2020-07-03 - New Yorkers Going French

Just a regular morning. The Firestation isn't open for breakfast, but the Waffle Shoppe is! Faith is seated at the bar like counter with the seats lined in front of it and she's looking over the menu. There's at least a glass of some sort of juice in front of her and some coffee thing. It's certainly coffee but it's almost white in color. There's steam so at least it's hot! Also, there's a folded newspaper that looks to be turned towards the advice column.

Rick steps in, moving rather slowly as he glances around. Moving over to find a place at the counter as well. There's a brief nod offered to Faith, before he turns his attention to the menu.

Since the Firehouse offers discounts to firefighters and policemen, perhaps Faith had seen Rick around there. She certainly wasn't a local, having grown up in New York, upper class, but she looked comfortable looking over the menu. Hearing the new arrival approaching, she glances up with a warm smile in her eyes. "Hi," she greets, the warmth seeping into her voice as well. "What would you recommend?" Lifting the menu a little to indicate it.

Rick offers a brief smile as he hears the greeting, before the question makes him pause for a few moments. "You know, I've never been good at recommending things from a menu,," he admits, a bit quietly, before he smiles, "But it would depend on what you're looking for, I think. I was planning on some of that french toast myself," he offers.

"French toast.. hmm. Not the obvious waffles from the Waffle Shoppe. You're a rebel, sir. I like that in a person." Her lips curve in a smile again as she faces him more fully. "Do you like to color outside of the lines too?" Just teasing him a bit, propping a forearm on the counter/bar as her swivel chair is turned more towards him. "French toast it is. Bacon or sausage?"

"Hey, if people only eat the waffles here, there'll never be any other options available, right?" Rick replies with a chuckle. "As for coloring outside the lines, who knows?" It's offered with a shrug and a grin, before he smiles, "I tend to prefer it with bacon," he offers.

"Done and done." And so the order goes, french toast and bacon, plenty of powdered sugar. Faith reaches for her glass of juice and takes a sip before replacing it on the table. Her hand is then offered over. "I think I've seen you around town, but not sure we've ever been properly introduced. I'm Faith Kensington. You may know my twin Grace, at the Firehouse?" They are identical anyway. "Besides," she grins. "I like options. Especially when it comes to food."

Rick smiles, placing a similar order. "Faith and Grace? It sounds like a theme in the names," he offers a bit lightly, before he smiles. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Rick, Rick Carlson."

"If only you knew our middle names too," Faith rolls her eyes playfully. "I think our parents were hippies in a previous life." The juice is lifted again and she sips before tilting her head and regarding him. "It's nice to meet you, Rick Carlson. Can I call you Ricky?" That same playful look in her eyes.

Rick raises an eyebrow as he hears that, offering her another smile. "Oh, what are the middle names, then?" he asks, sounding a little curious. As a large cup of coffee is placed in front of him, he smiles a thanks to the person placing it there, and takes a sip. "Sure," he replies to that question, offering Faith another smile now.

"Grace Joy and Faith Hope. I feel sort of hippie myself. Or Christmas-y?" Light laughter follows her words as the food is delivered and she certainly looks pleased at the order. "Mmm, I'm hungry. This looks and smells great." Her smile inches up, "I like Ricky. It's a great name. You can call me anything you want too."

"Maybe sort of hippie, but quite nice," Rick replies, taking another sip from his coffee. "So, Faith. Are you from around here, or are you one of those of us that's been drawn here from other parts of the country?" Smiling as his own food is delivered.

"I'm from New York originally. I like it there a lot, but I was.. yeah, one of those drawn here. At first for my family, my grandparents live here, they really own the Firehouse. I just work there as a cook." Tilting her head as she cuts into the toast, Faith hesitates a moment and asks. "Where are you from originally?"

Rick smiles, "You're from New York? That makes it two of us. I grew up there, then worked there for a nummber of years before... stuff happened," he offers. "So, to keep a long story short, I ended up here."

Faith is interested in what else he's not saying, so while she eats she intersperses with questions. "You are from there too? Then you know about the New York Kensingtons? From SoHo? 10 Sullivan." It's a very posh, cushy part of the city for sure. She realizes she sounds like a snob so she smiles at him again with warmth. "What brought you? What stuff happened? Have you got family or friends here?"

"Are those your family?" Rick asks about the New York Kensingtons, before he smiles. "I've been to that area every now ans then, work related. As for family, there's not much left of that anymore. Got some friends here, though."

"You chose here because of your friends?" The question asked between bites and Faith bobs her head, "My parents. They are amazing parents." So again she asks, "What brings you here to Gray Harbor?"

Rick shakes his head a little. "No, I didn't know anyone here when I arrived. I had spent the last while going from town to town, and this place... just seemed like a good enough place to settle down for now." A brief pause, as he eats some of his food. "It sounds a bit strange, I know..."

"I guess a little strange, but I guess everyone has their reasons. You should stop by and see me sometime at the Firehouse. If you don't see me, just ask one of the wait staff to get me either from the kitchen or the loft above it. That's where I live now. It'd be nice to talk more about New York and all with someone other than my sister." Faith smiles and goes about finishing her food. "Here," she gives him a card with her name on it and the Firehouse, with their slogan of We Smoke the Good Stuff.