[center][url=https://fontmeme.com/calligraphy-fonts/][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/260521/03dd4f26.png[/img][/url]

[img]https://www.image2url.com/r2/default/images/1779385805415-478994aa-79c7-43cc-baee-9bb78c325f8f.jpg[/img]
[sub][b][color=92278f]Location:[/color][color=999999] Pines Holler Fairgrounds[/color]
[color=92278f]Interacting with:[/color][color=999999] Each other -[@SouffleGirl123][/color][/b][/sub]
[color=92278f]_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/color]

[color=999999]The Fultons were staying afloat, if only barely some days. When faced with heatwave and failed electricity they were forced to succumb to the offer of a free generator despite it being against their better judgement. They originally adamantly refused but Liz found herself struggling through the heat more than most and with the fear of what heatstroke might do to the baby the pair crumbled under pressure. For one day that is, until Isaiah found a reliable second-hand one to buy resulting in the prompt removal of Gideon’s. Although it wasn’t ever verbalised the pair knew they were in agreement that they didn’t trust this man in the crisp clean suit. Isaiah had found himself a job helping set up the fair and while it wasn’t consistent work it was better than nothing. Between the fair gigs and Liz managing to sell a painting the pair had somehow avoided dipping into their savings this week for the first time in over a month.

She knew it was cliche but the July 4th event used to be Liz’ favourite time of the year. For as much as the town hinged on their stubbornness in refusing growth, Liz not absent from that way of thinking, the event did bring a liveliness to the town that the woman enjoyed. Most years Liz would be first in line for the mechanical bull and years younger she was in line to get in on the bareback bronc riding (really bringing the y’allternative vibe to the rodeo while she was at it). For obvious reasons, neither of those were good ideas this time around- or more aptly were worse ideas. Instead Liz resigned herself to people watching as she wandered around eying the games and activities while she waited for Isaiah to finish up finalising things for the rodeo. Not that it put a damper on her evening, she enjoyed watching the people around- some almost reliving memories she had. The young high school sweethearts walking hand in hand on their first date the way Liz and Isaiah were nearly 20 years prior; the anxious teenager waiting in line to ride the mechanical bull “just this one time” to shut their friends up (Liz rode it 13 times that fair despite her stubbornly stated ‘just once’); the young kids running around excitedly screaming and waving their sparklers- a snapshot of her past that she hoped would also be a glimpse into her son’s future. The corners of her lips upturned slightly, she was glad Isaiah had dragged her here. 

The only reason the festivities [i]used[/i] to be her favourite was the date. Liz still loved the liveliness, the rides and the atmosphere. The distraction was nice. But in the quiet moments when she was lined up for rides or awaited her food order or even when the silences in conversations ran a little too long she was reminded of what this date had become. The day she lost her daughter. This seemed to be on the forefront of her mind, even more than the past couple of years. She needed a distraction and fast. That's when she spots  a familiar face- well really a familiar back of head. She makes her way to one of her childhood friends before idling next to her. Two young kids run past waving their sparklers and yelling as an exasperated mother screams at them to return to the open space and leave the stall area alone. Liz gives a small chuckle. [color=DEB887]“Crazy to think that  that was us nearly 30 years ago. How time flies,”[/color] she says gently as she watches the world around them for a moment. She soon turns her gaze toward Lyra. [color=DEB887]“How are you?”[/color]

Lyra’s eyes lingered on the sparks of color as the children ran past. Their laughter rang in her ears. Holidays were always a bittersweet time for her, reminding her of a much simpler time. She could never bring herself to miss the festivities though. Something about the idea of shutting herself in and hiding away from the world felt too much like giving up. So she came out, she socialized, she celebrated with the town. Even if it was just to tell herself that she was still here. Still alive.

Lyra finally turned her eyes toward Liz. Once upon a time they had been thick as thieves. They had run through this very fair, wrecking havoc and creating chaos just like those children. It felt like a lifetime ago now. More often than not, it felt like those days and those memories belonged to someone else. As she looked at Liz she found herself missing that closeness and easy friendship they once shared. Despite her swirling thoughts, she smiled at Liz with a practiced ease

[color=92278f]”Oh, I’m alright,”[/color] Lyra said. [color=92278f]”Waiting on a turkey leg right now. You know I could never stay away from the fried crap.”[/color] Lyra gestured towards the food stall that was just off to the right with her thumb. If she was being perfectly honest, the foods that she could only get come fair time were a big motivator for her to come each year as well. She had been picking up as many shifts at the diner as she could for the past couple weeks just so she’d have money to spare. Simple pleasures and all that.

Her eyes briefly lowered to look at Liz’s stomach before returning to her face. [color=92278f]”How long until the baby’s due? I’m sure everyone is looking forward to having a new little one to gush over.”[/color]

Liz returned Lyra’s smile with a forced one of her own. Part of her wondered if she was imagining the lack of light behind Lyra's eyes the woman once had. Not that she’d blame her, even from a distance Liz knew the mess Lyra’s life had become but even more so knew how little she knew about it. Liz knew her own smile wasn't reflected in her eyes. [color=DEB887]“I think indulging in the fried crap is an important part of this time of the year. Wouldn’t be a real American holiday without it.”[/color] Liz replies, giving her old friend another forced smile. 

At Lyra’s question Liz bit her bottom lip as she pretended to do the math in her head, as if she didn’t wake up every morning with the internal countdown ever present in her head. Holding her lip back with her teeth seemed to hold back any form of quivering. When the silence started getting a little too strong, when the memories of what this date marked for her 4 years ago threatened to seep through she replies- [color=DEB887]“About six weeks. We’re… yeah… we're lookin’ forward to meeting him.”[/color] Almost the same words she said about her daughter many times those few years prior only to lose her that night. She clears her throat before continuing. [color=DEB887]“I think I’m more looking forward to not feeling so gross all the time but that’s between you and me,”[/color] she half-jokes with a forced chuckle. She looks ahead at the festivities before them. More of the crowds were pouring in, she knew it wouldn’t be long until areas felt more suffocating than lively but she hoped the food trucks would be spared for little longer.

[color=DEB887]“How’s the diner?”[/color] Liz tries to grasp onto whatever she could think to ask Lyra before the silence becomes too long again. She missed when their conversations flowed better, or even when saying nothing felt more natural than awkward. Despite their many interactions at Huskers over the past few years it didn’t really seem to do anything to rekindle their closeness.

Lyra couldn’t help but laugh a little at the American holiday comment. [color=92278f]”God bless the fried crap, the most American of traditions,”[/color] She gave a small salute as she said the words. She didn’t miss how stilted and awkward the conversation felt though. As though they were only talking for the sake of having something to do other than stand around. And maybe that’s what it was. What they had become.

[color=92278f]”Six weeks, huh?”[/color] Time really did fly. It didn’t even feel like it was all that long ago when her and Liz had been sitting in Husker’s and Liz told her about the baby. Lyra had been a few beers deep at the time, nothing new, but she could recall the way that Liz hadn’t truly smiled when telling her the news. Much like now, where Liz’s smile looked precarious at best. [color=92278f]”I ain’t gonna pretend I know what the whole pregnancy thing is like, but I’ll definitely be treating you to a drink or two when the little one is born. Sounds like you might need it.”[/color]

The silence between them felt heavy. It always did. Lyra knew there was a lot between them that needed to be said, especially on her end. As the quiet stretched her thoughts drifted back in time. How many weeks had she woken up to texts from Liz asking if she was okay, or asking if she wanted to do something after [i]it[/i] happened? And she had ignored every single one. Until they had stopped coming altogether. By the time she had officially moved back into Pines Holler the damage had been done.

Lyra’s silence had atrophied every close relationship she’d had. Those relationships had rotted like dead leaves degrading into the earth. 

And now here she was, standing with the woman she had once called her best friend, and barely able to hold a conversation. It was pathetic, she told herself. If she couldn’t even hold a decent conversation with someone she’d known basically her whole damn life, what good was she? It wasn’t even that she didn’t want Liz in her life like before. She craved the connection they used to have. Wanted, even, to apologize for shutting her out the way she had and tell her about it all. But every time she thought of doing just that her throat closed up and the words just wouldn’t come.

As her brain registered the question that Liz had asked her - thank god - she mentally shook those thoughts away. [color=92278f]“The diner? Been working my ass off to have turkey leg money is how it’s been going,”[/color] she said, though even she could hear the distance in her voice. [i]Get it together[/i], she told herself. [color=92278f]”It’s been good though. Selling milkshakes like crazy in this heat. I think I’ll be plenty happy when winter hits and I won’t have to blend one up fifty times a day.”[/color]

Lyra chewed the inside of her cheek. She could clearly see that Liz was bothered about something. It would be the right thing to ask. Did she even have the right anymore though? Maybe it wasn’t her place, after the way she had ignored Liz back then. But then didn’t Lyra owe it to her to check in on her? [color=92278f]”So… You doing okay?”[/color] Lyra forced the question out into the air between them. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, and she could swear she could feel it in her head. It wasn’t much at all as far as goodwill gestures went, but Lyra hoped that Liz would be able to see it for what it was. That she was trying.

At Lyra's offer of a couple of drinks a half smile creeps up her left cheek. [color=DEB887]“Now that's an offer I [i]cannot[/i] refuse. Especially with this weather I've been craving a beer like nobody's business. I didn't think I'd be so unprepared to give that up.”[/color] She shifts on her feet slightly in an attempt to redistribute some of the extra weight from her back. It barely helped but barely was better than nothing. 

Liz was glad Lyra filled some of the space with idle chatter about her job. Something to distract her brain. It brought up complaints Liz would have about Huskers; the long hours on her feet, when the tips were low even from rich tourists and when she had to make way too many damn margaritas. She felt the start of a smile creep on her face. That was when Lyra's question brought her crashing right back down to Earth. 

While Liz was typically pretty good at masking her pain, when it rained it poured and when it poured no amount of bartender charm would cover the emotions behind her eyes. This was one such day. Liz gave a small sigh as she thought over her words carefully. What did Lyra know? Her most recent pregnancy wasn't a secret. She was way too far into it before her loss for it to be. But she didn't shout about it from the rooftops, at least not after she lost it. 

Yet Lyra was an odd case even if she didn't know. Once upon a time she was the closest friend Liz had. Lyra was one of the very few people who knew about the first time she was pregnant and again when she lost that baby. Something most of Pines still don't know about almost 15 years later. Their interactions became a lot more infrequent after that and the pair started properly drifting apart after Liz’ wedding. However her old friend once again stood in front of her asking her how she was doing. Checking in the way Liz should have more persistently than she did. Was Liz the reason they drifted apart? If she'd messaged more frequently, at better times or not given up after a few years would Lyra have felt more comfortable coming to her earlier? Would they still be close? 

The younger woman bites her bottom lip as her hand rests itself on her stomach. A swift kick inside of her reminded the woman that her son was most definitely still alive yet her focus sat on how to word her answer. [color=DEB887]“Today- today is the anniversary of my last miscarriage,”[/color] she says very slowly as if that would help hold back the wave of emotion. [color=DEB887]“Not the one from my 20s, the one from a few years ago- 4 to be exact. I- uh- that one couldn't be a secret. I don't know if you knew but you were at Husker's and I- uh-”[/color] she stops mid-sentence to look up at the blue sky and force out a breath to attempt to hold back the wave of tears threatening to pour. [color=DEB887]“I was far enough along that anyone who wasn't told would know by looking at me.”[/color] she pauses to await Lyra's reaction before dumping more of the story on her.

[i]Shit, way to put your foot in your own mouth[/i], Lyra thought to herself. She vaguely remembered hearing that Liz had had another miscarriage, but god, she’d been so heavily in the bottle at the time. She’d been showing up to her shifts at the diner hungover so often that she’d nearly lost her job a couple different times. It wouldn’t surprise her if she’d been three sheets to the wind at the time. Now though? She was stone cold sober, felt like an ass, and really wanted the comfort of a cold beer to get her through this. That last one wasn’t going to be an option here though.

[color=92278f]”I-I… I’m sorry, Liz. I didn’t even realize that was today.”[/color] Lyra looked away, her heart flush with guilt. She should have known. She should have been there to offer Liz some kind of comfort. She shouldn’t have been so damn drunk all the time that Liz’s pain wasn’t even a blip on her radar.

Lyra scratched the back of her neck. This was getting real personal real quick, and it sort of made her skin crawl, but she owed Liz something. An explanation of some sort. And she was so [i]tired[/i] of being a coward and running from everything that set off her anxiety. The fact that someone, anyone, trying to get to know her or learn more about her had her heart in her throat and her lungs feeling broken was exhausting. The very notion that she hadn’t been there for the woman that used to be her best friend during that time? Hadn’t even said anything to her about it? It was shameful.

[color=92278f]”I… Well, uh… I should’ve been there for you. You know, during all that.”[/color] Lyra swallowed thickly through the feeling of her throat closing up. She could do this. She [i]would[/i] do this. [color=92278f]”I was- um… I guess you could say everything wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for me at the time,”[/color] Lyra managed to get out. That was putting it mildly, but it would do. [color=92278f]”You know, you probably saw, I was pretty heavy into the whiskey at the time… “[/color] Oh lord, and here she was rambling and it felt as though it was coming out all wrong. This. This is why she didn’t get all personal with people anymore.

Her head felt like it was stuck underwater. It was like she was in a bubble and the rest of the fair was on the other side - there, and yet so far away. Lyra knew the signs by now. She was panicking. Instinctively, her hand reached into her back pocket, pulling out a small nondescript flask. Her hands knew what to do, and the cap on the flask was unscrewed with the speed of desperation. The burn of the vodka sliding down her throat did the trick. It grounded her just enough that her lungs felt like they opened up. It was like a drowning man getting his first real breath of air.

She was also now acutely aware of the fact that Liz had just seen all that.

[color=92278f]”Sorry. Sorry, you didn’t need to see that,”[/color] Lyra hurriedly said as she put the flask away, still avoiding Liz’s eyes. She was sure that she probably looked like a raging alcoholic after that little display. [color=92278f]“I just… I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend. I-I wasn’t in a good way then. Still not. Clearly.”[/color]

[color=DEB887]“It- it’s fine,”[/color] Liz replies gently. Was it? Not really, probably. If Liz was being honest the fact that Lyra didn’t consider her last miscarriage being the issue despite the fact she probably rocked up to the bar the day Liz didn’t show up for her shift the day after then continued to be there while Liz had stayed mysteriously gone for months stung- more than she was willing to admit. Was it really fair to expect that of Lyra though. In truth they hadn’t really been friends for a long time, that was obvious in their dwindling contact in their early-mid 20s and total loss of it by the time Liz was 24. Even Lyra’s return didn’t fix things between them. Was Liz to blame for that too? Probably.

Liz’s chest felt heavy. On a day like today it always did but she felt it more in this moment. She couldn’t quite figure out what Lyra was trying to say but knew she was rambling toward something of worth. She didn’t seem to fully get there leaving Liz unsure how to respond. Before she could Lyra had taken a swig from her flask. She was never one to rely on the bottle, drinking more socially than to deal with her pain but, man, did she want a drink now. She could easily see why most of Pines chose drink as their soother of choice.

Liz never really understood why people felt the need to hide a drinking habit from her, considering she had worked at the bar they frequented and often handed them their earlier drinks of the night she was more aware of who had a problem than people seemed to realise for some reason. She gave another sigh at Lyra’s last line. [color=DEB887]“I mean, there’s no reason you needed to be, I guess. It’s not like we were close by then.”[/color] Liz replies softly. She hoped Lyra wouldn’t take it the wrong way. [color=DEB887]“It’s not like you were doing it easy- or that I was really there for you.”[/color] Sure Liz had tried messaging and checking in but she could have done more, should have done more, she was sure of it.

Lyra heaved a heavy sigh. [color=92278f]”Is it really though?”[/color] It wasn’t fine. They both knew it wasn’t. Lyra couldn’t help but wonder how differently things might have gone had she just let Liz in during her time with Matthew. If she hadn’t slowly distanced herself and pushed Liz out of her life. Would she have gone off the deep end as hard as she had? Would she have been able to be there when Liz needed her? Hell, they probably wouldn’t be standing here now no better than awkward strangers grasping at straws.

[color=92278f]”Look… I-I don’t want to make excuses for myself,”[/color] Lyra started. Her anxiety was still sitting like a heavy weight in her stomach, but the heady feeling from the large swig she had taken from her flask was holding it at bay. For the moment. [color=92278f]”And maybe right here ain’t the place to do it, but do you think it’s maybe high time we sat down and talked? Like [i]really[/i] talked?”[/color]

Here really wasn’t the place for it. Too open and crowded, with the mass of people only getting thicker by the minute. She wasn’t about to open that can of worms right here right now. Lyra could practically feel in her bones how much that conversation would likely wreck her. Like ripping a band-aid off a wound that wasn’t healed. It had been years though. A few more years and it would have been a whole decade. At this point, if she was waiting to be healed before she talked to anyone it would never happen. The thought of going on like this for the rest of her sad life scared her about as much as the thought of talking about it.

Before Liz could have a chance to respond, the vendor whose stall they were standing next to called out to Lyra. [i]Well that’s some timing if I ever saw it[/i], Lyra thought to herself. Though she was grateful for the chance to step away, even just momentarily, to get her bearings. The guy at the stall handed her a tray with her fried turkey leg. Under different circumstances her mouth would have been salivating at the sight of it. She’d been dreaming of this thing all week after all. As it was though, she just grabbed hold of the tray and walked back over to Liz.

[color=92278f]”Anyway,”[/color] Lyra said, shifting her weight between her feet as a self-soothing gesture. She could do this. She owed Liz at least this much. [color=92278f]”I don’t know what you’ve got going on today, or even later this week… But… God, I don’t even know if I’m ready. I just want a chance - you know, to try and make things right between us. Or make things better, at least.”[/color]

Lyra looked down at her hands. The tips of her fingers had gone white from how hard she was gripping the tray. She took a steadying breath through her nose and loosened her grip enough for the color to come back into her fingertips. Then she looked back to Liz, afraid of both rejection and the possibility that Liz would grab hold of the olive branch she had offered.

In all honesty Liz was glad for the small gap in their conversation. It's not that she wanted Lyra away from her, quite the opposite, but having at least the beginnings of a deep conversation with her old friend brought out a swirl of emotions, a form of confusion being one of them. There was an odd polarisation to it. On one hand, Liz and Lyra were heavily out of touch and it showed in how little they knew about each other's lives and how long it took the conversation to be anything but awkward small talk. On the other hand, Liz couldn't deny that part of her naturally wanted to let Lyra in as if nothing had changed.

By the time Lyra had returned Liz had composed herself somewhat. At least to the point of not being on the verge of tears. [color=DEB887]“I'd like that but you're right, this isn't the time or place.”[/color] She hums to herself for a moment, looking up at the blue sky. [color=DEB887]“Are you working tomorrow? I'd offer tonight but I'll be out like a light the second I get home at this rate.“[/color]

[color=92278f]”No. I took the next few days off. Did you… I don’t know, want to come over? Or meet up at Husker’s or something? We could get lunch.”[/color] Yup. Okay. Lyra was going to have to talk about it. That was absolutely terrifying. But what was it they said? No pain, no gain, right?

But Lyra was also determined not to bail on this. It was part of the reason she had offered her place or Husker’s. She can’t run away if she’s at home, and there was nowhere else in town to get a steady supply of cold beer on tap. Besides… If anyone was going to hear anything about that whole thing, and actually understand her pain, it had to be Liz, right? Things between them weren’t so far gone that she’d hear Lyra’s story and just walk away. Things were bad between them, sure. 

She was starting to spiral again. It would take more than willpower to put a stop to the anxious swirling in her gut. She could at least stop her thoughts from rampaging down that path though. She just had to have faith that maybe, just maybe, she was finally making a right call here.

Not quite having caught wind of why Lyra may have offered the places she did Liz offers her a gentle smile as she makes an offer of her own. [color=DEB887]“You can come over to mine? I can put on a pot of coffee, brew some sweet tea, make us lunch, all that jazz? Sai'll be back here helping with the pack down so he won't be home if that'd be an issue.”[/color]

She tries to gauge Lyra's reaction. Was the discomfort written on her face the thought of their upcoming meeting or Liz’ offer? Liz didn't know. It was at that moment she realised her offer was based purely on where [i]she[/i] felt the most comfortable but there was no guarantee Lyra would. [i]Way to go[/i] she thought to herself before quickly jumping in to say, [color=DEB887]“Only if you'd like that of course! I don't mind coming to you or meeting at Husker's. Where… where would you be most comfortable?”[/color]

Lyra had honestly not expected that Liz would invite her over. To go to Liz’s place… That felt nostalgic in the worst way. Her heart panged at the thought of how many years had passed since the last time Lyra was there. Then there was the fact that going there meant losing the factor that would keep her accountable for showing up. Even with their friendship essentially faded away to almost nothing - Well, tea and lunch sounded nice.

She only thought about it a moment longer before making up her mind on the matter. [color=92278f]”Uh, yeah. We can meet at your place. Tea and lunch… That would be nice,”[/color] Lyra said hesitantly, giving Liz a small, uncertain smile. She laughed, and tried not to cringe when it sounded awkward even to her. [color=92278f]”It’ll be kinda like the good ol’ days.”[/color]

Lyra wanted to smack herself on the forehead as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She sounded so damn awkward. If this didn’t turn into some kind of disaster it would be nothing short of a miracle in her opinion. She was trying though. She was trying so hard. Even if this didn’t lead to them reconnecting, if Liz heard everything Lyra could bring herself to say and still thought she was an ass, Lyra wanted at least to do right by the ghost of their friendship. That, at least, was worth the awkwardness.

Liz was glad Lyra had taken her up on her offer of hosting their catch up. It put Liz in a spot that was at least a little more comfortable. [color=DEB887]“Just like old times…”[/color] the woman muses to herself. It was a little frightening thinking about them mimicking the old days with their regular lunches without persistent deep or fun conversation. Just them and the awkwardness. Then again maybe this was the best way to break the ice. 

She seems to mentally disappear for a moment as her mind wanders. She's soon reminded she's mid conversation and drags herself back to Earth. [color=DEB887]“I- uh- I have an appointment with Ellie at 10 so wanna do 1 just to be safe? I live on 389 Miner's st now”[/color] she offers. [color=DEB887]“I should leave you to your fried food-”[/color] Liz shifts her weight somewhat uncomfortably. What was the protocol here? A hug, a handshake, nothing? She opted to wait for Lyra to dictate how their goodbye went.

It was about to be over. Lyra wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but she couldn’t shake the thought that this conversation ending would bring her even closer to what was going to be their next one. The big kahuna so to say. Some of the bigger points of what had happened were no secret to anyone in town - And how could it be? It was easily one of, if not the biggest crime to be committed in Pines in the last decade. It had been in the papers. Probably on the news too, but Lyra had been too scared to turn on the TV for weeks following it. Too afraid of stumbling across it and having to relive it all over again.

She was still afraid. She could feel the fear as if it were caressing her skin with ice cold fingers. Waiting to wrap her in an all encompassing embrace. But she was okay. She just had to keep telling herself she was [i]okay[/i].

She took in a slow steadying breath. [color=92278f]”Yeah. That’ll work. I’ll, uh… I’ll text you when I’m on my way over.”[/color] A few seconds of silence hung heavy in the air between them, and Lyra was unsure how to disengage. She could just say ‘bye’, but that felt like too little all things considered. She could go for a side-hug… Or would that be too much? [color=92278f]”I’ll… See you tomorrow, then,”[/color] Lyra decided on saying. Maybe that was the best middle ground she could have hoped for. She gave Liz a nod, not trusting herself at the moment to remove a hand from the tray to give an actual wave, and made her escape. Her turkey leg was still steaming on the tray as she disappeared into the crowd to find herself a seat. Small mercies. It was just the comfort she needed right about now.[/color][/center]