#suburbiasstart

the flower shop was almost always empty on a monday; no one fucked up and needed to deliver a bouquet to their spouse at the beginning of the week, no one cared about the babies being born at a hospital 45 minutes away on a monday, and death - while imminent - rarely seemed to strike at them for a monday funeral. 

which meant she was beyond bored. her grandmother technically still owned the shop, but she rarely came down to see it anymore - since luci’s return to town, she’d entrusted it in her care, and she spent hours taking care of the plants and creating elaborate bouquets that, quite frankly, no one ever really bought.  she should have stuck to journalism. at least there were always stories to be told.  she was busy singing along to the radio overhead - classic rock for the day, to match her ripped jeans and cargo boots that kept the snow off her feet - when the door chimed with the announcement of a customer, and she immediately turned into customer service mode as she finished pruning one of the bouquets that would last another few hours, at max, if she was lucky. “welcome!” she called out, not bothering to look over to see who it was. “let me know if you need any help finding the perfect arrangement,” she continued, her customer service voice chipper and somehow even higher than her normal register, “we’ve got just about everything you could need!” 

Her worn out leather journal was sitting on her lap as she scribbled inside of it. Any notes that were inspirational or maybe just something pretty. She sketched in the margins until something came to life.

Her pale skin drunk in the beautiful weather, toes curling inside her winter boots as she sat happily nestled inside of her jacket.

The quiet was so peaceful, Nora hardly thought much of the sound of footsteps behind her until she was startled so badly she jumped into the air.

“Jesus Christ!” she said, taking a deep breath. “Do you walk on clouds or something?”

If she didn’t know any better (she wasn’t too convinced that she did), she’d have thought that Helen had purposefully hoarded all this crap in preparation for the day she kicked the bucket and left Marley to clean up her mess, the way that she’d been swindled into doing for her first eighteen or so years of life. She could almost laugh, but the desire to scream was lodged in there somewhere too, knocked loose in her chest the minute she’d answered that damned phone call and been asked if she was the daughter of one Ms. Helen Callahan. 

The rest of the conversation was a blur. Even now, as Marley stood in the trailer she’d grown up in, surrounded by her mother’s things, she tried to remember how the news had been broken to her. What she’d said in response. What she’d thought. But staring at her mother’s ashtray on the counter, cigarette butt still laid against it, her mind remained completely void of any thought other than I could probably get a few bucks for that. 

Unceremoniously, the ashes of the tray were dumped in the small trashcan, the tray itself being tossed into the latest box of items Marley deemed sellable. The sooner she got the place cleared out, the sooner she could sell it, and the sooner she could get the hell out of there.

Nudging the door open with her foot, Marley made the short trek to the folding tables she’d set up in front of her lot, a few lurkers peering over the items out for sale. As Marley began to unpack her latest finds, she noticed from the corner of her eye the lurker at her own table take interest in something. 

“Whatever it is, I’ll take ten dollars for it.” Out of curiosity alone, she turned her attention to the object in hand. “Actually, that’s--” It wasn’t so much the glimpse of the silver chain that made Marley falter as it was the realization that it was the first time she’d ever seen it unworn. “...only five. You drive a hard bargain.”

it wasn’t that stella was particularly fond of donnie darko, necessarily, more that she simply needed something to do for a couple of hours. the golden cinema was perfect for that - they never showed movies less than a decade old, things she either loved or hated or never got around to seeing in the first place playing for $1 and a tub of popcorn that was almost as expensive as her rent. she could sit in the dark and zone out - something that was in desperate need these days. 

she’d always wanted to help people, teens especially, to navigate them through the hardest years of their lives. but she had specifically chosen a small town without tragedy, and now - 

well, her office hours were much fuller than they had been a month ago.

there was another body in the small theater, and stella was almost surprised - it was 2pm on a saturday - but she moved to sit next to them anyways, offering them some of her popcorn as she settled in. 

“so, do you think this is the time you’ll finally understand this movie and can maybe explain it to me?”