#birchrcse

Joel: Hey, it's Joel Joel: I was texting to see how Wilbur is doing. I hope he doesn't miss me too much

winnie made her way to the front door of what would soon be carroll’s newest restaurant, with montgomery trailing behind her like a very polite shadow with a camera. he was one of her favorite reporters, mostly because he understood two very important things: her angles and when a photo was flattering enough to be considered journalism. he also knew when not to take one, which, in winnie’s opinion, was the mark of a true professional.

she reached for the door, gave it a tug, and blinked when it opened. “oh,” she said, pleasantly surprised. “trusting.” birch did know they were coming, of course, so maybe she didn’t leave it unlocked all the time. still, winnie filed the thought away under things she would not mention unless it became charming later.

Grady was honestly a little pleasantly annoyed at how right Lilith had been about needing to talk to Birch. He already felt better after having gotten the apology out of the way, his chest lighter and his breath easier. There was still a smoldering suspicion of this Matt guy, and a tingling of worry that this was all some sort of set-up for them to finally meet, but he knew he couldn't very well protect from anything if they weren't even speaking. So he needed to be a lot less hotheaded if she was ever going to trust him enough to keep her safe from a repeat of Jerry.

"I mean part of me thinks this is totally justified because I, too, hate being cut off... but part of me also thinks this might be a little extreme. If you drive an ugly volkswagon, you might want to invest in some poopoo bags."

Joel had just come from the town seamstress, dropping off a handful of shirts that needed minor repairs. New Year’s in LA had been messy, and had he thought ahead, he would’ve left them with his usual tailor. But he hadn’t. He’d been lazy, and Carroll’s would have to do. If the work turned out poorly, he’d make sure his dissatisfaction was understood.

Receipt tucked into his pocket, Joel stepped back onto the street, already turning over the question of how to occupy the rest of his day. He was halfway lost in his own thoughts when he collided with someone, his shoulder knocking into theirs.

His brow creased as he turned, irritation ready on his tongue until he registered a pretty brunette. The annoyance vanished instantly, replaced with something warm and attentive. “I’m so sorry,” Joel said, his expression settling into genuine-looking concern. “Are you okay? I wasn’t paying attention.”

He hadn't told his brother or his sister he was coming back to Carroll. But after the festivities for Christmas and then the two of them going on about the upcoming fair, he wasn't going to miss the chance to kill two birds with one stone - seeing his siblings and holding the fair up to its hype more than enough reason for Grady to travel.

It was midday by the time he made it to town, and he strolled through to where Birch said her pie stall would be for the contest. He was surprised anyone even wanted to go up against his sister. Figuring they might as well just bow out gracefully now. They wouldn't stand a chance. A taste test not even needed. He let his gaze wander over the booths as he walked until he saw her, back turned as she fussed with restocking her table.

"I'm sorry Birch," JP apologized as he finally took a seat in his couch. "When Mad said he was a busy guy, I didn't realize just how busy. I've been runnin' all over town trying' ta keep up with him," he said as he relaxed back in his seat with a sigh.

He watched her as she crossed through to where he was and set the bag down in front of him, leaning forward to grab it and do as she asked. The cardigan he pulled out brought a smile to his face. "I swear you get more creative with your gifts every year," he told her as he admired her handiwork. "Fits like a glove. Thank you BB," he added as he put it on.