2021-12-02 - Mail Call

Move address and you can be certain that for a month or three, your mail will get delivered to your previous home, or to the home next to your new home, or to a guy in Lancastershire, England, who will then proceed to line his pigeon cages with it, unopened. Move addresses in December, and you should be grateful if your mail makes it to the right continent even once before Easter.

At least that's what Ravn Abildgaard is thinking as he crosses Oak Avenue to knock on the door of Granny Leigh, a couple of envelopes in one gloved hand. One is carefully decorated by a very young artist, with stick figures representing Mommy, Daddy, Granny and Tom -- the latter appears to be some kind of dog. A couple are addressed in neat cursive, unlike the scrawl that most younger people settle for, doing most of their writing on a keyboard. All of them are addressed to Gail Leigh in some capacity or other, and all of them were delivered to the wrong house.

Nothing says 'little old grandma lives here' like Aidan Kinney's old rust bucket of a van parked out in front, after all.

The Dane contemplates just plopping the envelopes in the mail box but then decides to ring the doorbell. It's polite, isn't it? Yes. Polite is good. Let's do more of that, 'tis the season.

Ring the doorbell, get a granny! Gail swings the doorway open with a bit too much cheer, a smile causing her winkles to show even more predominantly than they do when her face is still.

"What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in." No asking what brought the neighbor over - in is the direction for Ravn to come. "How are you and your partner doing? I am sad I have yet to do more than wave from across the street. I am of two minds to simply come a-knocking but the poor thing," yes, Aiden, "seems so busy."

Then we have our most amazing, fascinating, newest Leigh... Gabriella. Sometimes, she's up and running before dawn. Sometimes, she's rolling out of bed at noon. There are a slew of other things between those times too. It's always a new and unusual experience at the Gabby Show.

Today, we find the blonde roused out by the sound of the bell a ringing. A suspicious look towards that door and her smile curves upwards much like that of her granny. Oh, but if they were the same age, they'd be twins. Moreover, as the only genetic profile that Gabriella can be sure of is that of the Leigh side. There were embarrassing moments of 'are you my daddy' earlier in her life. Her green eyes flick to the mail in his hand.

"Did you draw those for us? Should I be offended that I'm not in them?"

Her lips curve up as she leans against the hallway wall to study the two before her. "Gran, did you know that Ravn asked me out on a date?" The twinkle in her eyes give away the falsehood of that statement. "It's May 30th, 2021. I can barely contain myself." Then she looks the man over, "Have you eaten yet?"

The expression on Ravn's face is best described as 'contained'. As in, he's screaming on the inside but he's got the ability to suppress it and make it stay on the inside; such a polite mask. "Oh, Aidan and I are not partners," he says with a small, mildly strained smile. "Neither in a business context nor in a romantic context. He has a girlfriend -- but she lives in England, so sharing a place with someone else to cut down on rent and household chores makes sense for him. And for me -- since I live on a boat half of the year anyhow, and really only need a place to sleep in winter and to keep my books."

He surrenders the mail, child drawings and all. "I think they were delivered to the wrong door. And someone likes his or her puppy very much."

Did he not hear the line about a date? Selective hearing, it's a life saver. "I would not say no to a cup of coffee," he adds with a smile that seems entirely less forced.

Oh poor Ravn. Gail sakes her head at his very obvious - to her - agony. The letters get taken and she says mildly, "Pardon me, " Gabby has all the room she could ever want to be extravagant. Gail is looking over her letter with utmost fondness. "Tommy is such a sweet one. He writes he is sad I won't be there for Christmas and hopes Santa knows my new address." Everyone needed to know what Tommy wrote, right.

But then there is coffee being mentioned and she snaps back into hostess mode. "Dear me, yes yes, come." Provided no one puts up a fight all three of them will be swept into the kitchen where she can busy herself at the coffee pot. "How do you like yours?" She asks, the implements of coffee favoring shown.

There is a moment of debate. How does she react to this obvious ignoring of her dreams of a date? It's in his phone! She set it as a reminder. May 30th shall be the day he hands over his heart, or if he forgets to delete it the day his romantic partner stabs him in it. One way or the other... legendary.

It's a hidden secret that only Gabby's demeanor is playgirl bad ass, the truth is that she's sweet as southern honey. So this wins out. Regretfully. Her smile becomes that sweet side as she look at Ravn with an adorableness that just can't be matched. "We don't want to return you to the world without coffee. That would make us the talk of the town. They would be like, did you hear about those Leigh women? They just turned away that poor darling of a man without drink. Then there would be the ringing of the shame bell." She reaches out to touch him and stops. Her finger tips hovering just before touch and then she retracts her hand.

"Come to the table." There is a pause. Then she drops the best thing she can to get her way.

"We have cookies."

"Like my wardrobe," Ravn says with a smile. "Black, no frills."

He lets himself be guided in to the kitchen. The whole being neighbourly thing is new to him -- but it's also exactly the kind of community building behaviour that he keeps preaching to others, and he'll bloody well learn to like it because it comes with the territory; hoist by his own petard, indeed. And the glance that Gabriella earns when she reaches out and then doesn't touch conveys a considerable amount of silent thanks.

"How is settling in going?" The question is directed at both women; settling into Gray Harbor, and settling in with each other. "Gray Harbor's not quite Seattle or Portland. It must feel very small to you, Gabriella."

And to anyone else, Ravn. Except people from your weird miniput country where there are only five cities with populations over 80,000.

Ravn and Gabriella are settled in the living room, with a direct look that threatens the use of a middle name if they dare to to the kitchen with her, before she heads to the kitchen.

Gail bustles- milk, cookies, all of these things must be gathered. Bustle bustle bustle.

Gabriella moves over with Ravn to smile in a sunny manner. "I have to sneak into the kitchen to cook when she's out visiting people. I'm telling you, I learned to cook just so I wouldn't be allowed to do it." Her words are just coated with her affection for her grandmother though. She still doesn't touch Ravn (this time). "So what are your plans for the day?"

Ravn settles on the appointed sofa, resting one gloved hand on a knee and looking somewhat out of place -- a humanoid patch of black in an ocean of flowers and floral patterns and pastels. "I like to keep it simple," he replies and for some reason his eyes sparkle with amusement. "I always get up planning to deal with whatever work has turned up in my inbox over night, talk to a couple of students via Zoom, go down to the community centre and deal with whatever's on my desk there, and at some point, go home and feed my cat before going to bed."

The smile widens a bit, amused. "What usually happens, though, is more along the lines of deal with some insane dream experience, listen to someone's love trouble, talk to a paralegal in Seattle about that girl who has no passport and doesn't speak English or Spanish, or finding a body in somebody's basement. Did Granny Leigh tell you that this town is never quite predictable?"

Granny's cookies are the kind that make doctor's and dieticians cry. Full of all the fats they don't want people to eat - they are delicious okay? Soft and dunkable. She comes back with a plate of cookies and two cups of milk for the pair of then. This gets offered up.

"Predictable is a bit boring love." Gail clucks in admonishment. "Isn't it much better to do? Don't forget your napkin." Said to both of them as she holds out the flower embroidered terry-cloths.

Gabriella laughs easily and without an ounce of uncertainty to it. She knows who she is in her laughter. "Wait.. what do you do?" Her eyes move to Ravn as she tries to recall if she's ever asked him that. However, interest fills her eyes as she listens to the other parts. "I don't know if we ever talked about this, but I'm a psychologist. All the school, none of the medications that I can dish out. I'd be happy to consult on those issues. The non-dream ones. The dream ones I probably am horrible about."

There is a smile to the familiarity of Granny's cookies. It's almost like people can watch the various layers and walls that surround Gabby on a daily start to melt away as she's back in her grandmother's presence. Probably the only place of security and stability her life has had. "I agree. Although, there is something to be said about knowing what to expect from people as well."

"I'm a tutor for Copenhagen U," Ravn replies and looks at a cookie like it might be on a mission to ruin his diet, not that he's on one in the first place. "I work with Afghanistan vets -- help them get a degree, settle back into life. It's rough for some of them -- I don't need to tell you what a steaming pile of crap PTSD can be, if you're a psychologist. They do remote teaching because a lot of these guys definitely aren't up to heading into town and attending classes at specific hours -- so it doesn't really matter if I'm on the other side of the planet."

Must pay pretty well for him to be able to afford to be, though. "Outside of that? I do some of the paperwork and every day coordination for the HOPE community centre. That's where the paralegal and the dream experiences tend to come in."

Know what the best job in the world is? Retired granny. Gail five star recommends. With the cookies given out she moves towards 'her' chair - one of those floral armchairs that is just perfectly contoured to her buttocks. There's a deep sigh as she settles - her body is older, no matter how much she pretends that she isn't.

"Do you need anything for your center dear?" Gail offers, and god help Ravn if he accepts. They'll have fresh treats daily then. And yes, Gabby will be looped in to make and then deliver them.

Gabriella is next to Ravn but not touching him. Repeat NOT touching him. Her feet are curled up behind her as she listens to him and then to Gail. Her head tips to the side in thought and in interest.

"I'd be happy to assist. I'm not currently working." Gabby is going to have to find somewhere and do something. FOR REASONS she has not yet. That reason may be a granny that loves and adores her. It should be noted that THIS Gabby who is content and secure in her environment is different. She's not being a man/woman eater. She's calm. She's also smiling way more. "I know that it can be intimidating to speak to a therapist or even to get in with one. The VA is good for a lot of things, but they fail most of the people by the red tape they make them go through. I can't write scripts, but I could do talk therapy and help work out some coping skills."

"Wouldn't turn either offer down," Ravn replies, smiling a little at both, in his usual lopsided way. "It's that kind of place -- not a charity run by an organisation. A community centre. Which means, we offer whatever the community wants to offer, to the community. Sometimes it's therapy and self-help groups borrowing rooms and facilities. We have paint courses, for parents and small kids. Job application training for people who struggle to find employment. There are no rules -- we take what we can get, and give it to whoever needs it. No one person is in charge, either, though I tend to be the guy who ends up sorting out dates and bills."

Talking about this, at least, he seems confident. This is something the Dane is good at -- keeping that little place running. If there is such a thing as someone having found their odd little niche, this is probably it.

It's Gail's PLACE. It just has this feel of comfort and love. Everything here has a happy memory attached to it. Even when tempered with the bittersweet tang of loss there's something comforting about it. This is a mentalist's haven if they choose to exist in it. If someone asks her right out she'll cop to that being exactly what she's doing, and if not, well, it's peaceful anyway.

"Then we can do that." The HOPE centre (to borrow Ravn's spelling, hopefully he's trained google maps with both spellings or the poor Americans will be constantly lost). "If Gabby is going to run groups," yes, Gail's just gonna take it as a given that her granddaughter will be donating her time and expertise, "she can just bring them over with her."

Gabriella nods her head to that. "Of course, I'd be happy to assist with all of those things. I'll need you to show me where this building is and maybe give me a tour of it." She reaches for another cookie and curls up into her corner. "It's only neighborly to look at your community and assist how you can. Or so, I've heard."

Usually in mocking tones until her mother straightened herself out. Then those eyes move to Gail. They hold there and she looks towards Ravn. See? It's so sweet. It's so good here. "I was thinking of how you don't like to be touched." Which are the first words of what is about to be a super personal question. "Are you demi sexual?" In front of her granny. Yep.

Ravn blinks. People ask him a lot of weird questions. Usually it's about the gloves, or why he lives on a boat half the year, or why a guy would end up living here instead of in his home country, or in a few cases, even why the hell he's slumming it. This question, on the other hand, he's only been asked once before, and he knew that guy for quite some time first.

Still, as questions go, it's a fair one and he's not embarrassed by it as much as just surprised. "I suppose that's as good a term as any. Might also just say I like my life the way it is and I am not really looking very hard to add complications to it. Either works."

See that comment just fllllyyyyy right over Gail's head. This is not a phrase she's heard before and so she can't even be scandalized by it. Sorry Gabriella. Maybe if Ravn had reacted more strongly she would have her own strong opinion.

Instead, "Demi sexual? Is that one of those new positions the kids talk about?" Said in the absolute most innocent granny voice ever.

Gabriella cants her head to study Ravn. This is becoming more and more in her therapist mind to want to analyze him. However, she just takes the cookie back up. That's right Ravn can explain the term to the old, sweet, pure granny. Also, Gabby offers, "No, no.. you see he's into the Dirty Sanchez and I'm just not down."

Another blink Gabriella's way. Then the folklorist hitches a shoulder and chuckles. All right then -- if it's normal for the Leighs to discuss their sex lives around the senior members of the family, why not? He had a grandfather who wouldn't shut up about the girls in Berlin and what they'd do for a handout in 1946. "It means I am not very interested in girls unless they are already my friends," he tells Gail in a matter-of-factly tone. "Which is why I am not rushing to date Gabriella, much to her apparent consternation."

And then an interested glance Gabriella's way. "So, what do you do exactly with your dirty Spaniard?"

"I thought your partner was a Kinney?" Gail replies, puzzled, her eyebrows pulled together under her glasses. "Have I met this Sanchez?" She's pretty sure that she hasn't.

And because she's so concerned: "Does he need a place to take a bath?"

Gabriella is silent for a moment. There might be a damn you, Ravn. However, she looks towards Gail. "Javier de la Vega. When you see him next, ask him. Let him know I sent you to ask the question. I'd hate to .. insult a lifestyle by not explaining it well." She's not even sorry Ruiz.

"I'm not consternated." Gabby offers. Is that even a word? "I just think you should want to. I'm pretty amazing."

"Room mate," Ravn murmurs with mild, but amused exasperation. "Aidan Kinney is my room mate. Not my partner. He has a girlfriend. She lives in England. That is why it made sense for two more-or-less bachelors to get a place together."

Then he blinks. Again. "Wait, what, you thought I am in a relationship with the Chief of Police? What the bloody hell gave you that idea?"

Gail just sits with a tiny polite granny smile on her face. No one answered if someone needs a bath.

Gabriella looks at Ravn. "No, I assumed you were single." FORESHADOWING!!! So much foreshadowing.

"I meant, Grandma. Ask the Chief of Police about the Dirty Sanchez. Let him know I said he should explain the story." Her eyes get so big and sad. "It's so sorrowful. Really."

"I have no idea what a dirty Sanchez is supposed to be," Ravn observes. "I am not entirely convinced I wish to remedy this. I am in a very happy relationship. With a mother of three, named Kitty, and an older lady, named Lola Bianca. One is a cat, and the other is a motorcycle. That, as far as I am concerned, is the state of my current relationship, and I am not really looking to make dramatic changes to this status quo, either."

Gail continues blinking slowly and steadily. Yes, she absolutely understands what is going on right now.

But then okay, old timer trick,

CONVERSATION CHANGE.

"What are your plans for Christmas dear?"

Gabriella pauses. There is a look that crosses her features. "You are involved with a lady named Kitty and you have three kids?" There is a tip of her head as she looks back to her Grandmother. She really wishes she had a drink right now.

Ravn smirks. "Yes. And like I just said, she is a cat. A small, black cat who is cheating on me with your grandmother whose cooking by far outshines what she can get from Aidan and I."

He leans back, curling his gloved hands around his coffee cup and cants his head, looking at Gail. "I haven't actually made plans yet. I don't have any close living relatives. Last year I spent Christmas in Copenhagen, dealing with some legal issues and then playing tour guide in my home town, to a friend. This year? I have honestly not thought that far ahead."

"She is just the sweetest thing, her and those babies." Gail enthuses. She pushes herself up out of her chair with a bit of effort, her hands clapping together. At some point they ate the cookies and milk, right? Which means that Gail can start gathering up the cups and plates as a good hostess should.

"Well you know you are welcome here for breakfast, and any of your friends. Having Gabby about will be a balm, I'm afraid I'm quite use to a bustling house for the Holidays."

It's an invitation and not an order - mostly.....