#after the “agent” layer she sees like a shot of sunshine through her window the second third fourth layers

[clubsmarties]

"I don't mind." His head turned to look at her. "Seriously, I like that you have a sense of humor and are down to tease. I don't think I'd be able to stomach you if you didn't like to tease too." The long messages request made him laugh and roll his eyes. "Do it. I'll put those pictures up on my fridge." As it was his fridge was a collection of family pictures and ones that Matt had taken with the crew. It was almost like his hall of fame wall.

Wally smiled as he couldn't believe she had made yet another point. "Fair," he whispered. "A part of me wishes she wasn't so set in her ways but on the flip side of that coin I understand. You're right. She does love her home especially after she reclaimed it again." The ghosts of her past now mere shadows once she held her head up high taking back her beloved home. "Just miss her. Traveling isn't too bad but traveling with ten under ten becomes a little overwhelming."

"Oh okay," he still didn't believe her but laughed along with her. "I'm convinced. Listen, we'll start slow very slow. You'll meet at the stables and feed them. One step at a time. I don't think you'd be on one that same day but what do I know. You may end up surprising me. Not unusual to what you do every other day. A pony is cute and will follow you along. You and a pony, now that is adorable. Make sure to bring boots though."

He caught that and gave her a side eye look then tilted his head. There was a hint of something that colored her voice. "Oh God. Please no. Unless the dates are with you then I'm game. If not, no thank you. Small talk is annoying. Also you underestimate my ability to talk and talk. You got the special version." That didn't stop a smile from spreading. She had gotten him to feel comfortable to yap at her randomly. A beaming proud smile was shot in her direction as he nodded. "Oh, I know. You're the best at what you do. Why do you think I bring my homework to you." A clear joke just to make her smile.

That was interesting. It sounded like people he read in books. Someone who so easily could acclimate to their surroundings. He sometimes did that exact same thing for work but difference was that he played a character. Home, though he had two technically, in his heart when he thought of home, it was his beloved bayou. "That is interesting." Sometimes whatever he thought of rolled off his tongue. "Have you gotten that feeling yet? When you have gone back? What if you found that feeling in a person instead of a place? Makes the place better because of that person." Wally frowned slightly as he wondered why she did that. "It's not stupid. You know. Charlie and Anna and Orion are part of your tree. May not look like the traditional one but it's still roots and they're still growing. Family isn't just who you're related to." An eye roll at her statement and sighed in a laugh. "Narcissist entered the chat."

"He had two excuses. One was he tripped on a vine chasing a clown." He stopped and nodded. "True story though. Wild but true. And the second one he said he got drunk and hit the wall. I think he just didn't want to say he got into it with Jason. The boys do get clowned hardcore when it is something stupid and silly." He laughed knowing he did love to mess with her. "But I've never lied to you. Messing with you, sure. But never lied to you." A toothy grin showed on his face as he chuckled. "Come to think of it my left hand burned when I touched them. Same hand holy water stings on." As if he wanted to change her. "I have no complaints on your bossy nature. Not gonna hear me ever tell you to change." Her eye roll caused another one of his to show and smirked. "So if I hadn't brought you to a lighthouse, I'd have been asked out on the bed?"

Wally was just giving her a hard time but it was suffice to say he enjoyed making her laugh or smile. He'd take an eye roll too. "Dont worry about waking me. My internal clock will probably be up when you are." Remembering the times he had babysitting duties and four tiny humans climbed up on him to get him up and out of bed. He loved hearing her talk and if he could have her do so forever he would. As he turned onto her street he hummed. "That does sound beautiful. Yours is way better than why I like it."

"You're gonna laugh," he started as the laughter began to bubble. "It was second grade. It was the only class I didn't have with my sisters. I had taken a test and was in some bullshit percentile so got plucked from my classes with them and put into another. Didn't know anyone there and everyone looked at you funny even though they were all at the same level but anyway. The seats were colored so I happened to sit in the maroon section. I attached to that color because it was at the far left by the window and coincidentally where I could see my sisters from the next class. I hated all the other colors except maroon."

Guilt instantly ate her for teasing him like that, which she didn't understand why. Distance was exactly what she was looking for so why was she bumping his shoulder with his, playfully trying to make levity of this. The words were out of her mouth before she even realized they were coming out. "You know I'm just giving you a hard time but seriously, don't send me long messages. Unless they are important, I won't listen to the whole thing. But I'll also be sending you loads of photos of Dolly having fun without you."

It was obvious to anyone who interacted with this family, just how much they cared for each other. It was something that she contributed heavily to their mother and now she could also add stubbornness to the list. They all took up a lot from their mother. "Well, I think that's what happens when you find home, you know. And I don't mean like a house, but somewhere you can't imagine yourself ever leaving or coming back to, or away from just short periods of times. It's hard to find that. " Shrugging she added. "She loves her home, maybe small trips to acclimate to being around the grandchildren more might help."

There was a moment where she wanted to argue that waterboarding was a thing and that it was very much alive and a tool used on either side of the line but something in her didn't want to ruin this small moment in time. For whatever reason, she just wanted it to be. "I'm not scared of them!" Laughter laced her words. "I respect them, I know that they have their own minds and if they don't like you, they don't like you and have legs that can crush you." A small shudder ran through her. Broken bones and injuries she had experienced in the past paled in comparison to what she saw people suffer at the hands, paws, hoofs, of a wild animal. Well, maybe not, but she was in no hurry to find out. "Pony sounds good." A pony sounded safe, rich little girls always had ponies so if they could handle ponies she was sure she could too.

Of course his family had a list , there was something to be said about family. One that cared for each other, one that you you so much that they had list of qualities for someone to potentially be with you. It made her envious, she hated that feeling. It wasn't something that could be controlled though and she found herself muttering, "At least you had each other through it all." before she even processed it. Realizing how she sounded, she cleared her throat forcing herself to stop thinking, or feeling that way, wishing for things we can never have is pointless mi pequeñita, her stepmother echoed in her mind. "Will add to the list, I'm sure we can find you someone during our week. Or I can find someone while you're gone. Might come back to a week full of dates instead! I'm sure we'll find you someone just as great, if not better than your sisters husbands. One who understands and fills in everyone's criteria, promise, it's my job to find people. " She added the last part with a smile, a bit of pride in what she did. As much as she had fought the idea when Charlie came to her with it, she loved what she did now. Even if she never would admit it out loud.

Rolling her eyes at the sound of fate again, she shook her head at his apology. "No, its okay. Charlie said that he wanted me to tell Orion when I was ready because he was my dad, but I didn't know how. I was more focused on the responsibility aspect of it that it made me forget that he had already lost his birth mother. The kid already has gone through a lot. ," she chuckled. It was at this moment that he asked more about her dad and memories that she realized she was more open and honest than she had ever been. It made her hesitate. Then she shook it off, she was going to be gone soon enough once the office was up and running and she found someone to take it over. People had always been a revolving door in her life, what was one thing shared with someone she wouldn't see again. "Its not memories. I don't have any of it as as kid. Where ever we were he always called it home. So I just go to see if I ever feel about it the way your mom feels about Baton Rogue. A place I can't bare to think of leaving. Home." Her stepmothers voice rang in her head again and she shook the thought away with a small chuckle saying one last thing to let the subject drop. "It's stupid, though. I wouldn't know the first thing about it." Looking up towards the sky, her face scrunching slightly as if she was thinking really hard. "Narcissists exists, so them?"

Her imagination was already running wild at the thought of the celebration he was telling her about, wondering if she'd be around long enough to see it. Making a mental note to stay away from mazes if she was because who the hell thought it was a good idea to be trapped and scared at the same time? A shiver kept up her spine thinking about trying to find your way out of a maze while also avoiding people scaring you when she found herself laughing again. "Ah, yes the proverbial grapevine. What did you coworker say his blackeye was from? Defending someone's honor? Honestly that's what someone gets for scaring people, you never know when the three instincts of survival will pop up in someone." Always expect someone to hit you back or run, Charlie had told her when he began training her. Be prepared for both.

Her eyebrows knitted as she looked at him pointedly. "Because you like to bother and annoy me. So it's a little hard to not believe that you are just messing with me now." Then pretend shocked gasp, hand to the chest dramatically. "Colors?!?! Oh my god, did your hand burn when you touched them? Do I need to call the agency and let them know?" A self satisfied smirk at being called bossy, she lifted her right shoulder in a half shrug, head tilted slightly. "Good, cuz there's nothing you can do about that." Never in her life did she ever think she’d roll her eyes as much as she did when she was around Wally. “What are we six?” Settling in, she added. “Of course I’m taking my bed back. I’m just being nice because you brought me to a lighthouse.” Okay, stop being so standoffish something in her told her, she was after all in his sweater, in his car after he took her somewhere she liked after getting them dinner. “I just don’t want to wake you in the morning when the Holden’s get there. It’s just one time. Then you’re back on the guest couch spot.” She was tired. “I don’t know why. It’s not that bright and it’s a really nice color.” Hands in the sweater pocket, she burrowed into it as she watched things zip by out her car door window. “When I was small, we went to Maroon Bells in Colorado. I don’t remember much but I remember how pretty it was and how maroon was a gorgeous color because my dad said it is the perfect blend of red and brown. The lake had these beautiful different shades of color and I remember just falling in love with it thinking it was the perfect color to capture it all. Especially the color at the bottom of the lake, the dirt, clay, earth, water, the sun shining down on it. It was beautiful.” That was just a couple of months before he was taken from her, with a sigh she just let it end there as she placed her head on the cold window. "Why do you like it?" If she refocused all this attention back to him she wouldn't wallow in those thoughts.

[therecoveringlawyer]

No, no, after you.

I arrived at the airport with plenty of time, an anomaly for my frenetic, always-ten-minutes-late way of scrambling through life. Neither two minutes late (excusable), nor twenty minutes late (apathetic), but ten minutes late; I was always ten minutes late… which, to me, screams pathetically of wanting, yet constantly failing, to be on time. I strolled up to my gate to find boarding had just begun. With atypical calmness, I curiously analyzed human nature as the boarding classes were announced. I was in boarding group 5, and I watched as the folks from in my group hovered like salivating hyenas around writhing roadkill, waiting for the beep of the boarding pass from last person in group 4. Right on cue, I was caught up in the group 5 stampede pushing toward the gate-agent bottleneck. Out of nowhere appeared two women, cutting in line from the side, with complete disregard for the queue forming from the back. I don’t know what got into me in that moment, but I promptly decided I would hold my ground. One of the two women managed to sneak in front of me, and I pretended not to notice the matching white pants, curled hair, and weekend eye makeup of her friend directly behind her. Undoubtedly heading to a girls weekend or a bachelorette party, they were dressed almost identically. I could hear their phone conversation the night before: “Ugh, what are you going to wear on the plane?” One would ask the other, while staring forlornly into her closet, lamenting the serious lack of options. Nevertheless, I pretended I didn’t realize they were traveling together and proceeded to very closely follow woman number one down the jetway. Woman number two followed me almost as closely, and I could feel her palpable disdain as we walked briskly to the plane. I don’t know what possessed me to assert my place in an arbitrary pecking order in the first place, but there I was, with my chin jutted out, actively readjusting my ponytail as I walked, tossing my head just such that my long hair threatened to hit woman number two squarely across the face if she got too close. I started to feel guilty for my Desperate Housewives behavior right about the time the first woman started talking, thinking her twin-friend was right behind her. She turned around, expecting to see her friend, and instead found me, right on her tail. I saw my opportunity. “Oh! Are you two traveling together?” I feigned and stopped abruptly. “Please, go ahead,” I motioned to the woman behind me. She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she passed. Her friend gave me a little smirk and a tight-lipped “thanks.” As we boarded, the two discussed who would take the middle seat for this flight, and I watched like a hawk as the overhead bin space filled up suitcase by suitcase. It was a small plane, and I have one of those roll-aboards that sometimes only fits horizontally in the overhead compartment, taking up two spaces. It’s the luggage equivalent of the morbidly obese person who refuses to buy two plane tickets. Though usually sheepish about this situation, I indignantly hoisted my over-packed suitcase horizontally into the bin above and watched out of the corner of my eye as the two women slid into the window and middle seats of my assigned row. “How funny,” woman number one muttered as I slunk into my aisle seat. I returned a plastic smile and remarked a little too loudly, “well that worked out well.” Woman number two, positioned in the middle seat, said nothing. They dropped their heads and began whispering to one another, and in that moment, I wished I had made the time to put on makeup this morning. Immediately self-conscious of my messy ponytail and Lululemon workout attire, I knew without hesitation that I would trade the leisurely cadence of my morning and accept a sweaty, breathless arrival at my gate, if only it meant under-eye concealer, a brow pencil and some gloss. There is the shame of bad behavior, and then there is the shame of bad behavior compounded by the inability to fake confidence behind a mask of contouring bronzer and mascara. Sighing, I indulged in the only escape available and popped in my headphones.

As the drink cart arrived, I contemplated my opportunity to make amends. Perhaps I should buy their bloody marys, I considered. If we had been in college, or even graduate school, I would have popped for a round of shots, knowing almost all bad behavior can be excused by the acknowledgement and apology that comes from picking up a tab. We were the only people in our immediate area drinking on a Friday morning, so our flight attendant, a decent-looking man, who wore the same cologne as one of my boyfriends from my early twenties, engaged us in playful banter. Clearly, he mistakenly believed I was the brunette friend of the trio. “All together?” he asked, credit card machine in hand, and time stopped for a brief moment while I considered my options. The girls had ordered an assortment of cocktails, adding coffee with baileys to their bloody-Mary repertoire. It would be a pricey repentance. At the same time, I watched woman number one scrunch up her face as she momentarily considered just adding my glass of rose to their extensive bill. “What’s one more drink?” I could see her ask herself, willing to forgive my transgressions so as not to inconvenience our flight attendant. “No, no, mine is separate,” I insisted, smiling at woman number one and momentarily redeeming myself by doing what should have been done in the first place. I imagined the woman thinking to herself, “Maybe she’s alright after all,”as the flight attendant ran my credit card for $7.00 and handed me a tiny plastic bottle of bright pink wine. I basked in the moment of imaginary acceptance. Drinks in hand, the women and I engaged in a brief exchange, wherein I learned they were on a self-described “adult spring break” for the start of training camp. They politely asked me if I too was headed for a weekend of sunshine and baseball. “No, just meeting friends in Santa Fe,” I responded, immediately recognizing the flash of surprise in their eyes that a bitch like me could actually have friends. “And not just any friends,” I wanted to tell them, “but friends who would drive six hours to see me.” We smiled forcibly at each other. The conversation dwindled awkwardly, and I picked up my phone, foregoing my headphones in case they got drunk enough to engage me in conversation. I couldn’t help but listen to their bloody-Mary fueled discussion with remorse and a little bit of envy. They actually sounded like the type of women I would be friends with. I let my imagination envision an entirely different morning, one where I kept my cool, unfazed by the two women cutting in line, and took my place in the aisle seat of their pack, casually striking up a conversation that would lead to lasting friendship. Women can be strange and fickle creatures. The irony was that I, too, was headed to my own girls weekend. Earlier that morning, my girlfriends, who would be driving to our destination while I was (obviously) flying, asked what additional clothes I wanted them to bring on my behalf. Headed for what we had assumed would be a poolside weekend when we had booked it, would actually require multiple layers and down jackets. My friends, arguable quite twin-ish themselves, were en route, undoubtedly sans makeup, with messy ponytails, and donned in Lululemon. It was a routine landing and people began filing off of the plane row by row. I exited my aisle seat and took a step backward, the signal in the universal language of travel for “after you.” 

Seconds passed and woman number two looked at me from the aisle seat, her eyes gleaming in triumph, as she tighten her ponytail and said through pursed lips, “No, please, go ahead.”