Who: Heather Miller heathermiller & Henry Townshend room_302 What: Random Run-In When: Early October Where: Farmer's Market Rating/Warnings: Low/Light Cursing Status: Closed/Completed GDoc
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Fresh ingredients for cooking were important, and Heather always bought local if she could manage it. She loathed going to grocery stores, although, there were some items that she couldn't buy locally so she didn't have much of a choice. The Farmer's Market was the best place to purchase what she needed for meals over the next few days, and she could place some orders for the deli part of Miller's Meats while she was at it as well.
It was a win/win in Heather's opinion.
Heather browsed through the stalls, picking up a few veggies here and there, and looking at the pumpkins that were in season. Heather hadn't found one that she liked just yet, though she hoped that would change as she needed to decorate her shop. The search for a perfect pumpkin continued on, and Heather had faith that they would find one.
She'd just actually finished placing an order with a vendor she often dealt with when she spotted another stall selling some rather large, and beautiful pumpkins. Heather turned to finish paying the vendor for her order, thanked them, and then picked up her one bag that she had.
It would figure that she would turn just a little too quickly, step forward a little too fast only to run smack dab right into someone. Heather grunted softly as she hit them, wishing that she'd been a bit quicker on her feet to keep from smacking into someone.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry." She began apologizing as she stepped back, one hand held up as she offered the man an apologetic smile.
“Omf!” Henry stumbled forward when someone ran straight into his back. His camera attempted to lurch out of his hands and he fumbled for a few panic inducingly long seconds before he felt his hands grip it firmly again. Once the crisis was over anger immediately flew up Henry’s throat into his mouth, causing him to whirl on the person who had run into him.
He’d expected to see some hipster standing there glaring at him as Henry accusingly, as if Henry’s mere existence was solely for the annoyance of said hipster. Instead though he was beset by apologies that were accompanied by a sincere apologetic smile to match. A hand was even out to steady him as if he’d been in danger of falling over. Instantly all the wind was taken out of Henry’s sails leaving him sort of just staring at her.
“Oh, uh, no, it’s alright,” he heard his voice tumble out. “My fault, I just kind of stopped suddenly.” He laughed awkwardly, putting his hand to the back of his head, “sorry about that. Are you okay?”
Shaking her head, Heather could feel heat rising up into her cheeks from embarrassment. Damn her pale skin! "No, no. I should be watching where I'm going and not ogling the pumpkins across the way." She laughed softly at her admission for staring at produce because she really wanted several nice pumpkins to decorate her store, and maybe one or two for the windows that faced the street that her apartment was on.
"I'm fine." Heather waved a hand dismissively, "Nothing's broken, my produce is alright and I'm a bit tougher than I look." Heather might look small, but she was strong for a woman of her build. That had come from years of cutting meat, and she was proud to admit that she was a butcher. Her eyes moved over to the camera, a line appearing between her brows. "So, are you a photographer or a tourist trying to capture their moments in the OC?"
The girl’s face was turning beet red and Henry could feel eat rising up his own neck and spreading over his cheeks as though it was contagious. He laughed a bit along with her. “Good,” he said. He glanced towards the pumpkins. They were good looking pumpkins and he couldn’t blame her for looking at them instead of where she was going. He hadn’t exactly been paying attention either when he’d stopped suddenly in front of the stall selling what was being proclaimed to be fresh squeezed apple cider.
He stared at her for a moment not really registering her question. Then he looked down at his camera still clutched in his hand as though it were about to go flying again at any moment. “Oh!” He laughed awkwardly. “No, I’m a photographer. I...uh...well, fall in the southwest is kind of a weird creature and I was out trying to catch it. I mean, palm trees and chancing leaves and pumpkins all together in one spot. You don’t see that everywhere you go!” God, he was rambling and laughing like an idiot. He cleared his throat a little embarrassedly. “Uh...oh, hey, look, there’s apple cider. Can I get you some? Uh...as an apology for stopping so suddenly like I did?”
Heather had to admit that it was a strange creature out here. Texas saw some colder winters, and last year they'd actually had some snowfall as well as ice. She could definitely do without the ice, and the snow. She wasn't one for cold weather really, although she did love fall. The changing of the leaves, pumpkins (not that she favored a lot of pumpkin flavored things), and the cool mornings and warm days. That was what she loved about the fall.
"No, I can understand that." She agreed with a nod, a smile still on her face. Reaching up, Heather tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, willing the blush in her cheeks to go down. Her eyes flicked over to the stand selling apple cider, and she nodded. "Sure, although I still don't think you were completely at fault." Heather still believed that she could've been watching where she was going better. Shifting her bag to the other hand, she held out her now free right hand to him. "I'm Heather Miller, by the way."
“Henry Townshend,” Henry answered as he took the offered hand in a handshake. Her name sounded familiar, but Henry couldn’t recall the face that went with it. His heart started to beat a bit faster. Had he met this girl before somewhere? A lot of people went through the Picture Palace this time of year and Henry had gotten a number of freelance work recently. Had Heather come into the studio recently? Had she been at one of the events he’d been hired to photograph? Henry was usually pretty good at remembering people’s faces. The names that with them, however, not so much, which was irritating. There were few things worse than remembering someone’s face, knowing you knew them, but being unable to place a name or why you knew them.
This was the opposite problem, a familiar name, but being unable to remember the face or where he had heard that name before. Different, but no less irritating. And even a bit panic inducing. Henry found that people usually didn’t like being forgotten and often times were a little hurt or offended about it.
He fetched them both cups of warm apple cider and hoped that it would come to him if they talked a little bit more and hopefully not sound half as awkward or nervous as he felt. “Uhm, what were you buying?”
"Nice to meet you, Henry." She replied, giving his hand a firm shake in return. Letting go of his hand, Heather stood there and waited until he returned with the warm apple cider, and she brought it up to her lips to take a ginger sip. After swallowing, she glanced down at her bag. "I was placing an order for my shop. I like to have fresh vegetables to sell along with the meats, and plus we have a small deli section in there too. Nothing fancy, just if people want to stop by for a quick bite they can." She didn't want the shop to be known for its deli but for the meats that came from it.
Heather had worked too damn hard for it to be known like that. If she had to she would completely close down that section, and as it was, she might do it anyway.
"And personally I found some fall squash that I'm going to cook up tonight for dinner." Well, she'd probably have some left over to cook at another time, but she was definitely planning on making some for herself tonight. "Then I saw the pumpkins." Again, with the pumpkins, but Heather had been there to look for those as well. "So I figured I could buy some of those, along with a couple of corn stalks to decorate my store and outside of my apartment." She turned her head to look back over at Henry. "Are you here to do some shopping yourself or just to take photos?" She brought the cup of apple cider up to her lips to take another sip.
There wasn’t much from what Heather said that helped Henry place where he had heard her name before, although it was interesting.
“Do you like to cook?” He asked. Henry had learned to cook when he’d been young. His mother had taught him so that he could one day feed himself. Little had he known at the time that meant cooking for himself and his father after his parents’ divorced and his father was either unable or too busy to make anything more complicated than a pre-prepared meal that only needed to be thrown in the microwave, or a skillet if they were feeling particularly fancy.
Henry knew how to cook, but he didn’t do much cooking these days. He hadn’t had much of a desire for it.
He shook his head and chuckled, “no, I just came here to get a couple of shots,” he said, indicating the camera in his hands. “That’s kind of weird, right? Hanging out a farmer’s market taking pictures?”
Shaking her head, Heather let out a light laugh, "Not really. I just do it cause it's cheaper than eating out, though I originally started doing it because my mother's cooking is awful." She admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. There wasn't any point in lying, she enjoyed what she did for work, sure, but cooking was a different beast entirely.
There were too many margins for errors when it came to cooking, and God knew she'd burned her fair share of things before, although she'd gotten better at it over the years. Her father had definitely appreciated her cooking skills.
Cocking her head slightly, Heather's brows furrowed a bit while she mulled over his question. "No, I don't think so. There's a lot of beauty here, I can see why you would want to capture it." Heather didn't question that at all, she had merely been curious if he'd been shopping like her. She took another sip of her cider, enjoying the taste of it greatly. "Do you freelance, just take photos for fun, or both?" She asked, one brow raised in question.
“Both,” Henry said before taking a sip of cider. Cider was pretty much what Henry believed fall tasted like. Pumpkin spice was good and all, but cider was better. That it didn’t make for good lattes or muffins had regulated it to only being runner-up in autumn trends.
“I mean I do both freelance work and take photos for fun,” He went on. “I also do it full time. I work at The Picture Palace at one of the malls in Anaheim.”
Henry felt his heart skip a beat. Was that where he knew her? Had she come in to the store at some point for her picture taken? Would she remember now that he brought it up? Henry winced inwardly. That would be just his luck to piss off a customer.
"Oh, that's cool." She replied with a small nod of her head, "It's nice to be able to fuse your passion with your work. Well," she laughed softly, "they say if you do what you love you never work a day in your life." Heather could honestly say that she never felt as if she worked a day in her life either, even if her body said otherwise by the time she got home from the shop.
There were days where she was so sore, and stiff after a day that all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep for several days. Still, Heather found a way to do what she needed to do at home, but she'd often run herself a hot bath to soak in.
Epsom Salts had become her best friend on those days.
"I've not been to that mall. Hell, I don't have a lot of time to do much of anything except work and do grocery shopping, like today." She lifted her bag as if to prove her point and lifted a shoulder.
So she hadn’t been into the Picture Palace at Anaheim. That meant he wasn’t talking to a former client he’d forgotten about, which was good. Didn’t solve the mystery though. Henry sighed inwardly. He should just let the whole thing go. It wasn’t as though she’d actually said they’d met before. Her name just sounded familiar. Miller was a common last name and Henry had met a few Heathers before. That was probably it. Sure.
It still nagged at him.
Henry rolled his shoulders a little awkwardly. He gave Heather a half grin. “I’m lucky I’ve been able to make a career out of it.” Or starting to at any rate. He wouldn’t exactly call working full time at the Picture Palace a career. Once he could survive off of the freelance work he was getting, then he could say he was making a living doing what he loved.
“What about you?” He asked. “You said you own a store?”
Heather gave an understanding nod, "I can understand that." She'd never thought she'd actually become a butcher. Most of them were men, hell, it was a male dominated field but that was okay. She knew she could make it, and so had her mentor. He'd taught her a lot, and helped her get her foot in the door.
"I do. I'm a butcher." She smiled softly over at Henry, "I own and am the head butcher for Miller's Meats. It was a dream of mine. Some people asked me what the hell I was thinking when I decided to go into it, but it was something that I've always wanted to do." Heather lifted a shoulder, still smiling.
She couldn't exactly say why that was either, but she was happy enough doing it. "Well, Henry. It's been a pleasure, thanks for the cider, but I've got to find a perfect pumpkin from those beautiful piles over there." She pointed over to the stall and gave him a nod before reaching into her back pocket to produce a card, "If you ever need any fresh cuts of meat, come by and see me, alright?"
Henry was a nice guy, a little awkward, but so was she. Heather hadn't minded the brief company during her shopping trip, it was nice to talk to someone outside of her shop. Giving Henry another small smile, Heather tossed her cup away and headed for the stall, eyeballing the pumpkins as she neared them and thinking about what she could do at the shop.