love with no place to go

He must have been in the record store for the better part of an hour when the old-school bed above the door chimed, marking another entrance. He was fully entrenched in his own world, happily flipping through vinyls until something caught his eye. It wasn’t music, but instead, a presence he felt even before he saw it out of more than his peripheral. There she was: resplendent, lovely, completely the same. Not that she might have changed, but Isaac had been respectful in keeping his distance from the Miller clan, which meant that stolen glances or moments of longing had been stifled. But now, by chance alone, they found themselves in the same place, beyond the walls of Temple Beth-El, out in the real world again. Clearing his throat, Isaac looked to Naomi with a genuine smile. “I suppose it’s simply time to surrender the concept that I can out into the world undiscovered.” He released the vinyl stack he’d been propping up, letting them fall back into their rightful place, resting at a slight angle. “Not that it’s not nice to see you. It’s actually extremely lovely to see you.”

She’d been considering getting a cheap-ish turntable for her daughters, now that Dahlia and Marigold were showing an interest in the vinyl collection she’d built with Peter. Something just for them, that they would have to take care of on their own, and with a few of their own albums to play when they wanted. She had wandered over to the pop selection, perusing the offerings, when she caught a familiar mop of hair from the corner of her eye. She focused her gaze on the record in front of her, unsure if Isaac would even want to acknowledge her, until he cleared his throat and Naomi was forced to fully face him outside of temple for the first time. He looked exactly as handsome as she’d remembered, and his smile was still just as disarming as it had been the first time he’d directed it her way. “I -- it’s nice to see you,” she agreed, her voice softer than she’d intended it to be. “Are you, um, looking for anything in particular?” she asked, seeking a safe topic of discussion, one that wouldn’t be emotionally charged. “Or just killing time like I am?”

CLOSED START FOR: @nataliedawson​ & naomi miller LOCATION: isla jean’s home, humboldt hills

One of the perks of having a large yard was the ability to set up tents and let Frankie and Naomi’s girls camp out under the stars while still in close proximity. But more than that, it enabled Isla Jean, Naomi, and the addition of Natalie, Isla Jean was happy to have a night with Frankie happily preoccupied and with her friends and Isla Jean able to simply relax. She hadn’t glanced at her phone since the girls had come over, but was certain Kevin was surviving an evening without her all the same. Finishing her task of grabbing another bottle of rosé from the fridge, Isla Jean made her way back for the living room where the other two women were situated, snapping off the twist-cap to tend to everyone’s glasses.

“I don’t hear any more giggling, so I’d say those gremlins are passed out right about now.” She stated with a smile as the wine sloshed into Natalie’s glass, and then Naomi’s. “Which also means it’s the safest it’s ever been to start grilling one another.”

-

Natalie had always been a bit of a loner, so to be in the company of other woman, especially now, was a welcome reprieve from the norm. Most of the time, she sat back and watched Isla Jean and Naomi carry on, interested more in the happenings of their lives than her own, fascinated to see how they managed to balance everything. She was not interested in deviating from that norm tonight, and, as she brought her wine glass back toward her, careful not to spill any of Isla Jean’s generous pour, she shook her head. “Grilling one another, huh?” She smirked, bemused by the way Isla Jean’s face lit up at the prospect of gossip, then took a sip of her wine while she plucked a cheese square from the charcuterie board she’d brought. She’d never been particularly adept at girl talk, but she was feeling a bit less restrained with the help of their bottle(s) of wine, and it helped to oil the machination of her mind in a way that made everything seem a bit easier. She rested back into the couch. “Please, regale me with your romantic exploits. I’m going to live vicariously through the two of you.”

location. Delish on 5th

“—with swiss cheese, and um, the spicy mustard, please.” Having finished ordering his sandwich, Kevin turned to the person behind him in line, and added, “And whatever they’re getting. My treat.” It was one of the rare half days where he, too, could leave early — at least to grab lunch — and Kevin had an extra spring in his step for the excuse to deviate from his usual weekday lunch of leftovers. If he could pass a little of that happiness on to others, he would, for friend or stranger alike.

Summer had granted Natalie an expanse of time with which she could do whatever she’d wanted, and what she’d wanted to do, more than anything, was run. With her grandparents emphatic permission–and the assurance they’d be cared for by a few neighbors–she left. New York for a couple of weeks, revisiting old haunts and older friends, and then off to Greece for nearly a month, where she holed up in her rental home, drinking wine and listening to music too loud, sunbathing during the crystalline clear days and chasing away her yearning each evening, sometimes filling the void with a warm body but always regretting it.  Once again unmoored, Natalie had been forced to reconcile with her oppressive loneliness, the ache that couldn’t ever seem to be resolved. She hadn’t changed at all, hadn’t felt better for the time spent there. So while she wouldn’t venture as far as to say she was glad to be back in Eureka, she knew that, ultimately, her return was an inevitability–and if there was one thing Natalie knew well, it was that there was no point in delaying the inevitable. 

With the dwindling summer in its twilight, she was keen to spend the rest of her truly free time doing whatever pleased her. She’d ended up dawdling around town after an impromptu lunch trip had led her on a sort of scavenger hunt for more bursts of temporary joy, and, after a trip the theatre where she’d spent most of the movie crying in the dark, she’d finally ended up at the mercantile. She knew she didn’t need anything for the new place, of course, but was not intent on dissuading herself should something pique her interest. Basket hanging from her arm, she headed toward a display of homewares, eyes trained on an interesting light fixture. She was captivated by it, but couldn’t determine the attraction; as someone came beside her to survey the same wares, she weighed the potential annoyance of asking them their opinion, before deciding it wasn’t insurmountable. “Is this great, or is it hideous? I am having a genuinely hard time deciding.” 

“Are you trying to find a new light fixture? What kind of room is it for? That can help narrow down your options,” Naomi mentioned to the brunette. “And also what you intend to use the room for. You wouldn’t put a chandelier in a workout room. Well, I guess you could, but still,” she added quickly. “Plus, I’ll be honest with you.” Naomi leaned in and dropped her voice a bit so as to not be overheard. “Between you and me, the outlet on the other side of town has a much better selection and price. Here’s a good place to get ideas, but ... they’re not really worth the cost.” Perhaps the other woman didn’t want shopping advice, but maybe she did. And the costs of a home redecoration could add up quickly. Unless the woman was an employee of the store ... in which case this would likely be the last time Naomi shopped here. 

Isla Jean didn’t quite know how to take Frankie’s newfound ire for her and any peace offering she tried to make. There had been a brief detente any time Cyrus came around, his typical endearing efforts paving the way for some peace in the Elkins-King residence. But when it was just the two of them, Frankie was… Confused. Angry. Upset. It was difficult to process that her mother was seeing someone new, particularly when, in Frankie’s eyes, her father had been the very best, so no one could possibly hope to compete. Not that it had been Isla Jean’s intention for Frankie to know quite so quickly that Isla Jean was dating — but the cards had been dealt, and Isla Jean was picking up the pieces. 

Which meant that she was wrapping herself in a blanket, settled on the porch swing with Naomi, both women taking in the evening air with some wine. Their girls were passed out upstairs after a rager of a sleepover, which granted Isla Jean a little bit of reprieve from her daughter’s disappointing stare. “You and the girls were a total lifesaver tonight.” Isla Jean stated with a note of gratitude. “I’m persona non grata with Frankie at the moment.” She added with a contemplative stare cast into the night sky. “And I’ll admit, we’re both a little strong-willed to solve it between ourselves. Cyrus has been playing knight in shining armor these days.”

“What’s going on with our Frankie?” she asked casually, taking a sip from her wine glass. “She seemed okay tonight; at least, I didn’t notice anything.” Not that it counted for a whole lot, given that she wasn’t the girl’s mother. “Hmm. Cyrus? Cyrus. I remember hearing about him,” Naomi said with a nod. She could almost remember meeting him, perhaps in passing. “He’s the one who’s been saving the day for you guys lately. Huh.” She tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips as she fell into thoughtful silence for a brief moment. “Not something you’d go to Kevin for, or are you not at that point yet to ask for his help?”