[Gunster Dinner]
The time since New Year's Eve had been spent trying to figure out the convoluted mess that was Patrick's head. There was lots of pacing, my friend. Pacing at the lookout, pacing in the woods, pacing in his room at Con's, pacing in the backyard of the B&B. It wasn't death-metal end-of-the-world pacing. It was deep thoughts, just not of the Jack Handy variety. There was a lot of Taylor Swift playing in earbuds tucked into pointy ears that Patrick was working on embracing. He wasn't going to wear a beanie forever, dude, and he liked the shaggy hippy look, but he was going to get tired of those tangles posthaste. Con had been awesome about all of it, because Con was just awesome all around, but Patrick's head was swirling in a way that didn't have jack to do with the pot he partook in when 2016 fucked off.
Patrick was, when it was all said and done, a pretty simple guy. Which means all that pacing made him tired and hungry and, ultimately, he didn't get much accomplished. But he would. He would figure it all out. Life had just thrown him a serious curveball, and our boy wasn't wearing his mitt at the time.
So, he'd been slumming it. He figured it was an outward manifestation of his inner What The Fuck. But he did want to nosh with Adrian. Patrick didn't remember him much, but the guy seemed cool on the forums. Patrick was fully expecting Adrian and Connie to be beyond brilliant together, and he was expecting to contribute by asking for the potatoes to be passed, but Patrick loved his sister enough that he didn't give a shit about looking dumb. Not if it meant Con had someone else to hover over. Con, she loved hovering.
Enough of the mental acrobatics. Patrick was upstairs when Con called. He was strumming a guitar he barely knew how to play, and he set it aside. He was dressed from being out walking in the woods, and he knew Con would want him to get dolled up for Adrian, but Patrick wasn't feeling dolled up. He let his scraggly hair cover his ears, and he ran down the stairs in baggy khakis and a white tee layered over long-sleeve grey that didn't even remember better days. "Cooooooooooooooooooooooming!" Which he didn't scream until he was already in Con's face. "Leave it to me." He stooped to replace her lost shoe, and he set to fixing the table. "I can do everything, Con. I'll lead off with a knock-knock joke-" He looked back toward his sis, "- a good one. And then I'll segue into our favorite ghost stories. After that, we'll recount my wild days in the Scouts-" Another look back at his sis. "-all five days. And then I'll smooooothly work my way up to grilling him about every aspect of his life. I'll even take notes-" He winked. "-poorly."