2021-12-05 - Once Upon A Late Night Dreary

It's a Saturday night in a small town so of course the bar is busy, even with it being winter. Bennie isn't officially an employee, but she helps out when she can. Tonight is no different, filling in for a bar back who called out sick and so she's lugging a dish tub back towards the kitchen full of pint glasses and baskets of mostly polished off tots. Her unnaturally stick straight hair is pulled back into a severe pony tail, and she's dressed like she belongs in a French smoke-filled beatnik club with her black turtleneck and matching capri pants.

In waddles Eleanor Roen. She's looking fully pregnant these days, having hit the six-month mark. Three more to go. The redhead looks tired, and ravenous, as she shoulders her way in, bundled up in her winter coat, leggings, and large snow boots with earmuffs and mittens. She makes her way carefully to the bar and slides up, almost gracefully, onto a stool. Ok, she totally cheated and used her glimmer to haul herself up by her pants. Shhhh. Don't tell anyone. Mittens are yanked off with her teeth and shoved into her coat pocket, and the earmuffs get set on the bartop. She's in her glasses tonight, not up for putting in her contacts, or just had no desire to.

"Bennie!" she calls in greeting.

Well, you can't always sit alone drinking on a Saturday night, right? While he usually prefers to do that, Rick steps through the door a bit slowly, glancing around the room before he trudges over in the direction of the bar. He finds a stool not too far from where Eleanor placed herself, as he looks around the room again, a bit absently.

Henry Covington (Loggers '06) tumbles in from the cold like an autumn leaf on the gusting wind, face redding with the drop in temperature outside. He pauses just through the door (which, after the arrival of both Eleanor and Rick is letting in a LOT of cold air!) and blinks awkwardly against the light. Pulling the black beanie he wears from his head frees the unruly mass of his hair and he swipes it back with some irritation as he looks around. He's been to TiBs once before since his return to Gray Harbor, but it was during the day, just prior to Thanksgiving, and much quieter than this. For s split second it looks like he might turn around and leave. But, squaring his shoulders, he adopts a brave face and marches to the bar, taking up a spot next to Rick. "Hey," he greets. It's the super casual upnod of one guy to another he does not know, and soon his eyes are seeking out the bartender for an order.

Bennie swings the tub around to rest on one hip, freeing up a hand to snag a few shot glasses that clank together as they get all but tossed in with the rest of the dishes. "Eleanor. You look positively...pregnant. Easton and I used to joke that Isabella would end up with triplets. Sure we didn't accidentally pass that curse on to you?" Bennie and tact don't normally go together, at least she delivers it good-naturedly and with a smile but it's a few watts dimmer than her usual full beam. The bartender on duty will tend to everyone's orders, because the blonde EMT is on the bar's version of scut duty.

Joe comes sauntering in like he's received an engraved invitation. The limp's not as bad as it often is, at this time of year, and he doesn't use more than the usual care when he hitches himself up on to a stool. There's a pleasant nod for Bennie, and a raised hand for Eleanor. No comment on her pregnancy, though. The sailor's got that faintly thoughtful look that means it'll take a bigger measure of booze to have him yapping away than it generally does.

"I think she might have!" Eleanor laughs at Bennie's comment. "But no, there's just one little Roen spawn in my belly who takes particular joy in tapdancing on my bladder and demanding loaded tots from here. Can I get a big old order of those, and a hot cocoa?" she requests of the blonde with a broad smile. "Where's Easton tonight?" she asks.

She gives Rick a smile and a nod of hello since he's a cop and, well, she runs the town coffee shop. Then she squints past him at the guy who looks familiar, trying to place him. "I think I should probably know you," she comments. She likely knows his family. Then there's Joe.

"Hello, sailor, come have a seat and tell me some interesting tales. I've been holed up a lot and I've missed tons. It sucks to not be able to drink coffee, when you own the coffee shop."

Henry shoots Eleanor a rueful grin. "You probably don't know me, but I know you. When I was in eigth grade, Eleanor Lake was like...I dunno. Let's just say most of the boys I ran with would have cut off...things...to be in the same room with you." Realizing that might be slightly awkward, he coughs lightly and sticks out his hand, offering his best smile. "Henry Covington. Me and my siblings went to Teddy S. right after you." His gaze drops to her belly. "Also: congratulations."

Bennie realizes she must've lost track of where Easton is, as her brow furrows at herself but she manages a cheery, "Oh you know. Around." She doesn't make it so far as the kitchen, stepping behind the bar and sliding her tub up on a cooler before she needs to bend and stretch out her back by propping her elbows up on the bar and bowing her head. "Tots and cocoa coming right up." Even if she doesn't seem intent on moving all too quick to fulfill that order.

After ordering himself a beer, some kind of dark ale, Rick offers a nod and a smile to the others nearby. "Enjoying the weekend, I hope?" he offers, glancing between them. A look to Eleanor and her belly, as well as a brief smile. "Congratulations," he offers.

Eleanor blinks at Henry few times. "Your joking right? I was the awkward weirdo girl!" She laughs, then snapspoints at the name. "Henry! Did I babysit you or your siblings at some point? I feel like I might have. But I have pregnancy brain and I don't remember what I had for breakfast today." She chuckles at the congratulations. "Thank you though, August and I are very excited about the impending arrival. It's Eleanor Roen now. Didn't you go off to med school?" The hanging 'why the hell would you come back to crazytown?' is unspoken.

Bennie is beamed at. "Thank you! The little peanut thanks you too! It's really their order!"

Obligingly, Joe hitches his stool a bit closer to Eleanor. His poison of choice this evening is Irish coffee, it seems. He goes about shrugging out of his cold weather gear - that navy pea jacket, and the fingerless gloves in shades of ocean blue that match his knuckle tattoos. "Well, things've been relatively quiet for me and mine," he says, affably. "Got a book out of that whole lost time thing, in the middle of editing it. Tryin'a dodge my publisher wanting me to tour for it. Looks like you came out of all that better'n I did. Just one, huh? D'you know the sex?"

Waltzing on in from the cold the diminutive strawberry-blonde pads on up to the bar, scooting up a seat and dusting off her hands that 100% have soot and grease all over them, in fact her pretzel themed outfit all has a solid smattering of car residue across it. "Howdy." she smiles out, the dark spots smeared over her features not at all lowering her demeanor in the slightest as she waves over to the barkeep. "Hows it goin'?" she drawls out conversationally as she starts to consider what she wants to take the edge off of the auto work she's likely been up to earlier in the evening.

Bennie straightens back up and intrudes on Joseph and Eleanor's conversation, albeit mistakenly by saying, "Of course she knows about sex, how do you think she got herself knocked up?" She straightens, hand going to her lower back with a rueful rub and grimace. "Sure you don't want a double order, Ell?" She scribbles something on an order pad and folds it, setting it in a shot glass in front of Eleanor so she can keep track of people's tabs. She's sort of horrible about that and has vowed to do better about making the till match the inventory.

Eleanor shakes her head at Joe in the negative. "No, I wanted to be surprised. August might know, but if he does, I told him not to tell me. I mean, gender doesn't matter anyway. If my kid wants to play with Barbies or with toy trucks, I give zero damns what their genitals are." She smiles. "My folks will be in town for Christmas, and I suspect I will be spoiled rotten, over-protected, and babied to the point of insanity, so I figured I'd better get out and get my tots fix while I can." She grins. "My mother has been waiting a very long time to be a grandmother."

She smiles at Bennie. "How about one for here and one to go? They reheat pretty well."

Henry offers a polite nod, and a generous tip to the bartender, then takes the beer he ordered and hoists it in Eleanor's direction. "Congrats then on your wedding as well, Mrs. Roen." A smile dimples his face and he hides that smile behind a generous sip of his drink. "Ah, see...you may have been awkward to the boys in your class, but to the younger gents in my eighth grade class..." He laughs. It is slightly forced, given that he knows the unspoken question, and, most likely, has heard it spoken many times since his arrival back in town a few weeks ago. "Yeah. Um. Med school. Psychiatry. And now...I'm here at Addington Memorial." A helpless shrug. "If you never left...?" It's a question. "...Then it is a little hard to explain how one comes back to Gray Harbor."

Rick gets another nod and, at risk, a clink of Henry's glass to his. "So far so good. Henry. Nice to meetcha, man."

There's a brief pause as he listens to the others, then Rick offers a grin in return to Henry. "Rick," he introduces himself, offering a grin in return. "Nice to meet you." He takes a sip from his drink, before he pauses, "Psychiatry, you say?" He glances around, noticing the new arrival as well, offering her a nod in greeting.

"Sure, sure. Just make sure Auggie knows they're ear marked for the baby or I'll cut off his hand myself." Bennie moves out of the way of one of the actual bartenders who drops off the cup of hot cocoa for Eleanor because now her attention is solely on Henry after something he said. "Covington as in Doctor Covington?" It's a small town, Bennie should know all the other Townies, but it's like she's seeing the man for the first time but she seems completely star struck by the man across the bar as if he's some kind of celebrity.

"Hey there, Fae," Joe says. No glass yet, so he lifts a hand to her. He's set aside his coat and gloves, so he's sitting comfortably by Eleanor, dressed only in t-shirt and jeans, the former with an image of Aldrin standing on the lunar surface and the legend 'We Went To The Damn Moon, Y'all'.

Bennie's comment gets a snort. "That's not always the case. Many a woman's become a mother out of ignorance - American sex education is still fuckin' awful."

"Fair enough," he says to Eleanor. "I'm lucky in that all my siblings have married and bred, so my parents have enough grandkids so they're not breathin' down my neck on the subject."

Only then does he turn his attention to Henry, and adds himself to the introductions. "Joe Cavanaugh," he says. "Not from here." Obviously not, with that slow southern drawl.

"I am sure you'll have no shortage of patients in town, Doc Henry. I'll probably be one of them someday," Eleanor says with a grin, but a solemn look in her eyes. She accepts her cocoa with gratitude and warms her hands on it for a few moments before sipping it. She gives Fae a wave of hello and Bennie's orders get a thumbs up.

She chuckles at Joe. "I thought for sure Lucas would be married and a father before I even had a second date in this life, let alone married, so I'm as surprised as everyone else."

Fae flutters her fingertips over to the somewhat familiar face. "Heya Joe. I'm still working on that mixtape, but..." her eyes widen in an eerie deadpan of ominousness "...soon." she reports, keeping the expression for a beat before cracking a fun-loving grin up her cheek.

"I think I'll take one of those pretzels with the nacho cheese and a Shirley Temple." she murmurs over the bar, trying not to bring too much attention to her order. What kind of person comes to a bar and orders a Shirley Temple? Well, this kind apparently. At least she's a little embarrassed by it so she's self-aware.

"Yes. Um...Dr. Covington." Henry looks mildly surprised by Bennie's reaction, and just a worried too. "But, I mean, I'm not anyone famous. So likely you are thinking of someone else." He coughs lightly. "It's Bennie, yeah? I think you were a couple of years behind me at Teddy S."

Turning his attention back to Rick he offers a rueful grin and a weary nod. "Psychiatry. Yeah. Yikes!" There's a little half-laugh, then. Part genuine, part deflective. "Mostly, I will be dealing with cases at the hospital, not private practice. So...we're all off the hook." Another silent toast.

Bennie blinks at Henry, "What? Oh, no, no." She flaps a hand dismissively. "I'm an EMT. We rolled a rig in the other day with a patient I suggested to the Attending needed a psych eval. Little girl complaining of stomach pains? Had a...uh...hunch she was eating her own hair and had a bowel obstruction. Oakes, Bennie Oakes, that's right. But Eleanor is right, I'm sure we could all use a turn on your couch. Do you have a couch? You should totally get a couch." For just an EMT she seems pretty comfortable behind the bar, reaching up to grab a bottle of tequila and pour herself a shot.

Unable to hold back a chuckle at Henry's words, Rick nods, letting out a bit of a breath. "We're safe, then," he offers rather lightly, before he looks between the others again. "No cutting of hands, please," he offers a bit lightly in Bennie's direction, before he adds, "It creates too much work for yus, you know." It's offered rather lightly, before he adds, "And I can sort of understand how those of you from here tghat left can find yourself drawn back. I mean, I hadn't been here before when I first arrived, thinking I'd just get some temporary work, and then be on my merry way again, but that wasbn't how things went."

"Right on," His tone is comfortable. "I'm in no hurry at all," The drawl stretches out those last two syllables like taffy. He's still watching Henry though, thoughtfully. "Why'd you pick psychiatry?" Joe wonders, as if he had every right to go prying in like that. But then, doesn't he? Doesn't even have liquor as an excuse.

Eleanor's food arrives and she dives into her order of tots like a woman famished. Or under the sway of a parasitic organism currently using her as a host. OM NOM NOM

"Oh. Yeah!" Henry's hand hits the bar lightly as he looks to Bennie. "You were right about the hair. And, um...well, she was also eating lots of other things. Pica." This last word seems to clearly mean something to him. "Dunno if you know it, but that's the term we use for the condition. Thanks for bringing her in so quickly." He flashes a smile, then glances to Joe, who, after all, has asked the hard question.

There is a pause while Henry sips beer. "Um...well. I had a brother. In Bennie's class, though he didn't graduate. John. He um...suffered from a mental illness that ultimately claimed his life when he was sixteen." There is an awkward cough and another looooong sip of beer. "So there's that." Abruptly he shakes himself and gives another big smile. "But. Lots of other things led me there too. And it's nice to be able to help. When I can."

Taking some time to attempt to clean her hands with some nearby napkins the ginger girl seems to be failing entirely, it's a futile effort and she knew it before she started, hopefully, nacho cheese pairs well with the finely aged gunk that's made it's way from her truck to her palms. "I need'ta start carryin' around lava soap or something." she mutters under her breath, starting to slip from her stool to go and pursue her path to cleanliness in the bathroom.

"That's sort of my job. They give us fancy sirens and everything." Bennie flashes Henry a cheeky wink as she shakes some pills out from a bottle and downs them with the liquor. "Fine, no hand cutting off." She retorts to Rick as she pours herself a chaser shot to her first shot. "Maybe just a firm rap on the knuckles with a ruler like a naughty pregnant nun."

She sees Fae slipping off towards the bathroom and calls over, "Careful! It's Saturday, so no guarantee about puddles on the floor since Ravn left us, and I haven't been able to find the mop today!" Not that...she looked very hard. At all.

Eleanor stops eating long enough to quietly offer Henry, "I'm so sorry. That is so hard. It's nice to see you are in Psych for the right reasons though. Good man." She gestures at him with her fork, which is then back into her tots.

Draining quite a bit of his ale, Rick offgers a grin to Bennie. "Thanks. I'm grateful," he offers, with a grin. There's a brief pause as he considers. "Hmmm... I think a vodka would be quite good now." Was the pronounciation of the drink the way the Russians would pronounce it themselves? Sounded like it.

The sailor's long face has gone solemn, at that. The way Henry's phrased that particular reply leaves many things unspoken but not unclear, and he perhaps pointedly does not glance at the suicide scars on his own arms. "I'm sorry for your loss," he says, gently. "And it does make total sense that you'd want to find a way to battle that scourge. I know psychiatry certainly saved my life, personally." Only in the nick of time, by the look of things.

Beer glass rises in response to Eleanor-fork. Another drink. And this first one is getting low, so Henry turns his attention to the 'tender to request a second. While Henry waits for it, he laughs softly to Bennie. "Don't be modest. Those minutes from call to O.R are....intense. I'm grateful. We all are at the hospital. But I don't think we tell you enough." He gives a sort of salute, then regards Joe once more.

As he does, his eyes dip to the man's arms before they rise to his face. "I'm glad you've had that experience. Though I'm sorry for what brought you to seek help. A lot of people...don't like the profession." He seeks the man's eyes diliberately as if trying to ensure contact. "What's your name?"

Flashing a toothy smile over to Bennie as thanks for the warning Fae slips off to the lady's room, one doesn't simply get car grease off their hands that easily, but attempts need to be made. After some liberal scrubbing ensues but little progress is made she emerges once more, her lips contorting to the side as her defeat has been well documented by her still grody hands.

"Well, I tried." she sighs lightheartedly, someone hand her a participation trophy or something. "Oh, pretzel is done, that was fast." she coos, energetically slipping to her seat again. Her pale grey eyes flicker to the napkins, grabbing one more to shield her finger from her pretzel as she eats it. "I'm so smart." she dubs herself, narrowing her eyes and just really impressed with her ability to eat without consuming mechanic glitter.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not working tonight, because I wouldn't be able to lift a backboard without needing to end up on it myself." Bennie replies to Henry, pointedly staying out of the conversation of suicide as she downs a second shot of tequila and attempts to haul that dish tub again back to the kitchen to check on Eleanor's to-go order.

Work? Did he hear the word work? Rick sighs, just as he gets his vodka. "I should be going. Got work tomorrow." Getting to his feet, he smiles, "It was nice to meet all of you." A brief look to the vodka, before he drains the shot. "Ah, one to sleep better." And with that, he heads for the door.

Eleanor finishes wolfing down her tots, and pays for them and the to go order and her cocoa. "Well, I've got to go pick August up at the shop and head for home. Don't tell him I also ate these here, ok?" She winks at people, then bundles back up and heads outside.

The older man's lips quirk into a rather humorless version of a grin. "Well, I had to go through a whole lot of psychological screenings for my old job," he notes. "But that was part and parcel of the medical testing we did. It wasn't personal until after I was retired. Had TBI with psychiatric effects..." He taps his temple with an inked finger. Only part of the story, but then....Henry's not someone he knows well. "Joe Cavanaugh," he says, leaning over and offering that long hand.

Then he's glancing at Fae. "What've you been workin' on?" he inquires, curiously, before waving his farewell to Eleanor. "You take care, say hi to August for me."

Talking with your mouth full? Yeah, that's pretty standard in the world of Fae. Just because you're eating doesn't mean you can't carry on a conversation and nothing is going to stop her from enjoying a giant soft pretzel dipped in nacho cheese. "My exhaust fell off my truck on the way into town," she explains to Joe, munching away as she takes a few sips of her NA girly drink.

"Lucky for me I had the new one in my bed, I just hadn't put it on yet...seemed like as good a time as any to just get it done." she hums, not letting a little truck trouble get her down. "That's why you should always keep tools in your ride." she asserts. It's probably not the first time that old beater has broken down on her or left a part on the road, for those that have seen it it's in pretty rough shape.

Henry gives Bennie a jealous look as she downs that shot of tequila, then offers goodbyes to those who are departing. Ultimately, however, he turns his attention back on Joseph, listening as the older man offers some small part of his background, however brief. "Good to meet you, Joe. And, if I may go out on a limb, thank you for your service." Doubling down on that risk, Henry lifts his newly-arrived glass of beer in salute, then takes a swig.

When the conversation turns to Fae, he falls silent...though he is not absent, watching and listening as she tells her tale of automotive woe. At the end of her story, he laughs softly, nodding. "Good advice, that."

"Got it in one, Doc," Joe says, comfortably. "And my glib response to people thanking me for my service is to say 'No, thank you'. 'cause it's the taxpayers who paid for me to live the dream in more ways'n one. It was my privilege." A corny little speech perhaps, but very sincerely meant.

Fae's tale has him grinning and leaning over to offer a balled fist for bumping, the one with FAST tattooed across the knuckles. "Say amen, sister," he agrees. "I ride a Russian bike, so you can be for certain sure I've got tools with me at all times. Got yourself a tinker's delight, huh? That 'minds me - you met a tall guy named Rosencrantz? He's the best mechanic in town, got more tattoos'n me." As if that might be a qualification for mechanical skill.

Bennie wanders back out of the kitchen area of the bar, her nose bent to her phone as her thumbs work over the screen. She's either texting or she's playing a very involved game of Angry Birds. "He rides a Russian bike and a Mexican..." She glances up, blinking and stopping herself short. "So. Um. What are we talking about now?" She looks to Henry for clarification.

The walking pretzel advertisement scutters on over to bump that fist, because leaving someone hanging is an offense that she wouldn't dare inflict, especially not on Joe, he's a cool guy in her book. "I don't think I've met 'em." she replies, inhaling the remains of her pretzel before she even hits the barstool again.

Her attention slides to Bennie for a brief second before offering a quirk of her eyebrow to the room. "You have a Mexican bike too Joe? That's neat, do you collect motorcycles?" oh sweet summer child. With the meal down she laces her fingers around her drink, nursing it along as if it was actually boozy while she enjoys the casual chatter.

"You tell me," Henry says with a lopsided grin to Bennie and then a nod toward Joe and Fae. "I'd only made it to the Russian bike part. The Mexican bike has not yet mad an appearance in the story." He gives a nod then befor another sip of beer. More seriously, he adds, "I think we are on...the best mechanics in Gray Harbor. Or motorcycles. Or both." It would seem, however, that Joe is the focal point of storytime. Henry turns on his stool to regard Joe more fully and takes a nursing sip of his beer in parallel with Fae and her NA drink.

Bennie's interjection has Joe choking on his Irish coffee, even as he gently taps knuckles with Fae. Once he's straightened up and set his drink back down on the bar, he clarifies, voice dry, "Nah. I've only got the one bike, a sidecar rig called a Ural." He gives it the Russian pronunciation: Oorahl. "The only Mexican I ride is a cop."

Then he props himself against the bar and goes on, lazily, "But Rosencrantz is real good. You need help with somethin' mechanical, he runs a garage called Steelhead."

Bennie motions with her phone to Joseph who finishes the rest of the sentence she left hanging when she realized they were in mixed company, mixed meaning people she isn't used to digging into the personal lives of and making inappropriate comments about. She fires off another text but glances up at Fae from the tops of her eyes, which then narrow slightly. "Give her a few years, Joe, and she'll be able to fix her own. Until then, Itzhak is the bees knees." There is a twiddle of her fingers like communicating with him in some unspoken language. "And this one here," Henry. "Needs to meet Alexander."

Joe's Mexican "bike" reveal makes Henry laugh approvingly. "Nothing like a man in unifor--" he abruptly breaks off, sets his beer down and regards Bennie. "Alexander? As in...Alexander Clayton?" It's a guess, but not a wild one. The town is small and they all are mostly of an age. As if names won't help, he continues, "...kinda crazy, super blunt, heart of gold, tells you not to die every time he sees you?"

"Well...I'm sure I'll get in over my head at some point and be talkin' to 'em." Fae readily admits with a smooth dimple painting her face. She might be mechanically inclined but it's not like she's a professional, nor does she have the tools a shop would have, she's been making do with her anemic toolbox that lives it's life behind her seat.

As dense as she seemed to be with that joke whiffing her the first time around she does manage to catch it on it's explanation. "Oh, I see." she girlisly giggles, bobbling her head along as her lips fold in trying to catch her laugh before it turns into an obnoxious cackle. "Well, um, good for you." she voices over to Joe, what else is there to say really?

"Amen to that," Joe purrs. Smug as a cat that's been given the keys to the dairy. The mention of Clayton makes his expression go dry again....but he has just manners enough to conceal some of his disapproval behind the rim of his cup. Only then does he nod at Fae, a sly gleam in the blue eyes.

Bennie's grin turns a little sly as Henry starts a sentence and they caps himself off. "You'll fit back in just fine." She's about to go back to her phone before he expounds about Clayton and then she turns on all thousand watts of her smile that brings the light back to her eyes. "That's my boo. But there was a whole kidnapping incident and he and our resident astronaut here aren't on the best of terms, so we should probably ix-nay on the Layton-cay."

It's been awhile since Henry has managed pig latin, plus he's deep into his second beer, so the proverbial penny is slow to drop. "Ah. Gotcha." He turns that little invisible key at the front of his mouth, and tosses it over his shoulder. It seems, however, that he is unable to stop himself from talking at the moment. "I know Alexander. Why did you think it would be good for us to meet? I mean, just...y'know, out of curiosity."

With her Shirley Temple nearing completion she tilts back, heading the rest of the glass like a desperado in a western that's about to hit the dusty trail. "Well, I better take off, I've got online Christmas shopping to do while the boyfriend is out making sure the town doesn't catch on fire." a night away from your partner is best spent on auto repairs and buying them gifts for sure.

"Did Alexander tell me not to die last time I saw him?" she quietly queries herself, not sure if that happened or not, maybe he wants her to die then? That's mean of him. "He probably did." she's probably forgotten what she ate for breakfast this morning, recalling the last run in with Alexander verbatim isn't going to happen and she quickly gives up as she's settling her tab.

Her hand waffles around the room at the group as she heads on out the door, "It was real nice talkin' to ya'll." the country girl partingly yammers. "Have a good one." and with that she's back out into the chill, hoping her truck stays together long enough to get her back to the house where she can safely plot presents for the holiday.

Now the look Joe levels at Bennie is positively displeased. "How 'bout we not bring up stuff about the private lives of those who aren't present to defend themselves?" he suggests, and while his voice is gentle, there's that note behind it. Fae's departing back gets a wave, and then he's slipping down from his stool. His usual generous tip as well as the bill are deposited on the bartop, and he's shrugging into his coat with the kind of care that suggests he knows he's unsteady, and desperately wants to not make a fool of himself in public.

"Because you have similar auras." Bennie says simply, like Henry should have any clue what she's talking about, but perhaps she's just one of those flower children who is just moonlighting in all black tonight. Her fingers twiddle at the departing Fae, commenting to those that remain in her conversation space. "She's a peach." When she's subtly reprimanded by Joseph her mouth screws up to the side and then she makes a face that looks like a grimace. "Sorry, I'm a little...off tonight. You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just glad to have you back, is all and didn't want to run you off by talking about my bestie but it looks like you're a-goin' anyways. So." She ducks her head slightly, "Yeah, sorry."

"It's my fault," Henry offers to Joseph, slipping of his bar stool with that kind of eager leap that suggests he'll feel more sincere on his feet. "She told me he was a sore subject and I asked about him anyway. I apologize. Don't let me run you off. Unless you gotta go anyway."

"It's a'right, I should be headin' out anyhow, gotta date to play chess with someone in Kazakhstan," Joe says, ruefully. "I drink any more, he's guaranteed ta win." He manages to thrash his way into his coat, shrugs it into place, and draws on his gloves, one by one. "Y'all have a good evenin'," he wishes, quietly. With that, he's making his way out into the chill of the winter night, stride hitching and uneven.

Bennie offers Jospeh one last apologetic smile as he heads off and then she's tucking her phone away into her back pocket. "So. That happened." She sighs. "At least it's not as bad as last time!" Trying to look on the bright side of things, even though her eyes don't match the enthusiasm in her voice as she pulls her tequila bottle back her way and adds a second glass to hers. "You want one? I'm buying. Or rather I'm taking advantage of the fact that I'm totally shagging the owner of the bar."

"I am /always/ up for a shot of collaterally purchased sex-tequila," Henry says, adopting a grin after a more somber expression in the wake of Joe's departure. Then his nose wrinkles. "I'm sorry. It really was my fault. The next non-nepotistic shot is on me." He watches as she pours. "And yeah, as for Alexander...we met when I was...eighteen. Maybe seventeen. He sensed my, um...aura, as you put it. And he pretty much saved my life."

"Oh no no, trust me, it was totally me. I mean, my filter was pretty much toast since day one and then add to that dating a Marine and I'm lucky I don't swear enough to make even that sailor blush." Bennie fills both the glasses and nudges over a salt shaker if he's so inclined but she doesn't seem to need the fuss of dressing her shot tonight. "Alexander has that effect on people. Saving them. Pretty sure he pulls mine out of some fire or another at least once a month. So have the two of you had a chance to reconnect since you've been back?" She holds up her glass and waits for a companioning one to clink.

Clink No salt. No lime. Clean. Herny lifts the glass slightly in salute, then tosses it back, pulling a little air into his mouth in the aftermath of the swallow. Then, he nods. "Yeah. Strangely. I ran into him the park...staring at a turkey because...well, Alexander. This was like my second day back in town. And then we met here," he glances around the bar, "for lunch a couple of weeks ago. I offered to try some psychiatric therapies for memory loss, just to see if we could uncover some clues about what happened to him over some of the past few months."

Bennie adds one more step after they clink, knocking it on the bar's top once before she shoots it back like a sorority girl during rush week. Flipping it over when it's empty, she clacks it back to the bar with a whistle of breath at the delicious burn. "I know it bothers him. He's a man that likes facts, clues...a path he can follow to the truth. I finally just gave up. Decided a couple of months is nothing. I've got so many holes in my memory beyond the time slip that my brain must look like Swiss cheese. Like I'm pretty sure you're around the same age as my brother would have been but I can't for the life of me remember you from back then."

"Judd Oakes, yeah. He was in my class." This makes Henry laugh softly. He seems to have good memories of Judd. As for the not remembering /Henry/ part..."It's all good. My high school years took a little...turn. My um...aura kicked in. And of course I used it. And then They came for me." Something about the word they. It has an implied capital 'T', and maybe only someone from Gray Harbor might hear it. He shudders.

Maybe it is the tequila, but most likely not.

"My brother John was your age. AndI tried to care for him. With...things besides medical treatment. Which, let me tell you, is a /bad idea/. And then he was gone." Henry pauses, but only very briefly, to make a slicing motion of his hand through the air, more like a bird in flight than the slash of a blade. "And then things got worse. And then, thank god for Alexander." And here he smiles again. It fades slowly. "I think for many people, like Alexander, memory is a lifeline."

Bennie's lips turn into a bittersweet sort of smile at the mention of Judd, wanting to cling to the sound of that little laugh at his memory but it's gone too soon as he mentions the whole They thing. She grimaces in sympathy, "Easton was lost once. Worst six months of my life, and that's saying something. There's been serious competition." But she just sort of shakes her head at the mention of John, "I'm sorry it's just..." She makes a little explosion gesture from the side of her temple. "Gone. But I was a huge B-I-T-C-H," Spelling out the word instead of using it, "Back then. So probably for the best. I'm sorry you lost him though. My mom." She adds at the end, which sounds like she's saying she knows what it's like to lose someone to their own mental illness.

"Ah." That seems to be the only syllable that Henry can make for a bit. Maybe it is because he sees something in Bennie's face that tells him Judd is gone. Maybe he is thinking about his own brother. Or her mother. Or. Or. Or. Ultimately, he draws a shaky breath, however, and extends his now-empty glass. "Here's to the lost. And those that made their way home. Please thank Easton for the tequila. I look forward to meeting him sometime."

Bennie assumes he wants a refill of course and so she splashes some into the extended glass rather haphazardly, no doubt getting his fingers and the bar top just as much as she gets inside the glass. "To the lost." Apparently the blonde is now claiming the rest of the bottle as her own because she swigs straight from the mouth of it. "Oh, I'm sure it'll be soon. Can't miss him, his loud booming voice will make sure of that. And make sure to ask to see his abs, they are worth the price of admission. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a date with the couch in the office."

Henry laughs, then sucks the tequila from his fingers. "Good night, Bennie. It was good to see you again. Even if you can't remember me." A wink as he settles the bill. And then, as he starts to leave, he turns back. "Though with abs worth the price of admission to look at all the time...I can understand." A final wink, and he throws open the dooor and that howling autumn wind without. It picks him up, like a leaf, and carries him away to whatever dark corner collects things that have found their way home.