#dv.starter

caroline hates needles – the memory of having to see her father sticked over and over again, and then, her own attempt through hormonal treatments only to end up in failure, not to mention just how prickly they are – so you'd guess the last place she would spend her weekday at would be at a blood drive, but alas. it's for a good cause, isn't it? still, she did try to delay her own go at it for as long as she could, but with the thing coming to an end, she has to undergo it, like everybody else. she refuses to do it quietly, however – and she doesn't mean just the way she winces when the needle goes in. "ouch. it's sad to say they won't get good patient satisfaction scores today." watching the pitt should make this more interesting, but it doesn't. hospitals just won't be her happy place. "do you know what's your type yet?"

lacey’s attention is fixed on the horse in front of her, body angled just enough to guide without crowding, one hand resting light against the line while the other lifts slightly. subtle, controlled. the horse circles, slower now, ears flicking back toward her voice as she clicks her tongue softly. “easy… there you go.” it’s all rhythm and patience, the kind that comes from doing this a thousand times over. she doesn’t notice at first. too focused, but something shifts. maybe the horse catches it before she does, head turning slightly toward the edge of the pen. then she follows the movement, glancing up and then immediately stills. “oh, shit.” it slips out under her breath, more realization than alarm, already stepping back a half pace as the horse slows on its own. “we had plans, didn’t we?” her voice carries a little more now, hand coming up to rub at the back of her neck, a mix of sheepish and matter-of-fact all at once. she exhales, shaking her head slightly at herself. “i got caught up.” a small pause, then she gestures vaguely to the horse like that explains everything. which, to her, it does. “lost track of time.”

     the  bitterness  still  harbored  in  her  heart  years  post  divorce  wasn't  for  longing,  she  didn't  want  him  back.  broken  trust  and  betrayal  was  a  difficult  thing  to  make  peace  with,  and  whenever  shay  saw  him  about  town  spite  seemed  to  seep  into  her  chest  with  the  urge  to  kick  him  in  the  teeth  as  a  bit  of  payback  for  the  pain  he'd  caused.  the  ripple  effect  of  his  actions  harmed  more  than  just  her,  their  son  had  paid  a  price,  too.  now,  for  shay,  trust  was  even  more  challenging  to  come  by.  startled  by  a  voice  from  behind  her  and  pulled  from  vindictive  reverie,  shay  turned  slightly  and  took  a  breath  as  she  changed  gears  realizing  she  was  a  stone  in  the  river  on  the  sidewalk.  “sorry,  i  guess  i'm  in  the  way,  huh?”  that  signature  texas  twang  was  faint  some  near  three  decades  later  yet  still  present  as  shay  spoke. 

"do you think this is too much to ask of a kindergartener?" maggie asked, her brows furrowing as she looked up from her laptop, turning the screen towards the person nearby. the screen revealed a project she'd found online, a 'mosaic' project with paper glued down in the shape of earth. a glue disaster waiting to happen, but parents would appreciate it. "i'm thinking for earth day with the younger ones. usually i'd make my own kids be my guinea pigs, but they're with their dad and frankly too opinionated for their own good, so. thoughts?"

physical activity may not be her go to method of torture, but caroline would never deny showing up for a friend – said friend is still a while away from the finishing line, but caroline is prepped with drinks and snacks and a sign that reads "i like big runs and i cannot lie", which she flashes to anyone that approaches. "too much?" she asks, opening a smile that is half a grimace, half amusement. "you can have one of the waters, if you want; i just gotta leave one for mare." the day was an unusual blessing, with the sun peeking out and shining brightly.