RP: Circular Reasoning
Date: Thursday, 8 Dec 2011
Characters: Nora Price
Location: Oddball 42
Status: Private
Summary: The end of the workday, but the thoughts continue.
Completion: Complete
She started to close down the store the way she always did. Laughingly coaxed the stragglers to the register, helping them out with their bags. Flipped the sign on the door, and set the lock, resisting the urge to lean against the glass and heave a sigh of relief. Started picking up the small piles of magazines and comic books, and straightening the shelves -- customers were the same everywhere! Put the chairs back in their places, and went to go close up the back rooms.
It was all rote at this point, and some days, Nora could find comfort in routines to ground herself. That no matter what happened during the day, evenings were always the same. A series of dance steps she could do in her sleep now. And it felt good to know that she still had the touch, still knew how to put a place to rights before she left.
The dance was a little different, though, with Jay gone. Not that she hadn't closed up shop for him before, when the weather had given him hell, or he'd had to go somewhere. Some nights, Max had come to help; others, she'd been on her own. It had been kind of cozy, really, Nora thought as she picked up various crumpled papers from the gaming table -- just her in the shop, putting everything to rights and locking the door behind her to go home. She threw them out, sat the chairs back in their places, and headed to the other room, hoping the group hadn't left as much trash as they had last week; she'd had to give the leader a piece of her mind, if only a small one, which had made things a little awkward today when they came to play. Peeking in, she breathed a small sigh, glad to see they'd cleaned after themselves except for the chairs everywhere. Those were easily enough set to rights...
Unlike other things. She didn't have answers, just questions, and it was beginning to frustrate her. That Jay had left Max instructions, the code to the safe, and a letter that left so many things unspoken -- that she knew, from when Max had come in to talk to her the day he'd gotten it. They were easier around each other now, though he still looked at her funny when she got excited and talkative, and she longed to poke him sometimes and ask him questions about what he was like when he was actually really comfortable around someone. Like Jay. And didn't it all come back to him in the end? It wasn't the fact that he'd left with just a note that truly bothered her, she admitted silently as she went back up to the front and opened the till to take it back to the office. It was the fact that he just seemed to think he could leave, and there wouldn't be any effects. That Max would be fine running the store in his stead. That she would keep working there.
He hadn't even included a line about her. Just a short set of quasi-instructions for Max, and that was it. And it was appropriate for the new owner to have those things; she wouldn't quibble with that. But the fact that apparently his tiny Igor, who'd gone to Dragon*Con with him, who'd made him laugh and tried to help where she could...she hadn't even rated a mention. Not a breath, not a word. Not even a "please tell Nora goodbye for me." Max had squirmed about that, poor man, but he couldn't help it; what could he have done? And while she was used to getting brush-offs, that hadn't been what irked her -- it was the fact that he'd called her his friend, and then not even tried to say "goodbye." She'd checked her mail hopefully for days, even called the post office when a week had gone by and nothing showed.
Nothing.
Maybe it'd been she'd only known him about ten months, and Max had known him for years. Been Jay's best friend for years, practically family. But he hadn't even left Max any answers, which she knew didn't sit well at all with him. Didn't your family deserve some kind of closure?
But what did she know, Nora told herself as she leaned her elbows on the work-desk and put her head in her hands. She was mixed-up and confused, and the fact that it might never get any kind of resolution was needling at her. At least with Michael, she could get closure from the fact that he'd moved on and found someone else to marry. With Jay, she couldn't find out if there'd been something more she could do, or something less she should have done, or if it had nothing to do with her at all. She would have liked to think she didn't even figure into things, but the idea that he could call her a friend, but not even try to say goodbye...kind of galled her, really, she thought as she lifted her head and pulled out the calculator to start counting the drawer. Not a "thanks for your work" or a "it was nice to know you." Not even a "take care." Just what seemed to be the silent assumption that she'd just keep on going as she had been, even though their conversations had grown fewer and fewer, and when he was in the store, he'd been distracted and often irritable. She'd chalked it up to the weather, to Bri leaving, to pain he didn't want to talk about to her. She'd hoped he'd talked to Max, or to other friends that maybe he trusted better, because he'd put the kibosh on any of her (increasingly fewer) efforts to draw it out. And she'd tried to show him that she cared about him as her friend: bringing him food, coaxing him out to go places, calling him some nights after work to let him know the shop was closed up, and hey, so a funny thing happened right before I tossed everyone out...
She didn't think there was anything else she could have done, she tried to point out to the corner of her heart that couldn't help but be insulted. In the end, if his best friend couldn't help, then what could a tiny little employee have done better? Even a tiny little employee who'd begun to think of herself as his friend.
"Well, sitting here and thinking in circles isn't going to do any sort of good, so just stop," she said after a moment, forcing her voice to stay strong and stern. Putting up a façade helped others, so she could pretend for herself too. She hoped. Well, she had to, so there was nothing else to be done.
Nora sighed, starting the count again with the twenty-dollar-bills.
Characters: Nora Price
Location: Oddball 42
Status: Private
Summary: The end of the workday, but the thoughts continue.
Completion: Complete
She started to close down the store the way she always did. Laughingly coaxed the stragglers to the register, helping them out with their bags. Flipped the sign on the door, and set the lock, resisting the urge to lean against the glass and heave a sigh of relief. Started picking up the small piles of magazines and comic books, and straightening the shelves -- customers were the same everywhere! Put the chairs back in their places, and went to go close up the back rooms.
It was all rote at this point, and some days, Nora could find comfort in routines to ground herself. That no matter what happened during the day, evenings were always the same. A series of dance steps she could do in her sleep now. And it felt good to know that she still had the touch, still knew how to put a place to rights before she left.
The dance was a little different, though, with Jay gone. Not that she hadn't closed up shop for him before, when the weather had given him hell, or he'd had to go somewhere. Some nights, Max had come to help; others, she'd been on her own. It had been kind of cozy, really, Nora thought as she picked up various crumpled papers from the gaming table -- just her in the shop, putting everything to rights and locking the door behind her to go home. She threw them out, sat the chairs back in their places, and headed to the other room, hoping the group hadn't left as much trash as they had last week; she'd had to give the leader a piece of her mind, if only a small one, which had made things a little awkward today when they came to play. Peeking in, she breathed a small sigh, glad to see they'd cleaned after themselves except for the chairs everywhere. Those were easily enough set to rights...
Unlike other things. She didn't have answers, just questions, and it was beginning to frustrate her. That Jay had left Max instructions, the code to the safe, and a letter that left so many things unspoken -- that she knew, from when Max had come in to talk to her the day he'd gotten it. They were easier around each other now, though he still looked at her funny when she got excited and talkative, and she longed to poke him sometimes and ask him questions about what he was like when he was actually really comfortable around someone. Like Jay. And didn't it all come back to him in the end? It wasn't the fact that he'd left with just a note that truly bothered her, she admitted silently as she went back up to the front and opened the till to take it back to the office. It was the fact that he just seemed to think he could leave, and there wouldn't be any effects. That Max would be fine running the store in his stead. That she would keep working there.
He hadn't even included a line about her. Just a short set of quasi-instructions for Max, and that was it. And it was appropriate for the new owner to have those things; she wouldn't quibble with that. But the fact that apparently his tiny Igor, who'd gone to Dragon*Con with him, who'd made him laugh and tried to help where she could...she hadn't even rated a mention. Not a breath, not a word. Not even a "please tell Nora goodbye for me." Max had squirmed about that, poor man, but he couldn't help it; what could he have done? And while she was used to getting brush-offs, that hadn't been what irked her -- it was the fact that he'd called her his friend, and then not even tried to say "goodbye." She'd checked her mail hopefully for days, even called the post office when a week had gone by and nothing showed.
Nothing.
Maybe it'd been she'd only known him about ten months, and Max had known him for years. Been Jay's best friend for years, practically family. But he hadn't even left Max any answers, which she knew didn't sit well at all with him. Didn't your family deserve some kind of closure?
But what did she know, Nora told herself as she leaned her elbows on the work-desk and put her head in her hands. She was mixed-up and confused, and the fact that it might never get any kind of resolution was needling at her. At least with Michael, she could get closure from the fact that he'd moved on and found someone else to marry. With Jay, she couldn't find out if there'd been something more she could do, or something less she should have done, or if it had nothing to do with her at all. She would have liked to think she didn't even figure into things, but the idea that he could call her a friend, but not even try to say goodbye...kind of galled her, really, she thought as she lifted her head and pulled out the calculator to start counting the drawer. Not a "thanks for your work" or a "it was nice to know you." Not even a "take care." Just what seemed to be the silent assumption that she'd just keep on going as she had been, even though their conversations had grown fewer and fewer, and when he was in the store, he'd been distracted and often irritable. She'd chalked it up to the weather, to Bri leaving, to pain he didn't want to talk about to her. She'd hoped he'd talked to Max, or to other friends that maybe he trusted better, because he'd put the kibosh on any of her (increasingly fewer) efforts to draw it out. And she'd tried to show him that she cared about him as her friend: bringing him food, coaxing him out to go places, calling him some nights after work to let him know the shop was closed up, and hey, so a funny thing happened right before I tossed everyone out...
She didn't think there was anything else she could have done, she tried to point out to the corner of her heart that couldn't help but be insulted. In the end, if his best friend couldn't help, then what could a tiny little employee have done better? Even a tiny little employee who'd begun to think of herself as his friend.
"Well, sitting here and thinking in circles isn't going to do any sort of good, so just stop," she said after a moment, forcing her voice to stay strong and stern. Putting up a façade helped others, so she could pretend for herself too. She hoped. Well, she had to, so there was nothing else to be done.
Nora sighed, starting the count again with the twenty-dollar-bills.