Re: Bus stop: Misha & Lou
Lou knew both kinds of kin. Hadn't always been real attached to the idea which was why her mother's voice still grated when she picked up the phone and they both probably went for a cigarette after. She knew the kind that you grew up assuming was yours just because blood and bone happened to make for a matching set. And she knew the kind you built, person by person. Memory and experience making up for blood, drop by drop. Had lost kin, maybe that made all the difference. Because once you had it, you knew it for what it was, and you lost it, you carved in deep and refused to lose anymore.
The kid -- Misha -- nodded like he knew Adrian's tendencies well. Lou made a note, not just because the kid sounded like a grandpa, but knowing who knew Adrian well enough to hunt him down when he went good and silent was a good place to begin. She didn't moderate her handshake all that much, it was solid and firm and approving for the clasp of fingers that squeezed right back.
"What did trouble look like on you? It looked like a lot of the town jail on me," Lou said, wry as she leaned back into her seat. "I live alone, but if Adrian wants the spare room it's his. It's a choice," and Lou was fond of choices, but hers had narrowed real thin before they opened up once more. "He's a grown-ass man. I'm not going to back him into a corner and drag him along with me. But I'd have him. Welcome him, didn't used to be alone so much." Pack. Then jail. Both didn't make for much silence.
"Some people need it. Maybe they didn't get it early enough, when it would stick and they could learn to mind themselves."