Babysitting! Who: Teagan and Charlie (with cameos from Jenny and her son, Chase!) When: Saturday, 12/22/2012, mostly during the York Party. Where: Jenny's apartment, Black Gate. What: Teagan and Charlie hang out while Teagan should be babysitting. Warnings: They talk and talk and talk and talk.
Teagan was grateful that she had her car back. Walking from her house to Black Gate Apartments was tedious in good weather, but in slush it was horrible. Granted, she could have strong-armed Tatum or Charlie to give her a ride over... or, hell, even Jenny, herself. However, Teagan didn’t like being the kind of babysitter who needed to be picked up by her employer, and she hated being remotely dependent on her little sister (or her friend, for that matter). So she would have walked. Thanks to Avery Weston - and, grudgingly, Mike McBrayer - the yellow bomb was alive and kicking, so it wasn’t a necessity. She was able to pull right into the depressing parking lot like a fucking adult. Like she still lived there. In fact, it was tempting to just pull into her old parking spot from the brief amount of time that she had lived there.
The apartments at Black Gate were terrible, but Teagan preferred them to living under Michael Donnelly’s thumb. Roaches were definitely preferable to overbearing fathers. The roaches couldn’t judge. They were fucking roaches. That argument hadn’t worked, however, and she was absolutely certain that her dad had pulled some strings with the manager at Black Gate to get her kicked out, after he found out that’s where she was living. Her taste of independence had been all too brief.
But that was why the plan was there. Granted, the recent work on her car had been set-back. Teagan was down to her last fourteen bucks. Not even enough for a decent pizza. The babysitting had become a necessity again, rather than just a favor. Luckily, this time of year tended to be peppered with events. Teagan had been surprised to hear that Jenny Parry got to go to the York party (she was still unclear as to why Mr. Bennett would even be invited; he didn’t seem rich or anything), but she was happy to accept the job. The York thing ran until Midnight, maybe even longer... and it was possible that Jenny might opt to stay the night with Jon Bennett, if there was any drinking involved. Sleeping over on a sofa that wasn’t under Michael Donnelly’s roof wasn’t a bad way to earn a few extra bucks.
---
Jenny herself was more than a little surprised to be able to attend something like an event hosted by the York family. It still seemed a bit surreal, and she wasn’t positive that she would fit in somewhere like that exactly, but she was excited for an evening out, and an evening with Jon. It was perfect that Teagan had the evening free, and although Chase was being slightly whiny with her (as he tended to get when he knew she would be out with Jon until after his bedtime), everything else seemed to be coming together nicely. She had even borrowed a nice dress from her sister, something Ella had worn to a ceremony at her university last year.
Yes, her sister got to leave Crows Landing for most of the year, and study Marine Biology in a whole different state. Ella got to wear the dress to academic functions, to galas where brains were a deciding factor in those attending. But, as Jenny sarcastically told her sister while she was trying it on in their mother’s living room, she got to attend a party hosted by Christine York in company of the (supposedly) greatest and most important residents Crows Landing, so beat that. Her jealousy had been hard to hide, but the dress really did look stunning on her.
She knew for a fact that if she didn’t happen to be dating the best friend of Robert York, an invitation never would have found it’s way to her. And really, it wasn’t to her anyway, as she was simply a plus one. It would be an experience, if nothing else, and a sort of interesting look into the face of high society life, at least in their town. It was ironic, getting ready to attend a York party, when she had been spraying aerosol roach repellent under her kitchen sink before getting showered and ready to go.
Jenny hated the roaches, and she was vigilant about keeping them at bay. Her apartment was kept spic and span at all times, both an effort to help that, and a side effect of the fact that she was a ‘neatfreak’ as Chase called her.
She did feel a little bad about leaving Chase so late, she normally tried to be home before eleven, but the York event ran until midnight as far as she understood. But she liked Teagan, she had been watching Chase for a while now, since they had moved into Black Gate anyway. Since Jenny had decided she actually needed a real babysitter, and couldn’t call her mother over to sit every time she needed someone. She was getting older. Teagan was generally available, she didn’t ask for a ton of money, she didn’t seem too annoyed that Jenny called to check in a lot, and Chase liked her.
Jen found the occasional pizza box or empty bag of greasy potato chips when the brunette left for the night, occasionally she, and sometimes she did smell a lingering scent of something decidedly smoky once in a while, but Jenny let most of it slide. She wasn’t a total bitch, after all, and it wasn’t as if she didn’t smoke in her own bathroom all of the time, always with the window open and when Chase was out. Even so, there was no getting the cigarette smell out of that room. She trusted Teagan with her son, since they had never run into a problem to date, and there was no hesitation to leave when the other girl showed up at their apartment door.
“Best behavior, don’t stay up too late,” Jenny told Chase by the front door, as she slid her arms into her jacket and then crouched down to cup both his cheeks, pinching them a little. Much to his dismay. “Yeah ma,” the little boy replied dryly, eyes squinted shut against the pinching. “You’ll be sour in the morning. Be good for Teagan, okay? She’ll tell me if you’re not listening,” she had warned, before a quick kiss to the top of his head and grabbing her keys, she disappeared out the door.
---
There weren’t many people in Crows Landing who didn’t know about the York Christmas party and, from Charlie’s perspective, there weren’t many people who hadn’t been invited. Of course there were the seedier people in town who wouldn’t be allowed within three hundred feet of the building even on a party-less evening, but everyone who was anyone would be at the York estate tonight. Everyone except the Patenaudes.
Charlie probably wouldn’t have gone even if his family had been invited; too many people who didn’t know him, didn’t know about his disability. No doubt the dinner would be filled with instance after instance of having to explain himself or getting in someone’s way and not responding to their polite requests that he move. Still, though, he was curious to see the inside of the enormous house, and the idea of mingling with the Crows Landing elite in a suit and bowtie, glass of champagne in his hand (since he was legal now) was not unattractive at all. Luckily, Charlie didn’t have to choose between these two scenarios.
When he finished work at six (OR WHENEVER), he went immediately to his car and pulled out his phone once he was buckled up in the driver’s seat. He sent a quick text message to Teagan before starting the car.
Are you at Jenny’s yet?
---
The return text was quick. Yep. She’s gone. Bring real food? Starving! Since paying for the car repairs, Teagan had been very low on funds. What she did have was going into her gas tank, so pizza delivery had become a luxury. The last thing she wanted to do was subject Chase (or herself, or Charlie, for that matter) to his mother’s culinary restrictions. It was her duty to provide junk food. It was part of the agreement between. The balance that kept him from complaining when his mother left. Without Charlie’s help, she wouldn’t be able to fulfil her end of that bargain. Everything might crumble into chaos.
Of course, that wasn’t the only reason she’d asked him to come over. The Donnellys had also never been on the York guest list, nor did any of them have any hope of getting invited by someone who was. Michael Donnelly had idle ambitions of getting himself into a higher position. Sheriff’s deputy, possibly the Sheriff’s position itself, one day. He loathed Brannon O’Brien, and his opinion of Avery Archer hadn’t exactly been raised when O’Brien had been promoted. If officer Donnelly did ever succeed in getting elected Sheriff, then he’d be on the guest list, as would his two daughters. Of course, the chances of that were about on par with the chances of Teagan marrying Stephen York. Michael Donnelly wasn’t well-liked. Even his daughters wouldn’t vote for him.
If she were ever on the guest list, she’d find a way to get Charlie Patenaude in with her. Just to see it, if nothing else. Until then, Teagan made an annual ritual of inviting Charlie over so that they could trash talk the people who were there, among other things. Being at Jenny’s didn’t hinder that ritual at all. She couldn’t think of a single person in town she’d trust more around a kid than Charlie. How could he be a bad influence when he barely had any vices, himself? So Teagan didn’t feel the slightest bit cautious or hesitant about inviting him over. She was more concerned about having her kid sister over when she babysat, worried that Jenny might call her on the lingering scent of pot in the air. It never stopped Teagan from requesting a Tatum-sized distraction, but it was a worry.
“Okay, kid,” she warned Chase, after tucking her phone back into her purse. “Charlie’s on his way over. Whatever he brings to snack on, you can have, too. If you don’t tell your mom he was here.” ---
Once Jenny had left the house, Chase had lingered forlornly by the door for only a few seconds before promptly parking himself on the living room sofa for an extended session of playing with his handheld video game. Something that his mother, unlike Teagan, never really let him do for more than one consecutive hour at a time. And never without reading for an hour first. One hour of book, one hour of game. He missed his mother when she went out with Coach Bennett, but he couldn’t argue that Teagan’s babysitting was pretty sweet. Even his nana made him go to bed on time.
And then there was the junk food.
“Your boyfriends coming over again?” he asked, scrunching up his nose at Teagan momentarily, before returning his attention to Mariokart instead. Snacks made up for it. “I want Snickers,” he added, after brief consideration, and without looking up again.
---
“He’s not my boyfriend,” Teagan corrected, an automatic gesture, unoffended. Even her dad would occasionally make the accusation, although she was fairly certain Michael Donnelly was joking when he said it. Hell, it was possible that these days it was said with some amount of hope. Charlie had a real job, albeit morbid, and would be an inoffensive son-in-law who might actually get Teagan into a relatively stable situation... provided he ever managed to get out of his own parents’ home. If the rumors about his sexuality were true, all the better. Teagan’s father would probably be horrified at the idea of her becoming a mother, anyway. Better that she end up as a meek deaf boy’s beard.
“He’s a business associate. We’ve been over that. And I don’t know what he’s bringing, so that’ll just have to be a surprise.”
---
Charlie smiled down at his phone when the text from Teagan arrived. Her idea of ‘real food’ was a far cry from his parents’ definition and he longed to see a conversation between the three of them where they would argue their respective points on the subject. Pulling out of the funeral home’s tiny parking lot, he debated whether or not he wanted to wait for a pizza or just head to the local fast food joint for burgers and fries. He doubted Jenny’s kid would have many complaints either way but Teagan could be sick of getting her food from a drive-thru. By the time he reached the main road he’d made up his mind to forego the pizza; it had been a slow day at work and he really didn’t feel like standing around doing nothing for another twenty minutes.
He ordered two kids’ meals with chicken nuggets and a cheeseburger combo for Teagan. His excuse, if anyone asked, would be that he wanted to give the second toy to Chase, while the truth was that he actually preferred the packaging for the kids’ meals. Besides, he wasn’t actually that hungry (again, if anyone asked).
He pulled into a parking spot on the curb near the Black Gate, not particularly keen on the idea of getting towed or ticketed for taking a spot in the lot that someone was paying for. Once he’d texted Teagan to let him in and made his way to Jenny’s apartment, he knocked three times on the door and waited with the fast food bags held out like some big surprise. The smell of the fries was getting to him and he was starting to feel especially hungry. Maybe Teagan would give him some of hers; he’d paid for it after all.
---
Although she knew who it was by the knock, Teagan took it upon herself to go get the door. She was the babysitter, after all, so if it was an axe murderer pretending to be Charlie Patenaude, she should probably die first. That was somewhere in the job description, along with feeding the child and ensuring that it did not electrocute itself in its mother’s absence. Her face lit up when she saw the fast food bags. “Why, Mr. Patenaude, you are my hero!”
The phony southern belle accent would be lost on Charlie, but he’d catch the exaggeration in her expression and the silliness of her words. Besides, the voice could amuse her, and that’s what mattered at the end of the day. She swung the door wide to let him in.
---
Chase had let the comment about waiting to see what Charlie brought, and the boyfriend denial, slide by, quietly keeping to himself and his video game, until the three knocks on the door caught his attention. The smell of the fries didn’t go wasted on him either, and he wandered out to see what Teagan was exclaiming about, DS still clutched in one hand.
“No Snickers?” he asked, though his eyes were on the bag. His mother almost never let him have take-out, and although she wasn’t a bad cook, there was just something satisfying about salty fries and a little grease. Even when he went to school, he was the kid with carrot sticks while everyone else ate cookies. “Is that for me?” he asked Charlie, blinking.
---
Handing the bag with the cheeseburger over to Teagan, he chuckled at her excitement. She was the only person he knew who could get so excited over a seven dollar meal. To be fair, though, he didn’t know many people. When Chase appeared behind her with his wide eyes and bright face, Charlie couldn’t help but grin. Maybe there were two people who could get that excited, actually.
“Sorry, no Snickers, champ,” that’s what his dad had called him when he was a kid. The nickname popped up again on occasion when he did something good or when he was feeling low and it always managed to make him feel just a bit better. “Teagan didn’t mention that you were hungry, these are both for me,” he tried to make his smile betray the lie as he clutched the two kids’ meals to his chest possessively but at Chase’s age, it might not be so obvious to him that Charlie was fooling around.
---
“Ouch. Sorry, kiddo. Looks like it’s carrot sticks for you,” Teagan told Chase, accepting her bag and already moving into the kitchen to plate up. Just because they were eating fast food didn’t mean they couldn’t be civil about it. “Tell Charlie that he can’t come in unless he gives you one. That’s my advice. Compelled sharing. It’s basically what the whole country is founded on.”
---
Chase fell for Charlie’s playful trick right away. Hook, line, and sinker, despite the smile. There was a pout firmly in place on the little boy’s face within seconds, before he turned and followed Teagan, close on her heels as she went about getting plates down. “Can’t you make him give me one?” he asked, before looking back over his shoulder at Charlie and his two bags of food with a betrayed look. His mother was always telling him he had to do more things for himself.
“Teagan says you have to give me one, or you can’t come in my house,” he warned, changing his tune. “She’s your girlfriend so you have to listen,” he further reasoned, after a beat. Evidently, repeated correcting didn’t always stick with him.
---
The skin around Charlie’s eyes wrinkled as he smiled down at the pouting boy. He thought Chase was maybe a little too young to be hearing Teagan’s opinions of American History but knew better than to try to chastise her for it; that would just make it worse.
“Well, in that case, I guess you can have one,” he held the bag just out of Chase’s reach for a few more seconds before giving in to that sad little face and handing it over. Charlie would give him the toy from his own meal shortly after they ate--unless it was something cool. “Teagan’s not my girlfriend, though. I just want you to know I’m doing this purely out of the goodness of my heart,” he ruffled the kid’s hair a little before heading to the kitchen to plate up his own food.
“How’s Jenny?” Charlie asked Teagan before shoving a fry in his mouth. He often asked about the blonde secretary when Teagan babysat for her. She was pretty and she had to raise her kid all alone; he liked to hear how she was handling things.
---
“Lucky,” Teagan answered, right away, being polite enough to refrain from shoving anything in her mouth first, since she knew Charlie wouldn’t be able to understand her while she was chewing. “She looked amazing, she’s going on a hot date to a York Ball or whatever. She’s like a fu...” Her eyes darted to Chase and she corrected herself. “Like Cinderella. Right this very minute she’s probably eating caviar and lobster and other shi-- all that other stuff I’ve never even tried. I kinda feel sad for Avery Weston, though. I mean, it looks like Jon Bennet’s a pretty big step up, you know? There’s no way Avery could get into a York party. It’s like not even a contest.”
She pushed the plate she’d pulled down for Chase towards him at the table. “Here ya go, Spud. Still gotta eat off a real plate. That’s a rule.”
---
With his kids meal proudly held in hand now, Chase stood obediently at the table side, accepting the plate Teagan pushed his way and nodding his head. So far as rules went, it wasn’t the worst one to have to follow. He had been looking forward to eating with his fries with his hands, something else Jenny preferred he didn’t do.. but then again, Teagan had never said forks were part of the rule. He unceremoniously began dumping his fries and nuggets onto the plate in a pile, seemingly oblivious to the conversation going on about his mother just above his head.
“If Teagan’s not your girlfriend,” he interrupted them after a moment, with his big plate held in his little hands as he looked up between Teagan and Charlie. “Is that why you’re not going to the boyfriend-girlfriend party with my mom?” Then, after another moment of consideration. “Do we have to eat at the table tonight?”
Pizza was usually eaten in front of the tv, but chicken nuggets warranted a questioning.
---
“Yeah, Charlie’s not going because his girlfriend is too busy,” Teagan informed the child. “And I’m not going because your mom is paying me to watch you. You can go eat in front of the tv if you promise to keep your food on the plate and not on the floor. Charlie and I have business to discuss. Because we’re business partners.”
---
Charlie watched Chase take his plate out to the living room and smiled at Teagan’s ‘business partner’ comment. He liked the kid, although he liked anyone who could believe he was cool enough to actually have a girlfriend, even if he still suspected Teagan of holding that oh-so-lucrative title. Since he couldn’t tell how loud the television was and he had no way of knowing if Chase was out of earshot, he kept his voice quiet when he turned back to speak to her.
“He could get in if someone brought him, though, couldn’t he?” Charlie didn’t know much about the Yorks or their social functions but he was pretty sure they couldn’t turn someone down at the door unless they had a good reason for it. He also didn’t think that Jon Bennett was much of a step up from Avery but that had more to do with the fact that Avery was really good-looking and Bennett still fell into the category of ‘old’ as far as Charlie was concerned than any estimation of the fanciness that they held respectively.
“I talked to him the other day — Avery. At the gas station.”
---
“Oh, did you?” That piqued Teagan’s curiosity, and kept her from going off on too much of a tangent about York party security. She was fairly certain that if someone tried to bring a gas station attendant they’d be arrested on sight. Then again, she was also fairly certain that there were secret service officers armed with automatic weapons, very much like a James Bond movie.
“Maybe if he were sleeping with one of the Yorks, he could get in,” was all she said about it, though that did bring to mind Avery hooking up with a York, which was both funny and entirely too wrong for her mind to form a complete mental picture. Stephen York was good-looking, but even he fell into the too-old-for-Avery category. She didn’t want to imagine him with Christine. “What about?”
She’d of course told Charlie all about her own uneventful run-in with the blond, only altering a few details of the narrative. He hadn’t actually complimented the skull on her rearview mirror, but he might as well have. “Was Mike McBrayer there when you went?”
---
“He wasn’t... but I did kind of bring him up,” he paused there, trying to come up with the right words that would get him a less-than-negative reaction from Teagan. For the most part, he could tell if something was going to upset his friend or if it would just roll off her back. This was, unfortunately, not one of those occasions so he decided to tread lightly, toeing his way into the subject with slow caution. “I asked Avery about the incident with Mike, whether... anything was going to be done about it.”
He resisted the urge to close his eyes and brace himself for an explosion. He honestly had no idea how she was going to react to the admission but he really didn’t want to get yelled at by anyone ever, let alone Teagan.
---
At first, Teagan’s eyes went wide and she paled as if the spectre of her dead grandmother had appeared behind Charlie’s head performing a pantomime skit. “Charlie, you did not. Are you serious?”
The thought was more than a little mortifying in some ways. She’d been trying to play it cool about the McBrayer incident when she’d spoken to Avery about it, so that she wouldn’t come across like a girl who ran to her daddy whenever she was in trouble. There was no reason to think that Mike McBrayer would get into any trouble over what had happened, since she had specifically not told her father, or filed any sort of complaint against him. So bringing it up again was just foolish, and might have put Charlie in the crossfire, if McBrayer had been there to overhear it. She didn’t want her friend to get caught up in her bullshit.
On the other hand, Charlie Patenaude rushing to her defense in the mechanic’s shop, or at least so far as Charlie could act in her defense, by asking after the incident, was an endearing narrative. So Teagan’s ultimate reaction was to shake her head and throw her friend an incredulous grin, reaching over to push lightly at his shoulder. “You goof. What if McBrayer had been there? You could’ve gotten in trouble even asking. The last thing you want is to be on Mike McBrayer’s radar. He could break you in half! ...What did Avery say?”
---
“He wasn’t there,” Charlie assured her, though in all honesty he had no way of knowing. McBrayer could have been banging pots and pans together right behind the boy while he was inquiring about disciplinary action and Charlie would be none the wiser. At this point, he was willing to fib quite a few times if it meant Teagan would keep smiling like that or prevent her from getting angry or disappointed.
“Avery looked at me like I was crazy,” he said, changing his tone to something more exasperated. He might have backed down immediately when Avery had rounded on him but with Teagan he knew he could say whatever he wanted to. “Like, ‘of course we’re not gonna do anything, he only...’” he cast a glance over to Chase and lowered his voice to a whisper. “‘assaulted a girl.’”
---
Teagan leaned forward, listening intently, and nodded as though that made perfect sense. She also whispered. Hell, she could have whispered all of her conversations with Charlie; it wasn’t like he would know. “I bet it’s not the first time. Even if I had filed a real complaint, they’d probably just bury it to keep him on. Not a lot of other mechanics in town, so who even cares if he scares off a couple of customers? That’s the manager’s policy, though. Not Avery’s fault. He probably hates having to work with that troll, McBrayer, but what choice does he have? It’s sad, really.”
A downright tragedy. The narrative she’d painted for Avery Weston allowed for all kinds of room for him to be bitter with his life, but very little for personal fault. He’d almost complimented her skull, so he could do very little wrong.
---
Charlie gave a sigh and pushed his fries toward Teagan. Too much grease, not enough salt--that always seemed to be the way at their local burger joint. He looked deep in thought as he started on his chicken nuggets. “Yeah...” he commented uncertainly, feeling defeated again. “Why didn’t you, anyway? File a complaint, I mean?” Just because nothing was likely to be done about it didn’t mean it should go undocumented. Maybe, if Mike McBrayer had actually done that sort of thing before, the reason he was still employed and not on probation was because no one else had complained either. He couldn’t comment on whether or not Avery enjoyed working with Mike. The blond hadn’t given him any indication one way or the other, at least nothing that Charlie would have been able to read into. He didn’t see the same halo over Avery that Teagan did; he thought the guy was hot, yes, but their conversation had been disappointing.
---
“Because I don’t want him coming after me,” Teagan said, easily. In her mind the question was a simple one. “I had to fill out paperwork to get my car worked on, so he knows where I live and shit. If I ratted on McBrayer, he’d know it was me. He might’ve sabotaged my car, or gone to my house... I mean my dad’s house... and my baby sister’s there. Not worth the trouble. I don’t want to end up with you doing my makeup at the morgue, Chuckles. You’d make me look like a hooker or something. I know how to pick my battles, you know?”
She most assuredly did not know that, but Teagan felt like it was the right thing to say, somehow. Make it seem like her inactivity wasn’t just due to fear, but out of some kind of decorum. She was protecting loved ones with her silence. Nevermind that she had no real proof that McBrayer would have gone after her one way or another.
“Shit,” she said, suddenly, and looked down at her lap for a moment. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. After looking at it however, she visibly rolled her eyes for Charlie’s benefit. It was a look that usually meant Michael Donnelly was calling, but she didn’t deign to answer. “Ugh. Unknown number. Been getting pervy crank calls again. I hate this town.”
---
As much as the idea of McBrayer not being punished for what he’d done ate at Charlie, the thought that he might respond to said punishment with an even more violent set of actions churned his stomach and helped him admit for the first time that, yeah, maybe it was a better idea to just leave him be. He scoffed a little at the comment about his makeup skills; he’d only recently started learning how to paint up the deceased to make them look less… well, deceased but he was fairly certain he’d never made anyone look like a hooker.
“I’m not that bad… but you were right, the eye shadow Bryant buys is horrible compared to the stuff you’ve got,” he quirked an eyebrow at Teagan’s phone when she set it back down, more wryly intrigued than concerned for her welfare. They were done with that for now. “Again?”
---
“Yeah, some bitch probably put my number in a stall or something. I haven’t dealt with this shit since high school. It’s Return of the Hive-Mind Blondes!” She made the obligatory spooky hand gestures and silly face to go with her statement, but anyone who knew her could tell she was genuinely annoyed. Tense jaw, slightly flared nostrils, the tendons in the neck were rigid. Yeah, Teagan wasn’t happy about those phone calls.
“Whatever. I just gotta screen my calls again. And I’d be more worried if Frankenbrit did know how to use makeup right. Wouldn’t you?” She relaxed with the change of subject, the smile becoming more sincere again. Teagan was very mercurial; her moods shifted faster than the weather. “I mean, I get that it’s part of the job or whatever, but could you imagine that guy in a Sephora store comparing blush hues and asking the saleslady about lipsticks? It’d be a Buffalo Bill moment for sure. So it’s probably for the best if he doesn’t. I still can’t believe you guys don’t have, like, a stylist for that. I told you I’d help you, if can get me into the place. I can do hair, too.”
---
Truthfully, Charlie probably wouldn’t be worried if Bryant was a cosmetics expert like Teagan. He’d been in the funeral business for a while and he seemed dedicated enough to his job that taking a few makeup classes or pulling up a tutorial or two on Youtube wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility. More likely the former, though, Charlie wasn’t sure whether or not Dr. O’Neil even knew what a Youtube was, let alone how to use it. He didn’t say as much to Teagan, though, well aware of how she reacted when he went to his boss’ defence.
“I’ve been trying to bring it up to him,” he said, now referring to Teagan’s offer. “He just doesn’t seem keen on bringing someone else in, you know? Doesn’t think we need it,” Charlie had not actually said anything about it to Bryant and the idea made him a bit nervous. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone else to talk to the older man (with the exception of maybe Marcus, he could stay far, far away) he just didn’t like the thought of someone stepping in on their Charlie and Bryant time. He had a special rapport with his boss and he treasured it selfishly.
---
“God, Charlie, why do you have to do everything by the book? You’re going to ask your mom’s permission the first time you get laid, too. I just know it.” At first, when Charlie had been hired at the funeral home, Teagan had been excited. While being in close quarters with the creepy mortician wouldn’t net Charlie any social cred, she’d hoped it would at least result in her getting to see real corpses. Alas, absolutely nothing had come of it. No dead bodies, no ghost stories, not even makeup practice. Just the younger man’s insistence on referring to the mortician on a first-name basis. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her fries, since her friend was so damn determined to be disappointing. “Forget it, then. I was trying to help you, but whatever.”
---
Ignoring Teagan’s blatant attempts to make him feel bad, Charlie rolled his eyes as well (ever so slightly) and leaned closer. “You don’t seriously want me to sneak you in to a funeral home, do you? So you can look at bodies?”
There were few occasions where Charlie could be certain that he was the one being less weird between two people and this was one of those times. His concern wasn’t that Teagan would be disappointed in him so much as the possibility of Chase overhearing their conversation about corpses.
---
She looked up when he spoke. Teagan just stared at him for a long moment, letting it hang heavy between them before she answered, shaking her head in genuine befuddlement. “Hi, I’m Teagan Mitchell. Have we met? Jesus, Charlie, don’t you know me at all? I used to crawl through Pine Bottom looking for bodies when I was ten.”
Her face screwed up into a pursed-lip expression of disapproval. “I think you just don’t want me to find the sex dungeon. Clearly.”
---
“There’s no sex dungeon!” Charlie forgot himself and raised his voice for the objection, wincing when he realized that Chase had probably, almost definitely heard that. He knew Teagan was into weird and gruesome stuff; she’d practically jumped on him when he’d told her about landing the job at the funeral home. His confusion had more to do with the fact that she was asking him to risk said job, not to mention his semi-decent reputation so that she could put some lipstick on a cadaver. He lowered his voice again.
“Do you have any idea how mad Bryant would be if he ever found out? He might shout, at me,” there was teasing in his voice but the worry in his face was very real. He’d never actually seen the doctor raise his voice and he hoped he’d never have to. Looking at Teagan, though, he knew already that this was a battle he was going to lose. He wouldn’t be listing the consequences if he wasn’t certain that he was going to go through with it. Despite all of his shopping earlier that day, Charlie still hadn’t located an appropriate Christmas gift for his friend and if this was something she wanted enough to pout about it, he could probably deliver. It didn’t mean he was going to be happy about it, though.
He looked up from his food and back at Teagan, sighing. If only one aspect of Charlie’s personality could be relied upon, it would be his inability to say no to a pretty girl with big doe eyes--even one as annoying as Teagan Mitchell. “Fine.”
---
His sudden loud volume startled her, and Teagan jerked her head around to see if Chase was going to respond. When he didn’t, she looked back at Charlie and made a gesture with both hands for him to keep it down several decibels. “You’re deaf, Charlie. If he yells at you, look at something else. Besides, he’s not gonna yell at you. It’s not like we’ll get caught. We’ll be careful about it. And then you can get the credit for a job extra well done,” she pointed out, trying to sweeten the deal for him.
“Hell, you might get a raise. He’ll probably like you more when he sees my makeup. It’ll be like Cyrano de Bergerac only with corpses and shit. Don’t even worry about it. Unless you’re trying to cover up something for the guy that you don’t want me to see. A secret lab... a sex dungeon...” She trailed off, trying to think of something else insidious that Bryant O’Neill might be hiding in the funeral home. The place was fairly large, and while most of it was viewing room and the chapel, she was sure there were whole rooms underground at the basement level. Nevermind that most buildings in Oregon didn’t even have basement levels. Nothing came to mind that quite had the same weight as sex dungeon, however, so she left it at that, instead shifting tracks just slightly, going off on a different tangent. “Hey, did you find out if Marcus Caravahlo is actually bringing him dead animals or not?”
---
That was a suggestion that he actually didn’t scoff at, rolling his eyes instead at the mention of Marcus. “Wouldn’t surprise me,” he could very easily picture Marcus going out into the woods to kill some defenseless creature and then leaving it on Bryant’s doorstep as a gift, much like a dog might. “Have I mentioned that I hate that guy? I hate that guy, like a lot,” he frowned at the countertop, remembering the way Marcus had gotten in his space and threatened him just for pointing out the obvious.
“I don’t get why Bryant hangs out with him--I don’t get why he hangs out with Bryant. I’m sure he’d much rather be sitting around at the bar, saying the ‘f’ word every two seconds and starting fights with people than bringing groceries to a mortician.”
---
“Groceries?” Teagan frowned. That did seem kind of weird. Dead animals would have at least been interesting. She might have even made an argument for Frankenbrit paying Caravahlo for drugs (although Charlie probably wouldn’t have liked that theory much), but groceries were so dull. Even if the good doctor was paying for them, she didn’t know why anyone would bother going out of their way to deliver them, unless they actually worked at the supermarket.
“It can’t be that simple,” she decided, shrugging a bit and picking up a fry to use as a sort of pointer, as if she were giving a lecture. “Nobody just stops by randomly with groceries. Even if they do know each other, there’s more to it than just that. He’s either sneaking something into the funeral home with the groceries, like using them as a cover, or it’s a front for something else. You said your boss doesn’t seem scared of him, so it’s probably not blackmail... unless maybe Dr. O’Neill has something on him? And is... forcing him to come by with food?”
No, that didn’t seem likely, either. The mortician could probably just order his groceries like a regular human being. There wasn’t anything shady or illegal about getting stuff delivered, so there was no reason to involve a thug like Caravahlo. “There’s something going on there, anyway. They aren’t just hanging out. Marcus Caravahlo is the type of guy who’d hang out with Mike McBrayer. He hits on every girl with a pulse. He’s gotta have an angle, and he’s probably getting paid for something. I just don’t know what, if it’s not body parts or pets. Maybe equipment from the hospital?”
---
“Maybe Marcus is stealing from him,” Charlie added thoughtfully because, while he was certain that Dr. O’Neill had nothing to do with anything illegal, it wasn’t a stretch at all to believe that Marcus was using him for something. Before Teagan could interrupt with a speech about how he shouldn’t think so highly of his boss or something stupid like that, he launched into his explanation.
“Bryant isn’t just not scared of Marcus he’s, like, friendly with him. He seems genuinely pleased to see him whenever he comes by,” it was hard to forget the way Bryant’s face had lit up at the sight of the long-haired man a little over a week ago. “And Marcus absolutely hates it when I’m around, he always tells me to piss off. I don’t think he wants me to know what he’s up to.”
---
“Ooh, yeah.” Teagan mulled that over a bit, forming a narrative to fit Charlie’s story. “Maybe it’s like a classic scam. He’s doing errands for the guy, right? Like getting groceries and stuff. Maybe he even sticks around to do other chores... like offering to fix stuff around the house. Stuff maybe Dr. O’Neill’s too old to do or doesn’t know how to do or whatever. And while he’s doing that he’s robbing the guy blind, under his nose. I could see it.”
She thought drugs or body parts were a lot more likely, but she was willing to entertain the notion for Charlie’s sake. “We should probably find out, you know. I mean, one way or another. Whatever it is. If Dr. Frankenbrit’s in on it, then you’re working for a criminal of some sort. If he’s being robbed blind, then he’s a victim, and you could totally lose your job if he ends up in the poorhouse because he trusted some thief to bring him groceries. ...Does Crows Landing even have a poorhouse? I guess he’d end up living in The Woods.”
Which could completely destroy any chance she had to see a real corpse, let alone touch one. At least in a safe, disease-free environment. “It’s a bad situation, any way you look at it. We should do something about it. All the more reason to get me into the funeral home. I can help look for evidence or something.”
---
The thought of Bryant moving all of his clothes, medical supplies and general belongings into a trailer in The Woods was almost unimaginably perverse, in Charlie’s opinion. He could not picture the older man living anywhere else but in a big, tidy home that always smelled like fresh flowers with just a hint of embalming fluid.
“I already said I’d get you in, didn’t I?” Charlie didn’t say it out loud, but he hoped the ‘don’t make me change my mind’ came out clear in his facial expression. “If you’re going to be investigating,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “anything, it’s got to be Marcus. Not Bryant.”
He didn’t even really know how one was supposed to go about investigating one and not the other, especially since the evidence of Marcus’ presence would be scarce, if there was any at all. Like with most of Teagan’s detective adventures, Charlie didn’t actually believe that they were going to find anything but he wasn’t directly opposed to the idea of getting some dirt on Marcus if there was any to find.
---
She waved off his irritated look, but he did make a decent point that an investigation couldn’t just involve the funeral home. Even if Bryant were an accomplice (and she thought it was incredibly naive of Charlie to think that he might not be), he was probably not the mastermind behind it. Charlie was hopelessly trusting, but not a liar, and the way he’d described Bryant acting did seem to indicate that Marcus was going to be the source of more information. So she looked thoughtful for a moment, mulling it over. “That’s a good point.”
Teagan didn’t know that much about Marcus Caravahlo, however. She knew that he worked at the hospital and hung out at the bar a lot, and had heard a great deal of rumors about him, but that didn’t mean she had a way to get into his home, or knew where he lived. “You’re right. It’s got to be a two-pronged. We can’t just focus on the funeral home. Especially if he chases you off as soon as he gets there. He might not leave much to go on. But don’t worry, I’ll find out what I can. We might not be able to get him arrested, but maybe we can prove enough that your boss’ll believe he’s being ripped off and get rid of the guy.”
---
Charlie took a moment to trace the line of conversation back to how they’d even gotten into the discussion about investigations and realized that, yes, once again, he’d brought this all on himself by mentioning the groceries. It still amazed him how Teagan could take simple details like that and turn them into conspiracy theories within the blink of an eye; even more amazing was her ability to pull Charlie into the tangle by suggesting that it had something to do with his own life. Also by making it seem like he was an active participant in the planning stages. Charlie had not intended to give his friend the idea about sleuthing elsewhere and he was pretty sure she knew that.
There was a growing look of distress on Charlie’s face as he realized that this wasn’t just going to be a simple in-and-out visit to the funeral home after hours. He didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything to put the brakes on the operation. Once Teagan had her mind set on something, trying to slow her down just resulted in pain for the person doing the slowing. He did, however, put his head in his hands and groan.
---
Undaunted by this unquestionable sign of despair from her friend, Teagan reached across the table to tap Charlie’s shoulder to get his attention again. Smiling at him with sweet reassurance that meant very little. It was true that Teagan had never strictly gotten them into too much trouble. Her antics were generally of the harmless sort, and amounted to little in the way of actual results. Still, odds were she was eventually going to run out of luck and do something undeniably dangerous. The expression on her face indicated that she was completely unaware of that fact, however. “I said don’t worry about it, Charlie. We’ll take care of it. Now, that new hive-mind blonde went to that antique shop across the street from my work again. I snapped a picture this time. Wanna see?”
Before he could answer, she was already pulling up the image of the leggy blonde on her phone, and pushing it across the table towards him for inspection, moving on to another subject and a different scheme. With any luck, she’ll have forgotten about the groceries by the time the night was over. Probably not, but he could hope.
---
With that very wish in mind, Charlie abandoned the topic of snooping around Marcus and the funeral home and focused his attention on the picture. Was it kind of embarrassing that Teagan was showing him stealth pics of girls on her phone? Yes, but it was better than the alternative and at least it wasn’t porn.
“Cute,” he commented, eyebrows raised and indicating that he wasn’t just saying that for his friend’s benefit. He took the phone in hand and zoomed in on the girl’s face. Very cute, and tall, he liked that in a girl although he’d never gotten close enough to one to really understand why. “I’m sure she’d be very happy to know that you have this,” he tried for sarcasm. It didn’t really sound right on him and the reason was a toss-up between his deafness and plain under-usage of the device. He was still looking at the picture, though, scrolling slowly down to witness for himself the extent of her legginess.
---
Teagan politely waited for him to look up at her face again before responding. Sometimes she didn’t remember to do that, and was halfway through what she was saying before Charlie noticed she was speaking at all. “Who’s gonna tell her? And for all I know she’s a model or something and is used to having her picture taken. I’d be thrilled if someone thought I was cute enough to take my picture just doing normal shit on the street. Seems like I always have to involve gaping wounds and corpse paint to get anyone to notice me at all.”
This last was said a bit wistfully, but Teagan was very aware that her tendency to involve gaping wounds and corpse paint were probably why people tried not notice her too much. If it wasn’t for her constantly running mouth. Whatever the reason, for the last couple of years she’d been having about as much luck as Charlie Patenaude in the romance department, and it was getting to be depressing.
Crows Landing was clearly too small of a town. At least the addition of a tall, blonde stranger was interesting. Maybe she’d move to town and bring some equally attractive friends with her. Artsy types who appreciated a creative use of latex and mortician’s wax. “She is cute, though, right? So your type. And she’s not from here, so she’s not one of the true hive mind blondes, which means you would totally stand a chance with her. I’ve seen her a few times, so she’s probably staying in town for a while. Someone in the store said they saw her over by Fauna Marshall’s place, so maybe she’s a relative? There’s kind of a resemblance. Anyway, that’s not far from us. Just saying.”
Teagan was very casual about all this, completely unashamed that she was essentially stalking some stranger, to an extent. That was about par for the course. She certainly didn’t see anything wrong or invasive about asking around. Most people were more than happy to share information just for the brief bit of attention it net them, and Teagan was more than happy to take advantage of that.
---
Charlie didn’t know what she expected him to do with this information. Was he supposed to find out where she was living, knock on her door and say ‘hey my friend says you’re so my type, let’s hang out’? As soon as the thought crossed his mind he realized that, yes, that probably was what she expected him to do, or something along the same lines. He glanced at the picture again, focusing now on the girl’s untamed eyebrows. They added significantly to her modelesque appearance and helped Charlie to decide that, despite what Teagan was saying, he definitely did not have a chance with this girl. Why would someone like that be even remotely interested in a short, deaf virgin?
“Awesome, maybe if I’m lucky she’ll drop her gum on my head thinking I’m a trash can,” he pushed the phone back in Teagan’s direction, disinterested in looking at something he could never have.
---
“Come on, Charlie, that’s not the spirit.” Teagan sighed and took her phone back. She’d been hoping to pique his interest, but apparently he was determined to be a sad sack, instead. “You know, the only reason you haven’t had a girlfriend yet is because you’ve already decided you’ll never get one. So a couple of dumb bitches laughed at you once back when you were an awkward teenager.”
She was kind enough not to mention that he still sort of looked like an awkward teenager. Everyone was waiting for Charlie Patenaude to have his growth spurt, and his body just wasn’t complying. Still, he had a certain boyish charm about him. There was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t date models, as far as she was concerned. “They’re all fat now, anyway, so who cares? I mean, yeah, you live with your parents, but only because you’re saving. Lots of people live with their parents. And you’re not that short. You’re way too cute to be a garbage can.” Her face split into a grin, signaling that she was going to make a joke before she cracked it. “Elf, maybe, but not a garbage can. And elves are hot right now. Everyone loves Lord of the Rings, right? You could ask her to see The Hobbit with you.”
---
Actually, he corrected her in his head, the reason he’d never had a girlfriend before was because he was a short, deaf virgin who (thank you, Teagan) still lived with his parents. It was also because he hadn’t gone to high school like everyone else his age and he didn’t have the network of acquaintances that everyone else in Crows Landing seemed to have. Basically, his only friends were either in this room or currently rearranging display coffins at the funeral home. And that was his fault as well, for deciding to continue being homeschooled instead of nutting up and facing the terror that was Crows Landing High.
Of course, he didn’t say any of this out loud. He knew what kind of reaction he’d get from Teagan if he told her how he really felt, but he wouldn’t let himself be fooled into believing that any of her ‘hive minds’ would take a second look at him unless it was for a dare or they really had a thing for clumsy, damaged guys.
“Elves are tall,” he decided to direct the subject elsewhere instead. “In Lord of the Rings, anyway. They’re tall and hot and they have ridiculously long hair. The dwarves are the ones who are short, but they’ve got giant hammers and axes and beards,” Charlie had tried to grow a beard once. It had resulted in his sisters calling him ‘Patches’ even months after he’d shaved the damn thing off. He scratched as his jaw, as if trying to reassure himself that it was, in fact, gone.
---
“You’d look pretty with long hair,” Teagan pointed out, completely disregarding the bit about height. “I could put you in braids and pointed ears. You’d be a million times hotter than Elrond, that’s for sure. Maybe we should do that! Get all dressed up and then road trip up to Portland for the Hobbit movie. We could find you a nerd girl.”
She had made a similar suggestion for Charlie’s 21st birthday. In fact, it had been very similar, but at least this time she wasn’t pitching fishnets and a waist cincher. The Hobbit was a lot more innocuous than Rocky Horror Picture Show. That had actually been a rather fun night, even with the lemon breaking down on the way back, but they had definitely not hooked up with any out-of-towners at that show. There was no reason to believe that the new Peter Jackson Tolkien movie would yield different results.
---
“I think braids and pointed ears might be a foolproof way to ensure that no one ever talks to me ever again,” he emphasized the last few words, and he truly believed them. Just picturing himself in an elven getup made Charlie himself want to laugh, which meant there was no way of knowing the extent of the snickering he’d get if he actually went out in public like that. Girls certainly wouldn’t go for it because they’d probably just assume he was gay (which wasn’t exactly far from the truth, but he couldn’t imagine he would be interested in the kind of guy who might like an elf Charlie.) It was just a bad idea. And while he didn’t have anything against nerd girls, he had a soft spot for the blondes that Teagan seemed to despise and he wanted to get to know at least one, if only so he could see what all the whining was about. Besides, any time he thought of a ‘nerd girl’ a picture of Teagan popped into his head. As much as he loved his friend and appreciated her attention (sometimes,) he really didn’t know if he could handle another person in his life who was just like her.
---
It was clear that he just wasn’t going for it, so Teagan let the subject drop. She didn’t really have the money to finance a trip to Portland for a movie, anyway. It’d be several hours there, the food, the movie tickets, and then several hours back. That was a lot of gas. Then any costume stuff on top of that, since she’d probably have to make Charlie an elven cloak at the very least...
Yeah, as much as she’d like to see her friend in braids, it just wasn’t worth the fight. So she shrugged. “Nevermind, if you’re going to be all Charlie Brown about it. Nobody wants a depressed elf. You know, you can just admit that you’re asexual. I won’t be mad at you. It’ll save me from wasting all my ideas on trying to get you laid. You can have your books, and I’ll just go hang out at the Brass Key picking up losers for myself.”
---
“I’m not asexual,” at least, he was pretty sure he wasn’t. Charlie didn’t know much about the specifics of asexuality but he didn’t think anyone who identified as such would have quite as many masturbation fantasies as he did. He was just a sad kid who’d been on a losing streak since the day he was born. “It just doesn’t really inspire confidence when you’re being all like my mom, trying to set me up with people.”
Mrs. Patenaude had stopped trying to introduce Charlie to nice young ladies a few years earlier, when he’d insisted that he wasn’t feeling well and she’d insisted that he was just making excuses. He’d vomited on the girl’s jeans. Yes, it was a total mystery why Charlie didn’t like approaching attractive people.
---
“I’m not trying to find you a nice girl to settle down with and make me grandbabies, Charlie. I’m just trying to pop your cherry. I’m not your mother,” Teagan insisted, seeing a world of difference between the two. She was a little offended that he’d even go there. The last thing she wanted to be like was someone’s mom. There were no more fries on her plate, so Teagan cast a glance towards the other room. Chase was being awfully quiet, and it was probably part of her job description to make sure he wasn’t being strangled to death in front of the television by gremlins.
So she stood up, detouring to the sink to wash the evidence of ketchup off her plate (though she never bothered to bury the fast food bags that deeply in the trash). It was an abrupt end to the conversation, but that was generally how they went. She wasn’t going to concede and just leave him floundering all on his own. He was on the fast track to becoming the next Dr. Bryant O’Neill if she did that. Unmarried, old, alone, and very likely diddling corpses. Why couldn’t he see that? Wasn’t he scared?
Unless, of course, that was his end goal. She didn’t like to think that Charlie would diddle corpses, but she couldn’t rule that out as a possibility. Dead girls were much less judgmental than live ones. Maybe he’d already developed a taste for it, and that’s where the sea of negativity was coming from. He was totally giving up on being normal, and instead just wrapping himself up in a security blanket of necrophilia and potential hermitude.
Poor Charlie. Before going in to check on the kid, Teagan paused in the kitchen doorway to look back at her friend. Her expression was a strange one. The pained look of someone who was watching a loved one on the precipice of some kind of soul-crushing, self-destructive cycle. As if she was seeing his inevitable snowball down a slippery slope of behaviors that was going to lead to his death. A cold, lonely death that probably involved some kind of corpse-related STI.
Then the expression was gone, replaced with a stoic determination. She was not going to let that happen. She loved him too much to just stand by and watch that sort of tragedy unfold. So she nodded to herself, saying nothing more on the subject, just pasting on one of her odd, rictus grins before giving direction. “Finish your food and come play videogames with us, so Chase doesn’t think we’re making out or whatever.