's referring to isn't so apparent.

At the question, he looks over, smiling a little. "Jus' the tiniest bit," he says. "More an ambitious mist, truth be tol'." Joe's got an absurd Southern drawl, redolent of a distant, warmer coast. A glance between them, but there's no overt sign of recognition when it comes to Katherine. Either he genuinely doesn't remember, or he's just too good mannered to show it.

Katherine nods to acknowledge Joseph, who doesn’t seem to recognize her and relief is visitor on her features.

“It’s hard not to be angry when you’re the one who got burned,” Katherine admits quietly to Harper, the alcohol now flowing freely from her glass to her mouth, “But for whatever reason, I could never bring myself to hate him, even when I wanted to make him pay. As soon as he asked for it, I gave him a chance to apologize, no matter how much he hurt me.”

Harper's smile tips a few degrees warmer at Joseph's response to her query. "An ambitious mist sounds just about right for tonight. Maybe a promenade down to the beach is in order." Silk blouse be damned. She offers her hand to Joseph. "Harper Price." Seemingly unaware of the Katherine's dynamic toward Joseph, Harper gestures with her glass while potentially shaking Joseph's hand, "And this is Katherine. I think it's just Katherine like 'Madonna' or 'Sting' or 'Prince', but I'm not certain." Laughter plays over Harper's features even if she doesn't quite voice it.

Back to Katherine. "Speaking as the one who has always done the burning, I beg your forgiveness for all of us. We are worms, baseless, and completely inconsiderate of other gentle souls." Take another drink, Harper. She shakes her head in tacit agreement with what Katherine has said. "He's a difficult man to hate, I'll grant you that. Though I haven't really tried, to be honest." No matter how much? "Good for you, Katherine." Harper toasts to the largesse of Katherine's character and forgiving spirit. Almost done with that second glass of vodka with a little splash of grapefruit juice. Harper glances over toward the pool table/s and back to the bar once more.

Itzhak comes rolling in, his stride long and half-sauntering, dusting mist out of his curly black hair. He looks at Joe, first, eyes going right to him, and his eyebrows quirk up interrogatively. "Who we talkin' about?" he says, looking then at Harper, who he almost thinks he recognizes, and Katherine, who he's sure he doesn't. Maybe. Probably. He rocks on up to the bar, next to Joe, and orders a drink.

"It's definitely a good night for it," Joe agrees. "But then, I think mos' nights are. Kinna biased on the subject, I admit." He peels himself away from the bar where a bartender's just set down the Jack and coke he ordered to come take her hand. His handshake is firm, the long hand warm and dry and callused. "Joe Cavanaugh. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Price." Then he's turning that smile on Katherine. "I'm old enough that the first single name folks I remember are Sonny and Cher," he asides to Harper, cheerfully conspiratorial.

Itzhak's appearance only makes his grin broaden. "And this tall drink of water here is my friend, Itzhak Rosencrantz. Itzhak, d'you know Harper and Katherine?" It's a small town and Itz's been here a lot longer than he has.

Clinking glasses with Harper, Katherine asks for another drink. She appreciates the sentiment, though it’s hard not to feel hurt by the fact that Easton seems to be happier without her. It still stings, despite the fact that they are not meant to be. “Thanks. Like I said, I’m ready for my fresh start. And the fact that he apologized helps bring closure.”

It occurs to Katherine that whatever introduction Easton makes on her behalf, she’s always Katherine the ex and no one actually knows her last name, except for the person she’s working for, Byron Thorne.

“Kennedy. Katherine Kennedy. I’ve only been here since late October. I’m a relatively new face to most,” she explains for everyone’s benefit.

"I'm with you on the topic of beach visits, Joe," Harper replies agreeably and with a languid turn of syllables that accompanies the second half of her second drink. The librarian is a lightweight. She shakes his warm, calloused hand with a thoughtful expression, slow to remember to let it go. "Please, call me Harper. Miss Price is my sister. Though, I don't have a sister, so it gets confusing." Sonny and Cher? "Baby don't go?" She cants her head with a playful expression. It'd be too easy to go for the most famous tune. What she really wants to do is push it down further to the Captain and Tennille. But that would disrail all the somber talk of forgiveness and life journeys.

She'd turn back to Katherine, but then Itzak's being introduced. And though the man might not know her, Harper readily recognizes him, even without a glittery costume. "Itzhak Rosencrantz. The name fits. And you are a marvelous musician. It's a pleasure to meet you face to face." Harper slips off her stool in order to streeetch further down to offer her hand to the man. It doesn't sound like there's a heavy subtext to her introductory commentary.

Fortunately for Katherine, Harper didn't get the Easton's-ex introduction. Just 'KK'. And dead werewolves. Can't forget them. "Kennedy. Hence the 'KK'," Harper observes wittily. Or tipsy-obvious. "You're going to land on your feet, Katherine. I have a sense for these things." Is that supposed to be encouraging? Harper takes another sip from her glass.

Itzhak half-grins crookedly and fondly at Joe, leaning on the bar with an elbow. Long, lanky dude. "How's you doin', Cavanaugh. I don't know 'em, actually." He upnods to Katherine. "What brings you to town?" Harper's statement that he's a marvelous musician gets a sudden bloom of a blush over his face and a smile for her. He reaches over to shake her hand, not nearly so much of a reach for his dang long arm. His fingers are looooong and calloused, his knuckles inked. "Winterfest! That's where I saw you. Hey, thanks. I'm really a violinist, but you get mandolin along with violin, so I do that too. It's tricky to sing while you're playing a fiddle, not that I can't do it, but I usually do it backup singing, this band's the first one I ever been in where I'm the lead singer..." he trails off, realizing he's bending everybody's ear. "Anyway, thanks. Nice to meet ya both."

"'s longer'n I've been here, I only got here a li'l before Christmas," Joe says, proffering his hand to her. "Pleasure to meet you, too, Miss Kennedy." To Harper, he smiles, "Fair enough. Harper's a good name. And exactly." An approving look bestowed on Harper. "Isn't he?" he agrees, fondly. As if he had anything to do with it.

When Harper mentions her landing on her feet, Katherine says, “I hope so. I want Wayne to know that he matters to me. I gave everything back to Easton including this.” And she pulls up another picture that just happens to be on her phone. It’s a picture of her hand with a diamond ring on it, an engagement ring. She doesn’t offer any word of an explanation, as to not be overheard. She hands the phone to Harper again as she addresses the men nearby.

Rather than to mention the previous encounter, Katherine replies with solid handshake, “The pleasure is mine, Mr Cavanaugh.”

Itzhak also gets a handshake. “Came here for work, staying for ... well, staying to see if things work out in the romance department.” She smiles, getting more friendly as the drinking continues.

Unapologetically, Harper watches the interchange between the two men who've sidled up to the bar not too far away. Then she has the delightful opportunity to see the full flow and ebb of an Itzhak blush. She patiently takes another sip of her drink while enjoying the sight. His hand, too, is grasped for a moment or two. "How in the -- you recognize me from that crowd of crazy? That's another, entirely separate, impressive talent, though I'm not sure if I'd call it a blessing or a curse." She adds succinctly, "For you." Her ready smile warms once again. "I know I'm benefitting from it. You do all the -lins, I hear that. Do you have any future performance dates set? Because you and your band were on fire. I'd very much like to see that again." There might be the faintest hint of fan-girling from Harper. But largely in the sense that she genuinely enjoyed the performance. "And you." Nice to meet you.

"Since Christmas? Are you saying you were a Solstice miracle, Joe? Because I'll drink to that." She toasts him and finishes off her own beverage. Back to Katherine, Harper announces, "You send Wayne to me. I'll tell him how stridently you want to pursue his attentions." Harper sits back down on her stool with a bump and regards the engagement ring, taking the phone since it's summarily dropped into her hand. "Well, there's a reason I'm allergic to engagements." This is spoken lower under her breath. "If Geoff weren't playing eight-ball over there, he'd say something about seizing something, going with the moment, pursuing your heart's desire because there's no moment like this one. But I'm not Geoff." Harper's now adding the obvious to her commentary. She shakes her head with a rueful smile, "Romance in Gray Harbor. It's bound to bite you when you least expect it. So don't give up just yet, Katherine. Trust me on this." She offers back the phone.

Joe approving and Harper continuing to go on about his talent has Itzhak blushing to warm up the entire bar. "Nah," he says, laughing, waving off all those compliments, "I'm terrible at facial recognition. It's ya voice. I recognize voices. Everybody's got their own cadence, yannow?" His own is blatantly New York Jewish as chocolate egg creams from Russ & Daughters. "Yours is real, you know. Pretty. Uh," he rubs the tip of that frankly enormous beak of his, selfconsciously, "we're workin' on some dates." The bartender rescues him by depositing his drink, and he picks it up gratefully. "Anyway, what's it youse guys do?"

The idea of any romance being sufficient cause for dealing with Gray Harbor....Joe goes faintly pokerfaced at the idea, in that way he has. "Best of luck with it," he says, as warmly as he can manage.

Watching Harper fangirl a little with Itz makes him grin again, though. He doesn't second her request, but it's clear in the look he gives the musician that he agrees. Her question about him being a Solstice miracle has him all but choking on the drink he's just picked up again - getting enough down the wrong pipe that he has to thump himself on the chest. "I don't think my arrival here counts as miraculous," he tells her, after a whoop to get air flowing again the right way. Her comment about how romance in Gray Harbor bites unexpectedly has him looking positively puckish, for a moment, blue eyes bright. He pointedly doesn't look at Itzhak.

It’s definitely the alcohol kicking in but Harper gets a genuine albeit drunk smile from Katherine. It feels nice to have someone on your side. She definitely feels like Gray Harbor could be home for the first time. “Don’t spread that around, not sure how many people he’s told, but I don’t want him to think I’m telling people to get back at him. If he wants to share that part of our history, he can share it himself.”

“I’m a lawyer. Corporate Law. I either draft contracts, facilate mergers or negotiate during acquisition deals. It’s real boring stuff. I also run and drink a lot of coffee. Not really that interesting.” She explains this for Itzhak and Joseph’s benefit as well as Harper’s.

And isn't Itzhak just the brand of delicious that makes a librarian feel compelled to continue liberal application of (genuine) praise? "My voice," Harper repeats back at the New Yorker. From that crowd? "That's ..." She shakes her head and on this singular occasion is unable to come up with an adequate descriptor. "I suppose this is where I note what lovely compliments you pay, Mr. Rosencrantz." There's not an ounce of artifice to the words. Working on dates. That's Harper's cue to let the topic go. She looks back to her glass and traces a fingertip idly around the rim. "I work at the library," she understates just a little. She then casts a sidelong look up at Joe, perhaps because of a bit of stretching silence from the man. And isn't that muted expression one to contemplate? The choking response to her quip draws Harper's warm laughter to the fore once more. "You don't count, Joe," Harper replies drolly. He doesn't get a say in whether he's a miracle, tongue-in-cheek or not. Puckish brightness noted.

Harper would object to being warned off spreading talk of Katherine's feelings for Wayne, but ... she does know quite a few people. So she nods, twice, as solemnly as she can while tipsy. "I promise to leave your history be, what slivers of it you've shared, at least." The rest? The parts she doesn't know? They're fair game. Katherine answers Itzhak's question. She listens. Listening is one of her Things.

Itzhak laughs out loud as Joe tries to breathe his drink. Oh, he's still beet-red, but hey, now somebody else gets to share the torment! "I dunno, you're a little miraculous," he says to him, grinning sly. Then Joe is pointedly not looking at him, with that puckish expression, and he has to pretend he's really interested in his own drink. Look, Cuba Libre! So much lime, that's the best part. "Eh, boring, but necessary, and I bet you get paid real well," he says to Katherine. Harper has more to say about him and his compliments and he tries to scrub the blush off his cheek, naturally without success. "Library, huh? I keep meaning to swing by there."

There's a quizzical little tilt to Joe's brows at that. "No?" he asks, mildly, clearly teasing. "Fair enough. I know the Vatican has a whole committee to investigate miracles, I suppose they haven't gotten around to me, yet," he retorts.

A glance at Katherine. "But do you like your work?" he wonders, mildly. "Anything can be interesting from the right perspective." A shrug, as he takes a more discreet sip of his own. "Me, I'm retired from the Navy." He's doing it again.

“It’s the only thing in my life I am 100% sure is going well, and I do love my work.” Katherine responds to Joe but doesn’t mention getting paid. It’s the least important part of the converasation.

After checking her phone, she looks around and says, “I have some place to be tonight. And I’m just about intoxicated enough to go for it. I have a ride coming for me.”

Turning to Harper, she offers a business card with her personal number hand written on it. “Let’s hang again soon.”

Turning towards Joe and Itzhak, Katherine nods and says, “Pleasure to meet you, gentlemen.”

And she settles her tab, getting ready to leave.

Harper's smile turns to full out, starry-eyed beam as Itzak agrees with her. A little. There might be the faintest hint of I-told-you-so to read on her expressive features, probably completely overlooked due to the second, non-verbal conversation between the two, interesting men. As for Katherine getting paid well, Harper nods sagely as if she hadn't herself just made the woman's acquaintance this evening. "She has money to burn," she relays with all the hyperbole required for such a statement, however directly it was quoted. Itzhak means to swing by the library? "By all means, Rosencrantz," apparently she's dropping the 'mister' now. "Swing by."

"Oh no. No no," Harper replies to Joe's self-certain statement. "Not a Christian miracle. A humanist miracle. Or, I suppose since we were speaking of a pagan occasion, you could call it a pagan miracle, if you prefer."

Katherine prepares to leave. "Definitely go for it, Katherine. And forgive. You'll feel like a new person. I guarantee it." As for getting a ride. "Be safe. Thanks for the drinks." She takes the business card between slightly damp finger and thumb and tucks it into the chest pocket of her jean jacket.

Itzhak upnods to Katherine. "Pleasure. See ya." His blush is finally fading off, and he flashes a crooked half-grin at Harper when she calls him by his last name alone. "Cavanaugh and me like to read." Then Harper's turning her merciless charm on Joe, and Itzhak looks at Joe with a hell of an amused expression. "He is retired from the navy, but why don'tcha tell her the rest of it, Yossil?" A funny word, that, a Yiddish nickname.

None of the callsigns he was ever granted tickles him so much as that nickname. There's an amused glint from him, at that. He hasn't asked about it, yet, but surely it's coming. "A pagan miracle. I like that. I'm more pagan than Catholic now as it is," he allows, tone musing.

A little wave for the departing Katherine.....and then he's giving Itz a sheepish look. "Ah, uh," he says. "I, ah....worked for NASA," he goes on, like a shy child being prompted by a doting parent. "For a while. And.....went to space." He's giving Harper a sidelong look, like he's sure she won't believe him. Apparently he doesn't intend to use the A word.

Harper leans in, turning her body and resting her chin on her knuckles, elbow on the bar as she regards the two men at once. Itzhak's half-grin is contagious, bringing the librarian's easy, affable smile to the fore once again. "Is that so? As in a collective undertaking? Fascinating. And what, praytell, do you read?" Because even a tipsy librarian must know these things. There's likely some personality assessment that takes place with the answer to the question, though she looks thoroughly relaxed right now. "The navy. Yes, I absoutely think you should tell me the rest of it. Carpe historia vitae, navy Joe." Harper leans into the bar that her elbow rests upon. NASA. Her eyes widen. "You went to space. Space of the outer variety?" When Harper settles upon listening, be it tipsy or sober, she suspends judgment. It makes her either empathetic as hell, or incredibly gullible. It all depends how you look at it. Either way, the story's the thing.

"Oh yeah. Collective," Itzhak agrees, hoisting his eyebrows at Harper, saucily. "Man, what don't we read." But he lets her discover that wonderful thing about Joe, and his smile is real. "He's shy about it," he murmurs, tipping his drink up (and careful so he doesn't plunge that schnozz into it).

Books are a safer subject. "All kinna things," Joe enthuses. "Science fiction, science, history. Hell, I like a good Western, when I can find one. Historical fiction of all kinds," Then he nods, apparently wholly sincere. "Yeah. Two shuttle missions, one ISS expedition." But then, in the age of Google, that story's easily verified. "See, when you go into NASA from the military, you're still considered part of whatever service branch you came in from. I was a naval aviator - figured I'd do it Right Stuff style, you know, and it worked out that way."

Another roll of laughter escapes past Harper's lips at the eyebrow antics of the musician. "When you put it that way, Rosencrantz," Harper begins, but then simply allows the suggestion to trail off. "Shy. Humble. Modest. A rare gem of a man," she may be agreeing. "But I am neither shy nor polite. You must tell me more. A story, perhaps?" Harper holds two fingers up in the air not so far apart. "Just a little one." No, no. Nope. He's not going to distract the librarian with book genres when there's... ah, yes. There it is. "ISS?" she asks with letter sounds flowing into each other just a bit. The Right Stuff. Yum. "I'll bet you walk in slow motion with a heroic glint in your eyes, helmet at your hip fantastically well." Is she teasing? It might be hard to tell at this point. Playful, most certainly.

Itzhak grins outright at Harper, pleased that they can jointly tease Joe. "S'right. A gem. Space station," he adds, for clarification--then he laughs in real delight as she spins the image of Joe walking in slow motion. "You got it," he tells her, "heroic glint 'n all."

Joe, foolishly, had another mouthful of Jack and Coke in the meanwhile. Which he nearly spit-takes - he turns away swiftly, manages to confine it to another choking fit. Her comment leaves him bent double and wheezing with laughter. "That has to be one of the best responses I've ever gotten to someone finding out about my old job. You'd think that'd be the equivalent of our catwalk turn to see if we win the crown, right? See how cool we look when we walk out to the launch pad."

He's red with laughter, still, eyes alight.

It's just as Itzhak has reached delight on the scale and Joe bursts into yet another fit of choking laughter that Geoff catches Harper's eye from across the bar, points to his phone and gestures something indecipherable -- though with that roguish grin of his -- to anyone but Harper. "Gentlemen," she offers, still smiling as she half slips off her barstool. "We must do this again sometime. And soon. I am bookmarking this conversation." She is tipsy enough that a salaam of departure doesn't seem at all ridiculous, which it very much is. "Joe. Rosencrantz. Good night to you both." For the most part she walks a straight line over to where Geoff has already opened the door for her to walk out under his arm before he lets it close behind them. Off into the ambitious mist. There might even be a query about the beach.

Itzhak toasts Harper's salaam, raising his glass to her as he slouches back against the bar. He doesn't even know that Geoff is Easton's long-suffering husband. "See ya around, yeah?" Then he's grinning at Joe, and shoulders him. "Librarians. Whaddyagonna do?"

"They're always the most interesting people," Joe says, fondly. "What a fireball. I'm gonna have to share that helmet walk joke with some of the guys I used to work with, they'll bust a gut. Man, you ever seen that movie? Though it was the book that got me, first. I actually read it 'cause I knew the movie was coming out. Stayed up all night to do it." He shoulders Itz back.

"Actually I haven't. Seen Apollo 13, though." Itzhak, well pleased with tonight's random encounters, drinks to that. Then he glances aside at Joe, expression going curious. "You doing okay?"

The look Joe gives him is positively accusing. "What?" he demands, sounding almost indignant. "You've never seen The Right Stuff? We gonna fix that." Like it's a matter of enormous import. A beat, and he says, quietly, "Yeah. Just gotta make a few things clear, that's all."

Itzhak snorts, taken off guard by Joe's indignance. "Oh boy, here it comes, the part where you make me watch the movies you can't believe I haven't seen. Listen, pal, if you make me watch movies, I make you listen to music, that's the deal." The beat passes, and he studies Joe for a moment, eyebrows canted, eyelids hooded. Then he sniffs, murmurs, "A'ight," and drinks.

"It's required," Joe affirms, after snagging his drink again. "And yeah. I'd like that. I hate feeling like one of those old guys who does nothin' but listen to the music of his youth. I'm always lookin' for somethin' new. I'd be interested to hear what you wanna share with me. And my taste in movies is good," he adds. Ah, a hint of the old, dazzling arrogance. He pats Itz on the arm, finally reclaims his seat at the bar.

"Cajun. Cajun first, le musique acadienne. I'll play it for ya. Better than a recording. Maybe some zydeco, too." Itzhak considers, weighing what he's going to assault Joe with first. "That's what my band did, in New York. We were called L'Esperance. Means hope. Cajun folk punk. Man, the shows we did, and the afterparties, whew." Nostalgia makes him smile. "Okay, I'll let you show me the damn movie, but you gotta listen to my stuff first."

"It's a deal," Joe says, lifting his glass in salute to seal it. He seems pleased at the idea. Someone new to inflict his movies on. There's a reason Ruiz can recite Blade Runner by heart, after all. Now there's another willing victim.