Marigold

People were, Brandon had learned through hard-won experience, generally a nuisance; what little they could offer him, be it money, or power, or clout (though he didn’t find he much desired that) wasn’t often worth the price of having to interact with them. As such, he’d been holed up either at home (or the station, when Cosette needed what she referred to as personal space but what seemed something more akin to just being left the fuck alone, which Brandon could respect, if not appreciate), plugging away on any leads he had for Madison Redding and generally keeping his head above water just long enough to keep from sinking into the bureaucracy of what the law allowed versus what he wanted to do. But tonight, Cosette had made her annoyance toward him abundantly clear, and the station wasn’t necessarily inspiring any sort of breakthrough as of late, so he decided to venture out into the public after something of a sabbatical for some coffee and a piece of pie, plunking himself down in a corner booth at the diner and working through his notebook to attempt to connect some dots of the case.

This was, he quickly learned, a mistake.

Feeling eyes boring into him, Brandon finally took a sip of coffee without looking up, chasing it with, “Whatever you wanna ask, or whatever you gotta say, I’d suggest just doing it.” Before I lose my patience, he omitted, having a tenuous grasp on that as it was.

She had tried to explain this to Harriet time and time again. Marigold didn’t have some sort of intimate inside line into Brandon Wolfe. He didn’t let down his gruff intimidating exterior with her, they weren’t close friends. The man had this way of being passively kind, making it feel more accidental than intentional. Like he was simply too tired to put in the work it would take to be actively unkind but that didn’t make her special or trusted. But Harriet was a dog with a bone, a dog with a whole skeleton at the back of her mind and she wasn’t going to let up until Marigold gave her something.

When he addresses her without looking up she almost loses her nerve. She didn’t follow him here, her own piece of pie half finished and her coffee half drunk before he’d entered. But it was an opportunity she had to take advantage of. “Could you stand some company?” she queried gently. “My seat was offering me nothing but sun in the eyes.”

Please say yes. Please say no. 

Marigold doesn’t know how to do this. She doesn’t know how to be secretive, dishonest. So she focuses on what she can say honestly. “You look tired, how late were you at the department last night?”

location: Grimmbrook University Campus open to: anyone!

The car wash idea had been an ingenious idea on Sophia’s part, and for that, Ida was grateful. Every adjunct summer professor and stray, empathetic summer student was willing to get their variety of vehicles washed in the name of a good cause, which had kept Ida busy for most of the morning. The early afternoon break was a welcome reprieve, and Ida gulped some water as the early summer sun shined down on her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted an approaching vehicle, and waved them over to her emphatically as she finished off her water bottle.

“Hi there!” She chirped excitedly, setting her water bottle down and perching her hands on her hips. “So cars are ten, trucks are fifteen. All the proceeds are going to help Underland residents displaces by the mist.” It was an all-too-well rehearsed speech she’d perfected over the course of the morning. “Are you interested?”

Hazel had been fighting her mid morning naps. The only solution was to put her in the car and drive around aimlessly. The six month old was out cold in her car seat, little rosebud lips parted with soft breaths, and Marigold had treated herself to an extra large iced coffee. Pulling out of the drive thru window she’d spotted the signs for the car wash. She’d donated and volunteered for a few groups putting together donations of canned goods, clothes for displaced Underlanders, but she was a bleeding heart. It was never enough. There was always more that could be done.

“I’m absolutely interested,” she answered, offering a ten and a five out the driver’s side window. Technically she didn’t have a truck, but she figured her SUV was a little more work than a sedan and she wanted to give. “Are you getting a lot of takers? It’s the perfect weather for this so you’ve got that on your side.”

open// location; the golden goose gym

“Ugh, what?” Drake muttered over his open textbook on the front desk of The Golden Goose, rubbing his forehead a little. It had been quiet all afternoon, which was rather lucky for him. Despite the fact he was supposed to be working and there was another local Grimmbook crisis going on in his old neck of the woods, he still had a test next week. A test which, for the life of him, he was never going to do well on if he couldn’t start nailing one of the more infuriating topics it was supposed to cover. 

Genetics.  

It had been fun and interesting when it had just been birds and rabbits and the occasional sheep, but humans were a whole other confusing ball-field and Drake honestly couldn’t be bothered to care how he’d ended up with brown eyes instead of green. No desperate google search on the cracked screen of his phone had helped either. He groaned lightly, about to fall face first into the frustrating embrace of pages 101 and 102 when the door to the gym opened. 

Thank god, honestly. 

“Hey, how can I help you?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Garrett had been fit, he’d gone to this gym at least twice a week while he’d been alive. His family was bred on vanity and he’d believed that he would lose some part of himself if he didn’t have abs and a constantly evolving bench pressing number. Marigold had always been intimidated by the gym. She was a bike ride person, a morning jog person, a take the stars instead of the elevator person. Workouts intimidated her. But a change of heart had been taking her over the past few weeks, with everything going on all of her usual energy habits were failing to cut back on the tension building beneath her muscles. Something different. She needed something different.

Her eyes moved from his book, the glazed over disinterest in his eyes right before he addressed her, to the wall of free weights that she very strongly felt was not the place for her. “Hi. The website said you guys have classes. Um...are there any like beginner beginner kickboxing classes? Like for people who want to punch something but need serious assistance with hand-eye coordination?” She begins second guessing, flustered embarrassment making her fidget with her keys. “Or maybe I should do the yoga class. Or zumba...what the heck is zumba anyway? Is it just a rebranding of those dance routine aerobics workouts my mom used to do?”

“I can’t wait to watch her grow up. She’s going to be an amazing kid. I mean, she already is, but imagine when she starts talking and running around. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to handle that, but I’m excited.” She couldn’t even begin to imagine how it’d feel to watch a child of her own grow before her eyes. It seemed like something she wanted eventually, but her lack of commitment made such a thing nearly impossible for the time being. For now, she was more than fine with being the aunt someone adored. “I love her. I love both of you. I couldn’t imagine my life without the world’s cutest baby and best mother. Seriously, I’m the lucky one here.”

Teaching music was the only thing that kept her sane on most days. She could focus on helping others through something she adored and it required little to no effort. She could do something she loved while helping others develop a love for it too. “I try,” she shrugged, feeling a heavy push of emotion fill her chest. “I try to see everyone that wants to make a difference with music. It’s what my mother would’ve wanted from me,” she nodded, swallowing down the painful reminder that her mother was no longer around. No matter how many days that passed, it never got easier to say aloud. “Plus, I’m always learning from everyone that shows up. I don’t think I’ll ever be done learning.”

Of course next month was going to be hard, not to mention the underlying stressors with the mist to make matters worse. “I’m here,” she assured, offering a gentle smile the other’s way. “I can be here anytime you need me. Just call. Seriously, I’ll always be available for you.” She knew how heavy the year mark had been for herself and while she wouldn’t dare compare their pain, she knew that she wanted to be there if needed. “Does he live close by? Have you met him yet? You’ve got to give me all the details,” she pleaded playfully, though her voice was nothing but soft. “If he makes you happy, then he’s got to be a good guy.”

~~~~~~~~

“She already has so much personality. I just, everything she does is magic and I just fall apart. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to be blessed with her.” Everything is bittersweet, that combination of joy for her own place in Hazel’s life and the sense of that empty space where Garret should be. But they aren’t alone, her and Hazel. No, they’ve had Raya and so many others since the beginning, their family is wide and shimmering and unique, and Marigold feels full to bursting with gratitude. “We love you. I seriously...Raya I don’t think I could have gotten to this point without you. You give me the strength I need to be the best mother. I will never be able to repay you for how much you’ve given to Hazel and I.”

You learn to live with grief, side by side. Not controlled by it but also aware that you aren’t in control of the moments where its tides rise and swallow you up. She instinctively reached out to soothe the swell of emotion in her friend’s voice. You never stop missing people. It never stops hurting. “She’s so proud of you. I don’t know a lot of things but I know that. She’s so proud of the way you love people, the openness of your heart, the melodies create with people. I’m proud of you too my Raya of Sunshine.” 

And now her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Okay I....this is going to be weird. This is going to sound weird. But I met him online. I don’t really know his name. I know that he lives here in Grimmbrook but we don’t...we kinda avoid explicit details that might identify us. I call him Con...it’s like a little nickname I made based off his screename. And he’s...he’s got this way of making me feel calm and steady, even if he’s being chaotic or tense. He’s smart. He’s so smart, he loves computer and tech stuff. He’s a really good listener, even if he doesn’t understand why I’m upset he does his best to tell me it’s going to be okay. And I just...I like him. A lot. We talk every night, like my day doesn’t feel complete without him in it, I sleep better after I’ve talked to him.”

“I think that whole department has it out for me,” He shrugged, figuring that they just liked to be on his ass about everything. Sam sighed as she spoke about her kid and not being two parents, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. It doesn’t matter how many parents she has, one can love just as much as two. I mean, I grew up without my parents pretty much. And yeah, I’m not a model citizen but your kid will be,” He knew Hazel had a better chance than he did, “Some kids get two shitty parents. But yours has one amazing parent. So I think that’s worth even more than two if you ask me.” 

“Mari! Hi babe,” she smiled embracing the woman. “You look so good. I love this dress on you.” Isabel had found Marigold to be a breath of fresh air. She was just such a beautiful and pure soul to be around and the Dumas was just grateful to have befriended her. “How are you? How’s Hazel doing?” It had been sometime with life getting in the way and what seemed like the constant havoc that was wrecking the town. Isabel was just glad they finally had time to get together over a meal. “Catch me up on everything!”  @marigoldilocks

consciencebeyourguide: It is.

consciencebeyourguide: I've been working on something for you.

consciencebeyourguide: oh I'm terrible at gardening, but my mom had one when I was little. It was very small, but it was nice.

consciencebeyourguide: maybe I can hear you play sometime.

consciencebeyourguide: gardening is nice. as is violin.

consciencebeyourguide: do you still play?

marinicol: I was not good at outside gardening. I can keep a few easy house plants alive but I tried to plant in the ground I lost track of what plants needed what kind of soil or lighting and killed them all.

consciencebeyourguide: what sort of hobbies have you done?

marinicol: I've tried gardening, Violin, Pottery, Skating, Knitting, Crocheting, I tried to get into jewelry making but that ended fast, I was into collecting rocks and crystals for a while, got really into astrology for a year.

consciencebeyourguide: Seriously coding? a project I worked on in undergrad. I knew I was interested in it before that though. I just didn't really set my sights towards anything important until then.

consciencebeyourguide: the best coding is done in the evening.

consciencebeyourguide: such as?

consciencebeyourguide: well you need sleep.

consciencebeyourguide: if you need to talk it out more, I could stay up with you though. I'll be up anyways.

marinicol: Like you're not a night owl that's up long after I go to bed anyway. :)

consciencebeyourguide: money does weird things to people.

consciencebeyourguide: that all sounds very stressful.

marinicol: Yeah it's...it's not been a good day.

consciencebeyourguide: that doesn't matter though! how much money you have doesn't determine whether or not you're a good parent.

consciencebeyourguide: my parents were of modest means and they were great. they took me in and were so good to me and it had nothing to do with how much they could spend.

marinicol: I know that and you know that. But sometimes in families that have an insane amount of wealth passed through generations they get so caught up in dollar signs and legacies. My husband wanted to step back from all that and his family blamed me, they felt like I was a wedge that separated him from them.