[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/019dfb95-17c2-7002-8a50-2c5942e23141.webp[/img]

Lee’s eyebrows rise as Silvester stumbles through explaining what he needs. Okay- he’s not here to see Clark- just to get something cold. Sure- easy enough.[color=E26612]”Yeah- sure.”[/color] He grabs the key to the cash drawer that Clark keeps on a nail under the counter. It’s underneath a dust covered apron- Lee’s not sure how they’ve gotten away with that for this long. But then again, it’s necessary since they seem to be doing this so damn often. 

When Lee’s upright again, Silvester is standing in front of him with his haul. Did- did Silvester just give him an up-down? No way. He scratches the purchase into a notebook beside the register. Extending his hand, he catches the man’s payment. But it’s not without his stomach doing a little flip when they brush hands.

Clearing his throat, he answers the question. [color=E26612]”I think I could scrape together $75? If you’re looking for more, can I catch up with ya after payday?”[/color] The mental math is already saying there isn’t a way in hell that’s happening. Maybe $25 more. Maybe. [color=E26612]”And as far as your daughter goes- we can work something out to get it to her when she needs it. If that’s something that comes up-”[/color] He offers Silvester a paper bag, but figures he’ll decline.

[color=BC8F8F]”You can give me 50 bucks for it and I’ll throw in a year long warranty if it isn’t up to snuff,”[/color] Silvester nods along, waving off the bag as he looks down at his shoes for a moment, [color=BC8F8F]”My daughter doesn’t appreciate hand-me-downs anyways. She’d probably rather I sold it anyway. Knowing her, she’d get onto me for knocking the price—”[/color]

Silvester’s eyes travel over Lee’s shoulder. So he turns as well to look at the door. Another silhouette darkens the doorway. 

[quote][color=E9ED40]"Excuse me! Is the owner around? I'd really like to talk to him. Or...or her. Them? The owner?"[/color][/quote]
An out of towner. During a power outage- what a hell of a time to visit Pines Holler. He smiles apologetically at Silvester. Then Lee hesitates before turning back to answer. [color=E26612]”Seems like it. Ma’s fine- her and Sandy are holed up in the kiddie pool in the backyard.”[/color] Lee sighs and guides the older man back to the front. Silvester fidgets behind him, unsure of what to do with his hands as they pass the mildly cold cola between them. [color=E26612]”Don’t be a stranger- it was nice seeing ya.”[/color] There is a genuine lift to his tone before he refocuses his attention.

[color=BC8F8F]”I might, uh, actually still browse a bit if that’s not any trouble,”[/color] Silvester pauses as he puts a hand on the door, smiling at the two just behind it, [color=BC8F8F]”It’ll give me time to convince my daughter to give me my car back. I can’t stomach walking through that heat anymore, even if it isn’t half as better in here. And the tavern… it’s just, uh, I don’t do well around too many folks anyhow. Nicer this way, I think.”[/color] Offering his pleasantries, Silvester dips a bit to give them space and stay clear out of the way, [color=BC8F8F]”Sorry, don’t mind my old man ramblings. Morning to y’all.”[/color]

Lee pivots to the door. Behind it is a woman wearing something nicer than what Ma wore to her wedding. A pretty white blouse, and slacks. Out of the ordinary- for sure. He bristles at the information he’s collected- but rights himself by putting on his customer service face. [color=E26612]”Somethin’ we can help you with ma’am?”[/color]

In the time it takes to make it over- another form he’s a little more familiar with stands beside her. Before he knows it, Suzanna’s holding the door open. [color=E26612]”What- is this an ambush? We don’t have any ice if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”[/color] It’s lighthearted. [color=E26612]”Come in before we let all the air out.”[/color] He beckons them in quickly. Lee watches Silvester pull his phone out and start furiously typing, likely to his daughter, as he dips behind the nearest shelves.

The last thing Theresa expected was another local showing up and, moreover, opening the door as if the store was open despite the sign. But then, was there anything more fitting of a townsfolk than being so familiar with the local shop that a closed door was not a deterrent? Even in her limited time outside the store, she could tell the three others had a familiarity with each other, passing or otherwise, that went beyond simply being a regular customer. That distinction was clear in places like this; Theresa could be asked about her ex-partner or her parents by the barista at her favorite coffee shop in the city, but in a town like this when a clerk asked about the parents or the house or anything…it was genuine. Human.

And now Theresa had to convince the people to remove that humanity in service of profit. If she believed, she was definitely going to hell. [color=E9ED40]”Yes, hello, sorry to bother you,”[/color] Theresa followed inside the store, engaging in the awkward dance of nodding the head to the other customers. She paused a moment when she saw the employee, searching what lingering memories she had of her youth only to come up..empty. Not quite forgotten but just pushed to the side. [color=E9ED40]”Sorry, I’m looking for the owner. Clark? I assume Clark is…still around?”[/color] Internally Theresa was screaming at herself. Be polite. Be friendly. Be cordial. Stop being so obviously a suit! [color=E9ED40]”Some…some morning, huh?”[/color] Well…it was better than nothing. 

[color=E26612]”Clark’s ‘round back- I doubt anybody would be stubborn enough to keep this place open besides Clark.”[/color] The hesitation in the woman’s voice causes him to pause. [color=E26612]”Does Clark know you’re looking for him?”[/color] He offers her a smile- but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He knows Clark wasn’t expecting anyone today- or usually ever. But it’s a good opportunity to gauge this stranger.

Stranger. Is she a stranger? There’s something familiar about her that he can’t place.

[color=E9ED40]”He…does…not know I’m looking for him, no.”[/color] Theresa could’ve lied, but her mother once told her that lies had a way of coming back around. Of all the times her parents and their wisdom came back to influence her, it had to be when she needed to bend the truth. Was that irony? Probably not. But it was annoying and she had only herself to blame. [color=E9ED40]”Are you…like…a manager or…?”[/color]

Lee thinks about his answer too. [color=E26612]”Nah- I am the night stocker sometimes, but Clark doesn’t make enough around here to have a full time manager on.”[/color] He looks out the front windows- at the shady sun littered sidewalk. [color=E26612]”Are you selling something?”[/color] He tries to be gentle about the accusation, but he gives her a once over to hopefully indicate the origin of his question. [color=E26612]“Ain’t it a little hot for that?”[/color] He closes an eye and tilts his head at her. Some mirror across the street must be shining a light in his eye. 

[color=E9ED40]”Selling something? Not…exactly.”[/color] Did it count if she was trying to sell a man on an idea? Probably not, though it still kinda had a price tag attached to it. She filed away the knowledge of a lack of salary for a manager position in her mind; it was likely not intentional but the clerk had given Theresa some ammunition. It would’ve been a depressing thought if she dwelled on it. [color=E9ED40]”Hot for…oh, you mean my outfit? Nah, I’m used to it. I’m from here. Around here. I’m…from around…here.”[/color] Smooth. Not suspicious at all.

Lee blinks at her answer- she’s from here? Is she younger or older than him? He only had two years of high school, so that’s probably why she isn’t super familiar. He was- preoccupied. [color=E26612]”Well- I can take you back to the office to talk with the old man.”[/color] Lee turns towards the back of the store, luckily there is just enough light spilling in from the windows that they aren’t walking down a pitch dark hallway. He’d have just hollered for Clark in that case. Lee raps on the door when they get there. [color=E26612]”Clark- someone’s askin’ for you. Ms-?”[/color] The door swings open, and a man with a sunworn face stares back at them. Lee extends an arm to motion to the woman. He doesn’t really listen to her answer. Lee just gives her a firm nod and heads back out to the front. 

[color=E9ED40]”Yes! Theresa. Ms. Theresa!”[/color] There was a very real possibility Clark would place the last name. Better avoid it. Theresa steps towards the door, her arm extended and her best corporate polite smile on her face. She never quite learned how to make that smile seem genuine. Probably because it never was. [color=E9ED40]”I would very much like to speak to you, Mr. Clark. Just…some simple questions…”[/color] The easy part was over…

She’s Clark’s problem now. 

Plus there are two customers out front when there were supposed to be zero. As Lee walks towards the front of the door, a ray of sunlight catches his eye just right. In that moment he almost feels like he can see his old man walking in the door. As usual his loud mouth is open- harassing Clark for some of his wife’s lemonade. It’s barely more than a beat, but it causes his gait to falter as he shakes off the illusion. 

He heads over to stand behind the register once more.

As Lee walks back over to the counter, a familiar voice speaks up.

[color=ED1C24]“Just need some things.”[/color] Suzanna replied. She had since wandered into the few aisles in the store while Lee was busy with the stranger. [color=ED1C24]“Saw people inside. Figured y’all were open.”[/color]

 Her gaze travelled the various shelves in an attempt to locate what she needed—spices. The spice cabinet at home was running low, and god forbid was Suzanna not about to season her food with salt and pepper alone. Flavor wasn’t something to cheap out on regardless of what you were cooking. It made food edible. [i]Enjoyable[/i].

[color=ED1C24]“I’ve got some fish in the cooler.”[/color]


She grabbed a mix of several different spice containers, and then headed back to the counter where Lee was waiting. They were more expensive at Clark’s than the big box stores off the main highway, but Suzanna didn’t mind the premium. There was a difference in the atmosphere; the service at Clark’s that she felt you couldn’t get anywhere else.

[color=ED1C24]“You hungry?”[/color] Suzanna asked, placing the spices on the counter. She dug into her pocket, and pulled out her wallet to pay. [color=ED1C24]“You’re already closed. Why not ask for the day off? We can go grab Sandy on the way.”[/color]

Lee picks up each bottle, scribbling the barcode down in his off-blue legal notebook. He reaches the second to last one and notices that the date is almost past due. He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to remember the last time they’d gotten a spice shipment. [color=E26612]“Hold that thought Suz.”[/color] He jogs into the aisles quickly and finds a sealed box behind 2-3 remaining of the one kind Suzanna picked up. 

He looks right, and finds Silvester typing away on his phone. Lee takes a moment to give him a real once over- lingering on the finer details of his outfit. The well fitting pants and shirt. 

Lee whips his head back to the spices, sweeps the nearly expired ones into his apron, and pops open a fresh box. A few years on the expiry for these. Cool. [color=E26612]”Suz- I can give you like, 50% off that one- it’s almost expired. Or one of these for full price.”[/color]

He writes down the new UPC code into his notebook, and starts tabulating the math with a pencil. Since he graduated with his GED, he’d stopped using a calculator. Something made you value basic skills when you feel like you’re learning them later than you should. 

[color=E26612]”Sandy’s home already- actually. But if you’re offerin’, I got a trellis full of green beans to share.”[/color] While he’s pleased at the offer, he also knows how tight budgets around here have been lately. He’s gonna be sending her home with some of ma’s pickled beats and carrots in return. 

Lee looks over his shoulder at the occupied office, and then back to Suzanna. [color=E26612]“I’ve got the truck, so meet you back at the park? Sandy can help you with the green beans- she’s done ‘em tons.”[/color]

[color=ED1C24]“It’ll be fine, I’ll take it. Probably will be gone by the time it expires.”[/color] She explained, handing Lee a couple bills across the counter. 

Suzanna hadn’t expected anything in return, but she wasn’t going to turn down Lee’s offer. Side dishes always went well with her family recipes, especially with fresh produce. Toss in a little seasoning and some butter (which unfortunately they’d likely have to skip out on), and you were “eating good”.

[color=ED1C24]“That’ll work.”[/color] Suzanna replied. [color=ED1C24]“I’ll meet you there. Get things prepped for y’all.”[/color]

Grabbing the spices, Suzanna tossed Lee and then Silvester a farewell nod as she headed back to her truck. She needed to get the grill hot and ready for them to cook; charcoal took some time to heat up, after all.

When he’s finished checking Suz out, he marks the remaining spices as half off with the bright neon orange stickers in the drawer. He tosses them into the basket of deals, and then finds Silvester in the stacks. [color=E26612]” Hey- enjoy the AC, I’m getting out of here. Just head out the back when you’re done soaking it up.”[/color] A quick smile, and then he’s out the back- headed for his truck. 

The suddenness of noise causes Silvester to jolt in place, taking him out his quiet Spanglish mumbling to see Lee. It takes a long time for the words to register, long enough that Silvester’s simply staring at Lee for longer than he’d deem polite. He stumbles, nearly knocking his elbow in against one of the shelves before shoving his phone back in his pocket. [color=BC8F8F]”Oh, oh yeah. That’s—I should probably get outta Clark’s hair anyway,”[/color] He says motioning toward the back door as he starts scooting off, [color=BC8F8F]”Give my place a call—the store. Give the store a call anytime. I’ll keep that futon ready for you.”[/color]

With that, Silvester makes himself as scarce as he can, lamenting the fact that he immediately forgot his farewells, wellwishing, any and all kinds of polite goodbyes. He’d think on that much later, when the heat wasn’t still clinging to his shirt and his shirt wasn’t clinging to his skin.