Boardwalk [OPEN]

[nealdouglas]

"Hey Scumbag, this is your father speaking. So, it's half eleven and your two hours late so I'm taking it your not coming. Your sudden silence is duly appreciated, I love talking to your answer machine. It's the best way to communicate... so stay hydrated and don't forget if your going to play in the rain- wear a raincoat. Oh, now you're talking to me... I am not embarrassing." Walking along the boardwalk, Neal cradled the phone to his ear holding up a hand as he pointed and ordered a familiar Siren Cove delicacy. Sliding a couple couple of bills out of his wallet, he offered them before taking the cone of fried pickles along with him. "Do you have a girl there? Do you have a boy? You know you can tell me I love you no matter which way you want to swim in the stream. Yes, that was an awful salmon analogy I know."

Neal leaned against the railing, staring out at the water and making a face as he chewed on the crisp end of a fried pickle. Glancing down he half expected his kid to be there, looking up at him with those big, sad eyes. Reaching out he let his hand fall away at the memory of fine hair between his fingertips, his kid looked like his mother which was a blessing to him. He didn't think he'd ever twigged or ever realised why he ever took such an interest in his mother's affairs or more importantly in his.

"What? Oh, no just thinking. I do, do that occasionally you know. So, do you want to meet for lunch later this week?" Neal waited for his son's negative reply, one of the only good things he's ever done in this world and half the time he was sure Killian didn't want to be seen with him. He could hardly blame him, his mother was a smart and sensible woman unlike his dad- unlike Neal. One kid who didn't care if he existed and the other one who didn't know he existed. "No, I get it. You're busy. Okay, okay... so I'll see you soon. Yeah... love you... kiddo. And he hung up. Great."

Crunching on the pickles he sighed and brushed his fingertips against the railing, running a hand through his hair thoughtfully. How'd he manage to fuck up his life this much that his kid didn't even want to spend time with him on a Sunday?

"Fuck," Neal swore, looking at his pickles. Who the hell was he going to share these with now?


[OOC: Catch Neal out on the boardwalk or heading back towards town.]

Comments

[danibradshaw]

"That's disgusting. I can smell you from across the pier."

Dani had to clear her head. She'd been working night and day on the next issue of The Cove when she decided she'd had enough of Siren Cove's who's and what's. Besides, it looked like a beautiful Sunday and she needed a little sun.

She had just grabbed an ice cream cone when she heard the familiar voice of one Neal Douglas. It's hard to miss him, really--his loud voice obviously talking to his son, his presence, and well, the fried pickles. Dani slinks up beside him, leaning onto the railing of the pier as she takes a few licks of her chocolate ice cream.

"Disappointing Sunday?"

[louise_abasi]

Louise was surprised that there was anyone left she hadn't met after her return to town, but of course it was the Nancy Drew of Siren Cove that had thwarted her ideas.

Dani had probably been too busy with anything to check in with her, anyway. She was always running.

And maybe she was right now, so Lou just lifted a hand in greeting.

[danibradshaw]

Dani isn't going to let Lou Abasi just wave a hand and get away like that. She tips her hat back, taking another lick of her ice cream. "Hey, wait a minute. Do I know you?" It's a half attempt at a joke since Dani does feel guilty about the fact she didn't reach out to Lou.

[louise_abasi]

Louise knows it's a joke, but it still makes her freeze up.

"That's stone cold, even for a horrible gossip hound like Dani Bradshaw." She shakes it off and gives her a fragile smile. "I don't even know myself, so probably not."

[danibradshaw]

"Sorry. Sorry. That was low, even for me." She crosses her arms as a natural defense, even though Dani knows she crossed a line. "How are you?"

[louise_abasi]

"I'm glad you picked up on that."

Louise knows that everyone is allowed a mistake, but she knows how smart Dani really is and somehow that makes every crude comment hurt a little more. 'You should know better' was a serious issue.

"Slightly nauseous because of all these pickles around. Don't you dare turn that into Abasi Finally Knocked-Up, by the way."

[nealdouglas]

"How dare you, these are a delicacy you know." Neal drawled, returning his phone to his pocket. Neal smiled at her question, wondering if she was asking as a friend/client or asking as a journalist. Neal considered dipping the fried pickle into her ice cream just to piss her off. "You know how it is with kids these days, always too busy to meet their old folks. But not so disappointing now you're here."

[danibradshaw]

"A delicacy that should be banned." She rolls her eyes. Very Neal. "Hold onto that thought, I have a way of disappointing company in a matter of minutes."

[nealdouglas]

"I know at least one person who would disagree with you. My kid who has awesome taste in food and women." Neal shook the pickles beneath her nose, smirking as he tried to lure her in with his crisp, battered delicacies. "You never disappoint me, if anyone in our unending partnership disappoints anyone it's me disappointing you. Although you have yet to agree to go out with me, that is terribly upsetting. Heartbreaking even."

[lesparker]

His building had undeniable perks. More space. Good kitchen. Comfy bed now that the furniture was where it needed to be. Great view of the docks and importantly the boardwalk. The only downside he'd found so far is the smell, the smell of grease and sugar and popcorn wafting in when the breeze blew in the right way. Each time it made his stomach rumble with hunger and good memories becuase there's nothing like food from the grease-covered booths down on the boardwalk.

It's just a short walk down to the booth from his building, where they sold corn dogs and fried pickles and sweet lemonade. The pickles here are even better than Quill, and Les orders a cone and a lemonade, and he walks down to a bench near the end of the dock, takes his place and his lemonade.

Obviously this place is good for Les. It reminds him of Corry and his mother, mostly, and as he doesn't come down here nearly enough for lots of reasons. But today it's pretty nice.

[nealdouglas]

Chewing through the crisped fried batter, Neal spotted the familiar mess of unruly hair and headed towards him. The knot of guilt easing a little at the sight of Les, draped across one of the benches. He should've done more for him, he should've done something else but keep him from social services.

Reaching out to brush his hair, like he used to, Neal hesitated before pushing his hand into his pocket.

"Hey kiddo," Neal drawled, falling into the seat beside him on the bench. "Great minds, think alike. How's business?"

[lesparker]

Neal Douglas is one of those vague people in Les' life. Someone he only remembers exists when confronted with the high-profile, fast-talking lawyer. Maybe it's because of the memories Neal dredges up about those weeks after his mom died when decisions had to be made that Les was clueless about completely. By association Neal gets put in the box of Things Les Doesn't Like to Think About, unfair or not.

But the man had always been nice when Les didn't think he really needed to be.

He watches Neal sit down with his own pickles, and he shrugs. "Can't complain. I guess." Actually Les' life all things considered is good at the moment. "Especially not right now," he says, stuffing a pickle in his mouth.

[nealdouglas]

"Yeah, you always did like pickles." Neal drawled with a bemused look. Sometimes he wishes that Les remembered the moments Neal was around. The other part is grateful because at least this way he gets to be the sometimes overly interested lawyer and not the deadbeat father he knows Les probably calls him. "Anything I need to know, be worried about, taking care of on the business/property end. You know I can only help if I know about it, right?"

[lesparker]

See now is one of those times where Neal Douglas is nice, helpful even, when he doesn't need to be. Les has never been sure why either, other than some hand-waving reference to his mother that Les has never been crystal clear on but he's a bit too leery to ever ask.

Neal knew Rosalie. That's all he knows. Besides back then there was no one but Neal. Les has no other living relatives, and there was this man saying he was a lawyer and would help. It wasn't something to turn away.

"I bought this building up the street. Or signed the papers anyway. I mean I live there now," Les says, popping more pickles into his mouth. "Lara helped me out." He didn't think of Neal during the negiotations.

[nealdouglas]

The dear matriarch had helped his kid out, if she knew- which she didn't- about Les he wondered if she would've helped or would've made him come more into the fold to keep quiet. Still, it looks like he owes Lara one (or several) and he hated being in debt to the siren matriarchy.

"You get it checked over, do all the property evaluations and taxes? I can get someone to go over it if you want," Neal said, trying to appear as disinterested in it as he can. He could probably make it look like he had to pay a lot less to Les, while siphoning his own money in to pay for his kid's stuff. He tried but it was hard trying to do it without letting the kid twig, he was smart like his old man after all.

[bachjones]

With his guitar on his back, Bach crossed the boardwalk a few times before he found someone willing to buy him some food.

The woman had - with some regret - said that she had to go to work, so Bach was now working his way through churros and waffles by himself. Which he didn't mind, especially because the combination was surprisingly nice. He should only have asked for a drink as well, because this stuff was sweet.

[nealdouglas]

"I'd offer to buy you a drink but I doubt you need my help getting one of those." Neal drawled, glancing across at the- siren- had to be a siren. No one that ridiculous looking, except himself of course, could ever get a woman to fall over themselves to help them that quickly. "You're... name's on the tip of my tongue."

[bachjones]

"You don't know me."

Bach looked from his food to the guy. He rather had younger over older. "But sure, you can get me a drink, sir. It saves me a walk."

[nealdouglas]

"Nope, seen you around town though. I like to keep my eyes and ears open." Neal drawled and raised an eyebrow at his apparent offer to buy him a drink. "I was making a comment on the charm levels. You aligned yet?"

[bachjones]

".. what?"

Of course Bach didn't get any peace of mind in this stupid town. "I did what?"

[aoife_coombs]

Life was lighter right now. Thomas was back, Moira was off Aoife's mind and then there was silliness and kisses with Isaiah. Of course she could come up with plenty of things that would go wrong, but right now, she refused to.

Enjoying an outrageously big ice cream cone was easier anyway.

[nealdouglas]

"If it isn't my favourite Coombs girl," Neal drawled, glancing up with a smirk at Miss Prim and Proper Aoife. He swore the Coombs family put up with him for one reason only, his ability to be a neutral legal entity between the two rival families. And his ability to pay for charms he needed which he often did need. "Pickle? They're delicious."

[aoife_coombs]

"I'm eating an ice cream right now, mister Douglas, but thank you for your offer."

Every other day Aoife would find it hard to hide the creeps Neal gave her, but not today. She smiled. "You may enjoy all of them by yourself. Or anyone else you offer them to, because I don't think I'm the first."

[nealdouglas]

"Please call me Neal, Mister Douglas makes me sound old." Neal replied. Or worse like she was one of Killian's dates and he was being greeted as his son took her to prom or something. "To be offered pickles? I don't just share them with anyone."

[aoife_coombs]

"You are older than me, sir."

She licked her ice cream. "And I'm flattered, but I'm pretty peculiar when it comes to food. The pickles are all yours to do with whatever you want."