All About Betty
Name (and nickname): Elizabeth Johnson, called Betty or Ace
FC: Laura Harrier
Age: 23
Occupation: works at The Bar with her brother, Luke
Traits: Resourceful, often out and about. Observant, believes herself to be good at reading people and situations. Competitive. Approachable and generally friendly. Warm, supportive and caring with her friends, but often with mordancy and a good dose of wry humour. Has the hardest time asking for help, without realizing, she is not good at opening up (reserved, one might say, altho if you buy a drink from her at The Bar, it wouldn't seem like it). She's usually daring and audacious, but her care-dare graphic is a parabola: after a certain limit, the more vulnerable she feels, the more she's going to recoil. Doesn't like showing their sensitive side. Great at giving advice, but bad at following them herself. Takes care of herself, vain about her appearance.
Info, personality & biography:
Betty and Luke were very young when they first showed up in town - seemingly a burden for their uncle who just got stuck with two kids after the death of his only sister. So, fun uncle Chuckles became uncle Charles in a very short time. The dynamics changed, the uncle changed, and by the time they realized their entire life changed overnight, it was a done deal. Luke and Ace spent many evenings and afternoons writing their homework in the backroom of the watering hole that was - very literally, maybe? - called The Bar. And uncle Charles was a very, very resourceful man: he would always come up with money last minute, he would always find the necessary liquor for the patrons of his bar, and he knew which patrons were safe to toy with and which ones were not. The only thing the good uncle did not know how to do is stop his outrageous lifestyle.
But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Oh, and Ace? Well, uncle Charles did not care for the name of his late mother, and Betty did get excellent grades in school.
While Luke saw nothing worth mimicking in his uncle’s behaviour - his was, and Betty believes always will be that hard work and an honest heart will get you places - Betty picked up on all the little things that can help you when you run a bar or you grow up a woman in this world. Observing people you encounter to detect potential trouble, being charming whenever it’s required and without crossing limits, stashing the good booze and occasionally, crossing that moral line just in case you need to get by.
Luke noticed it - no matter how much she liked to say her brother did not know her as well - so, he ultimately backed her wish to get out of this small town and head for the big city. It was a whole ordeal for her, the best thing that could have happened - at 18, you know everything, right?
Well, she did, and she left the town, enjoying whatever the world can offer. Which is a lot of things all at once, and very little confidential information that gives an honest reply. She went to seek a career, an education, to make it in fashion, maybe showbiz, or she found love? But the strings that come with the town have this strong pull on everyone there, Betty included, and the only thing that could have brought her back did happen: uncle Charles' outrageous lifestyle finally caught up to him and the fact he managed to hide the fact he was sick for an outrageous amount of time...well, that was the one last bit of fun uncle Chuckles in him. Distraction is easier than confronting your problems.
And that desire not to (over)share? It remains a strong part of her personality. Especially since she came back for uncle Charles' funeral and decided to stay - for a while, for a bit longer, forever? No one is sure. Again, so many unconfirmed theories she is not confirming nor disputing. She is there, maybe to stay, maybe not. Time will tell.
Gang alignment: Crocodiles. Established member (sorta, she got in earlier this spring).
Relationships:
Loves her brother Luke, thinks he's the best, and at the same time thinks he is too honest for this world (or, The Bar, because this is their primary source of money).
She's familiar with the Crocs and gets along well with the Dale siblings. She's friendly (perhaps friends that just fell out of practice when she moved out, but are picking up now she's back?) with Dale and Junior, and feels a bit protective over Peggy in these last few months.
She went to school with James and Zeke, has some business with James, and shares an estranged friendship with Zeke and Joe possibly.
Good terms with Billie, too. And possibly other members of the Crocs. Accepting the new ones with an open mind.
Interests: Rover. Jack. James. additionally, will try to write Luke & Peggy, because why not
What the F*** is Patience?
With the arrival of June and the hotter weather out in the nowhere, it only became reasonable that people started drinking earlier and more frequent - chatting outside was not an option as the high sun would burn your skin off and there is very little sense in sipping your beer warm. More customers meant she saw James and Gonzales more often, but she managed a better schedule for the deliveries, allowing Luke to be home by the time the Tigers arrived. Such was this very evening, altho they seemed to have been running late.
She hates the frizz in her hair, and no matter how much Peggy insists, the salon seems like everything she tells would be spilt outside the doors and it would have been easier if she just wrote it on her forehead. Not to mention things she fails to mention. So, self-hair care, and a few days ago it feels like she’s been here for an eternity, but it’s actually been a few months, and what is she thinking? Staying a few months more?
Perhaps, perhaps not. Hopefully not. She might even have a chance at dragging Luke back to LA with her if she gives it a try. Perhaps, perhaps not. The future remains unforeseen, but the present is… just hot, frizzy and somewhat painful. She’s had a few of those in the last years, evenings where she would be counting down the moment in which she’ll be able to kick her shoes (and bra) off.
So, right now the sound of knocking at the door is like a blissful melody for her ears.
“Finally,” she mussed, walking to the door after she set the broom near the bar. To her very surprise, the face on the other end is not the usual one peaking through doors slightly ajar. “Oh.”
He nudges them open with his shoulder, holding a huge box filled with bottles, half of a smirk on his lips, as he looked her up and down as he walked past her - at that moment, she tries not to do the same herself - and judging by the smug look, he might have noticed.
“Elizabeth,” Rover greeted her, letting himself in. He set the box next to the bar, patting his hands clean on his pants, before looking around for a second, giving Betty a glance, and reaching down for a glass. He smiled. “Delivery,” he chirped the word out like a melody, pulling out a bottle. She smiles back, letting out a long sigh, and closing the door. “Elizabeth, what’s with the sigh?”
“I just put those back,” Betty replied, walking up to him, trying to take the glass from him, but Rover shook his head, putting his hand, and glass with it, in the air.
“Nah,” he’s determined. “Go, sit down, let me help myself.”
“You seem like you do that quite often,” she buzzed the words with a very smug sense to them and pulls a chuckle out of him. Still, she makes her way to the other part of the bar, sitting on the stool opposite him. Rover leaned on the other side, resting his hand hands.
“What are you having, Elizabeth?”
“What’s with the recurring Elizabeth?”
“Testing it out, Betty. Liz?” he replied, before scrunching his nose and shaking his head a little bit. “I can’t, I really cannot. Elizabeth.”
“Are you going to bring the rest of the bottles inside or—”
“All business, no pleasure,” he shrugs, pulling on a screw off a bottle of tequila. “Fine, I’ll get the rest, but one drink, first.”
He poured one glass, before tilting the bottle towards her. Between the moments of considering the actual drink and throwing his smug ass from the bar, she is taking a glance at him properly, wondering how the hell they did not meet during the years she spent in this town? Maybe they did, she just cannot recall it.
“Not a fan of tequila,” Betty shakes her head, watching him getting comfortable right there.
“Gin gal?” he inquires with his head tilted sideways, but she shakes her head a little bit. “Well, aren’t you a mystery,”
“Am I?”
“And aiming to remain one,” he confirmed and she finds it an appropriate time for a very - very - smug one-sided smirk. “What?”
“You’ve asked around, then,” Betty concluded, and it would be a shameless lie to say she did not enjoy that.
“Ah, and you loving it gives me some information,”
“That I don’t really hate the spotlight, but you’ve met me, Rover, that’s hardly news,” she grinned, watching him twirl the liquid in the glass.
“And remaining a mystery, simultaneously.”
“Coming from a guy who is only known as Rover,” she teased out a chuckle out of him. There’s a short pause, it feels like a mutual assessment on both ends. She decides she’s had enough, he’s decided he needs that drink in the end, so he tossed it back. “So, what’s your real name, Rover?”
“My name is whatever you decide to call me,” he taps the empty glass on the bar. She’s unsure if this is some sort of attempt at flirting, or if he is playing with her, but she doesn’t mind it either way.
“Lord,” she rolled her eyes, but an amused smile still curls her lips upwards.
“I mean, if you insist, we can go with that,” Rover chuckled. “We’d get there anyways, eventually.”
“Wow,” Betty tries to play to her cool for a little bit more, but he is funny, she’s not going to try to deny that. She leans onto the bar. “But don’t let me stop you, are you gonna pour me that drink, or what?”
He throws his arms playfully, happy with the decision she has just made. “Since this is your bar, your wishes are to be granted, Elizabeth.”
Before she’s ready with a witty reply, headlights shine into the bar, and she turns around wondering if she locked the front door. She’s about to turn around, but the car drives right by and when she’s turned again, he’s smiling.
“Don’t worry, your brother is hanging out with his adopted children,” Rover jokes, and it feels correct enough - it felt like Luke took over being the responsible person in the Dale household lately, and judging by the fact Peggy was flunking high school, maybe he was a bit too late? But, pressing matters are at hand now: Rover, standing very confidently in front of her. And right now, there is another glass that just appeared on the bar, right in front of her.
“Vodka soda,” he announced.
“Nightcap,” she declared, picking her glass up to clink it into his, now empty. He reached down for the bottle, but she shakes her head, smiling. “As you said, we’re here for business, not pleasure, Rover.”
“Worth a try,” he mussed, attempting another smile. He protested for a minute more but ends up bringing one more box from his car. Once he’s back in, he pours himself another drink (vodka soda this time), with Betty observing from her high seat at the bar. He walks past her, sitting down, elbows leaning at the bar, looking at the room. He tilts his head a little bit before taking a sip.
“So, Rover, where did you return from?”
“Here and there,” he sips on his drink, and she does the same.
“Ohio?” Betty asks.
“North Carolina, actually,”
“Never would have guessed,” she replied in a mocking surprise, taking a second to have another sip, almost finishing with it. “So, no answers?”
“I’ve never been quick to show my hand, Elizabeth,” Rover explained. “You might know a thing or two about that, I reckon.”
Once more, a witty reply escapes her, but they both take another sip, and she is fairly certain that she would have made a move if this was LA. Alas, it was not, so she stands up first, fixing her dress.
“Last call,” she announced, and he downed her drink.
“Thank you for the drinks, and the company,” Rover smiled, getting up. “I don’t suppose you can give me a ride to the Villa?”
“You drove here,” she chuckled.
“Oh, yeah,” he pulled the keys from his pocket. “See you in a few days.”
“Don’t be late.”
Come in with the Rain
She took her sweet time deciding on her outfit, letting Luke leave with his car - and what seemed to be a date, which is a surprise - and ended up in the first combination she pulled out because she is going alone and it’s dark anyways. So f*** it, Betty attends the movie in her car - the number of junk snacks in the back seat is matched only by the number of shoes she has packed in the trunk of the same car - and she’s not even that late, who needs those first ten-or-so minutes of the movie anyways?
She parks her car in the back, kicking her shoes off and her feet up the dashboard, opening a bag of Peanut M&Ms, trying to catch up with whatever the plot was, only she’s trying to remember if she was ever on this set, actually. And she’s also not very sure what happens at this part of the movie, but there is something that reminds her of LA, that last summer, in particular, and she can feel her brows furrowing, but before she’s overwhelmed by the feeling, there’s a commotion in the car next to her, and through the muffled sounds, and the screaming of the speakers. Still, she picks up on this plot easier than that of the movie: a guy and a girl, things are getting hot. Like, quite hot. There are hands, and there’s movement, she’s not sure if she would be fined as a peeping Tom soon if she did not stop, but it was hard to look away for a moment. Or, the movie might have been a bit too boring.
Just in time, a plot twist: things are getting too hot for the girl’s taste, as it seems and soon enough there is a purse put to his head. Normally, Betty is great at pop culture and she can tell the actors within seconds, but it took her a bit to notice the leading man of the doomed romance is James Reid himself. The girl remains a mystery - Betty is fairly certain they shared some class back in the day, but given her face was blocked by his, she gives herself a pass.
A giggle escapes her tho, as he gets out of her car, stumbling on his way out, and the giggle escaped her car, too, as he seemed to have noticed it. The shade of startled and baffled plays a game on his features as he realized this romance drama that wanted to be an erotic thriller is observed very closely.
Before he’s able to make anything out of it, or any words escape her, the car from which he was just tossed out drives off, leaving everyone around them annoyed. James, almost as if caught between decisions, turns towards a car, before turning back towards Betty.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing?”
“Watching the movie play out,” she laughed, as he approached the car, step by step, and leans on the door. Betty looked him up and down. “What was that?”
“Misunderstanding,” James explained, and for a moment, she think she is feeling embarrassed about it. No, James would never - so she scoffed, turning her head towards the screen. “Hey! It was—”
“Whatever you say,” she replied. “Loverboy,” slips beneath her breath, along with another giggle, before she takes her eyes off the screen and back to him. Leaning on the door - still - he looked around them, leaning down.
“What are you sayin’ here, huh?” he requested to find out, but she just leaned into her seat, tossing some more M&Ms into her mouth, not paying any attention to him. Altho, in all fairness, she did not pay much attention to the movie either. “Look, whatever you think you saw—”
“Gosh, Reid, I’m not going to go around town talking to people about how you got tossed out of a car in the first fifteen minutes of the movie,” she sighs, glancing at him. “I won’t, why would I? I feel this story is already out there, I can just confirm it,” Betty chuckled, shrugging a little bit.
“God, you know—”
Tap is heard, then another, and he glances around as this loud tapping - summer rain pours down in a second, and before she’s even aware of what’s happening, there’s a pull on the handle, and James is already in the car, sliding her into the other seat of the spacious bench. He tossed his hair lightly with his hand, letting out a sigh.
“What are you doing?”
“Come on, you can’t kick me out into the rain,” he complained. “Not after—”
James stopped, but she grinned.
“Admission of guilt,
“Absolutely not,” he disagreed. “You’re delusional,”
“Oh, right, I am,” Betty mocks his serious tone of voice, nodding her head along the lines of what he would have done. She chuckled in the end and took some more sweets. The rain kept on pouring, and he looked around, eyes falling onto the stash of sweets in the back seat.
“Hey,” she says as he reached out for it. “It’s polite to ask first, especially after someone lets you into their car not to ruin your hair,” she teased, eyes switching between him and the movie screen in front of them.
“You brought a ton anyway,” he replied. “All of this just for one person?”
“My god, aren't you dancing on this edge of impropriety,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. He remains in that position, but she glanced at the back seat, catching his eyes then. “Fine, help yourself.”
The rain was relentless, the cinema even pushed the speakers on louder. Betty settled into her space, closing the passenger seat window fully, before turning towards James again, as he helped himself to some Peeps. He looks at her, a one-sided smirk playing on his lips, and she continues paying her attention to the movie. No idea what went on there, anyways, but he would not keep her distracted from trying to figure it out.
“Won’t you throw me out?” James asks, settling down more comfortably in the car.
“If you give me a good reason, I might,” Betty stated. James seemed happy with the answer, before nudging at the screen
“What’s happening here?”
“These two are falling in love,” she guessed. “Or, they are breaking up,”
“You’re not watching?”
“Well, it’s rather boring,” she admitted.
“What are you doing here, then?”
“What else is there to do in this town?” Betty replied. “It’s filmed in this famous studio lot, where I used to work,” she continued. “See that sign back in the street? It says Saloon,”
“Yeah, so?”
“They have forgotten to change it more than a few times, but the sign has been set up for some western movie,” she concluded with a chuckle. “Why would there be a saloon in the middle of New York?”
“God, you’re really bored,” he concluded, and she rolled her eyes.
“There’s very little to do in this town, we’ve concluded that already,” she stated.
“Why are you staying here, then?” James asks, tossing one more peep into his mouth. “Big guy doesn’t seem like he needs help running the joint.
“That’s a great question,” Betty replies, leaning towards the bag, taking one peep from him. “I don’t feel like leaving just yet,”
“Scared, aren’t you?”
“I’ve left before,”
“You’ve returned, too,” he says.
“No one’s stopping me to do either,” she concluded, but he seems utterly unimpressed by that. A moment of silence is upon them, but the rain is stopping a little.
“So, you used to work at the movie studio?” James asks, finally. “You’re pretty enough to be on the screen, too.”
Betty smirks. “I’m afraid whatever you’re aiming to achieve won’t get you far.”
“Just an observation,” James replied
“Trust me,” Betty says. “I don’t have the stomach for the life.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Experience,” she replied
“It doesn’t seem so horrible looking from here,” James continued. “ Seeing yourself on the big screen, running ‘round in hot cars, the company of the great men… from here, it sounds like a dream.”
“That’s a very male perspective,”
“Only one I have,” James replied with a grin.
“Fair enough.”
“So?” he asked after another break.
“So?”
“So, am I going to see you in any of these movies?”
She looks at the screen, something happening (obviously, but she was really not paying attention). “I never got that far, I don’t have—”
“—the stomach for it, yes, you’ve told,” James concluded, diverting his attention to the screen now too, but she can see him looking back in a second or two. “Why’d you return?”
“My uncle died,” she said flatly.
“You stuck around,”
“I might be using my brother as an excuse to stay because I haven’t got a fucking clue on what to do next,” she says, and he seems surprised by the answer, letting out some sigh. “I would not admit that to a living soul, of course, but this really was a relief.”
“You just told me,” he said, picking up some more peeps from the bag which was now almost empty.
“Who’s going to believe you?” Betty chuckles. “Firstly, that we spent all of this time together in a car, watching a movie, and secondly, that I would say such a thing?”
He’s silent for a second, before letting out a laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “Damn, you might be right.”
There’s some movement around, the movie wrapping up and Betty slides over a little, watching his expression turn smug, James sitting up as she leaned over towards him. The playful smile, as she reaches over, missing his arm and grabbing the door handle. “Not going to happen,” she concludes, sitting back, and fixing her hair.
“You’re very cruel,” James said, and she chuckled at that
“Keeps me young.”
“What a shame, really,” he brushes her hand, before sliding out of the car, and she pulls back into the driver's seat. He glances around, and she calls out his name once again.
“James?”
“Betty?”
“Get yourself a jacket, you’ll catch a cold.”
Where we gonna go?
“Did you have any food at all?”
“Luke,” she tried.
“Coffee is not food,” he stated, and glanced at her, but she offered him a sour smile instead. Still, she sits down, crossing her legs and sipped on her coffee while he ate his food. “Fruit?”
Betty scrunched her nose, shaking her head a little bit. “Coffee.”
“Your stomach will—”
“Remain as strong as it was, Charles fed us questionable things our entire life, strong stomach is part of my charm.”
“How do you manage to sleep?”
“I’m ever-vigilant,” she smirks through the silence in the next moment, and he can tell something is about to be said out loud.
“How did your date go?”
“Bette,” he tried, but she would not budge. Not today. “I have nothing to say,”
“I’m your sister,” she attempted, touching the coffee pot sitting on the table, but he seems genuinely disgusted (or worried, it looks very similar) and she leaves it be. “Luke,”
“You know, I’m not shaking you down on information about you and James Reid, or Rover visiting the bar right after closing two nights in a row,”
“I mean, you already know the information, clearly,” she replied. Luke stays silent. “Are you angry at me?”
“No,” he replied almost immediately, and genuinely.
“Nothing is happening—”
“I’m not angry, why would I be? You can have friends, altho I feel Reid might not be—”
“Well, the entire Crocs and Tigers—” and right there, she realized he might not be into this as much as she believed he was. She stays silent, glancing as her brother went to the garbage disposal to get rid of the leftovers, washing his plate while he was there. He turns, over his shoulder, noting her staring.
“It’s just part of what’s happening here,” he replied. “Crocs vs. Tigers, it’s part of the town, part of our teen years, part of our growing up, it helps pay bills to always have people bring the traffic in.”
“Yeah,” Betty scoffed. “Growing up, we’ve done that.”
“You joined a few months ago,” he laughs, shaking his hands, then patting them dry into a rag on his shoulder.
“I thought you’d appreciate it,” she replied nonchalantly. “And that it might be a smart move, to seal the belonging in this town—”
“Why would you need that?” he chuckled, leaning onto the sink. “Don’t tell me you’re back for good?”
There was it, the first time it was said out and in the open, the big question. He looks at her disbelief, or just surprise, turns into something she was not able to identify either, and she can feel it coming very easily. Closing down. “Oh,” she scoffed but didn’t actually say a thing. Shrug, a very clumsy one, and she crossed her hands on her lap before there was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it!”
Betty darted up like she was stung by something, hearing Luke as she left the kitchen. “Bette!”
“Piglet?”
Peggy stands at the door, glancing around them, hands in the pockets of her black jacket. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” Betty nodded, letting the girl in.
“Betty,” she began, but quickly glanced over Betty’s shoulder. “Is Luke here?”
Betty looks over her shoulder, too, and nods as she looked back at Peggy. “Yeah, but he’s doing the dishes, or if you want—”
“I need your help,” she says, and while one might take it a little bit more seriously, Betty is aware Peggy would not ask for help on something that was an actual problem. “But you have to promise me not to tell—”
“A living soul, and more importantly, your brothers as well as mine?” Betty crossed her hands. “Sure, I promise."
Peggy grinned. “Rad.”
“So?”
“So, I need some booze…” she used what Betty assumes is a voice that would normally get her long enough.
“Peggy,”
“Betty, it’s one small bottle of vodka—”
“Peggy,” Betty intensified the tone, but not her loudness and Luke peeps from the kitchen.
“What’s— oh, Peggy, what are you doing here?”
“Borrowing some lipstick,” Betty replied, turning around. “Your friend Dylan has some really strict rules,
“Yeah,” Luke nodded, returning to the kitchen. Betty nudges towards the door, leading Peggy out.
“Betty, please—”
“Good god, girl, get a hold of yourself,” Betty cuts her short. “What do you need it for?”
“There’s a dance happening,” she says, mischievous grin tilting the corners of her lips upwards. “And I think it would be a bit more fun if everyone got a little bit more fun, too,”
“Your brother is going to murder me,” Betty replied.
“Hey,” Peggy stops her, very seriously. “I would never snitch on you.”
Betty smiled - that might have been the most genuine thing she heard in the last few days. “Damn it, Peggy.”
“I get it,” she says. “I mean, Luke would definitely tell Dylan and—
“One bottle, Peggy,” she says, serious tone and all that. “One, and if I—”
The screeching sound of excitement makes her stop, giggling. “Thankyouthankyouthank—”
Betty tries to silence her, glancing through the window, but Luke seems to be busy with something else entirely. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it to you tomorrow, I’m due some more bottles tonight anyways.”
Peggy left with a grin plastered onto her face. Betty tried to think of a way to explain a missing bottle of vodka but considered a more pressing - and much more fun - matter at hand. The delivery.
Luckily - or not, depending on who you ask - the day is long, but there is the end of the shift that she just cannot wait for. By the time she’s done with the cash register, she is partly regretting the fact she promised vodka to Peggy. Rover was fun, but her feet hurt horribly.
He’s not late this time, tho. The car is heard pulling up, and she rushed to lock the front door, just in time for a knock in the back. With a few hasty steps, she makes it back there.
“Did you miss me?”
Smugness is there, he holds up a box and one bottle from it, and she grins at the bottle (mostly, if anyone should ask about it, altho they won’t), taking it from his hand, and walking straight past him, and back towards her car. The second she’s back, they’re both walking inside, Rover setting the bottles on the ground next to the bar. It was his third delivery, but it felt like they’ve both caught up with their roles now: Elizabeth, Rover, one drink, he pours, she waits.
“Let me quickly explain to you how owning a bar works,” he grinned, skipping towards the drinking part. “You own it, so by stealing a bottle, you’re only—”
“I haven’t had a drink yet, Rover, are you sure you’d like to teach me a business lesson?”
“Hey, you might learn a few things yet,” he stated, pouring them both the same drink. It was rum and coke the last time, but it was too sweet, and this time around, it looked like a whiskey on the rocks. “Also, what was with the petty theft?”
She’s confused.
“Bottle of vodka you took to your car way too fast,”
“Not to forget it,”
“Forget what?”
“Bottle of vodka. What did you smoke tonight?”
He chuckled, rolling his eyes. “I could ask the same. So, up to no good?”
“I’m not confirming nor denying that,” Betty replied as if she was being questioned at a station.
“Spoken like a girl that’s up to no good,” he replied, and Betty grinned at that. “Okay, that was a clear confirmation. So, what are you up to, Elizabeth?”
“None of your business, Rover,” she says. “Are you going to tell me your name? Or just confirm this is it and your parents were painfully funny when they had you?”
“I would do neither, not this soon,”
“Oh, but this is our third week of mutually pleasurable business activities,” she argues. “We do business, we drink, we talk, we can also share.”
“But only my name? Not the reason you’ve packed up your life into a car and arrived back for the funeral which was months ago?”
“Yes, only your name,” Betty confirmed.
“Tough luck, Elizabeth, I’d show you mine if you showed me yours,” he teased, and she gives a little shrug, rolling her eyes, taking a sip of her whiskey.
“I really doubt that,”
“I guess we’ll never know,” Rover said. There’s a moment of silence. “Who stays three months after the funeral?”
“Who just shows up without any excuse?”
“Someone who’s perfectly fine with doing just that,” he argued and she can see the point - just to be able to do as you wish, no questions asked, nothing else to add to your reasoning.
“I mean, I can say the same then?”
“I guess,” he shrugs. “But I’d still wanna know who you ran away from? Crime?”
Betty laughed. “You are stubborn, I’ll give you that.”
“You robbed a bank, you returned back here, but—”
“Someone would have come asking for me,” she says. “It doesn’t fit this logic.”
“Okay, so, debt?”
“I’ve been helping Luke with this place, it’s doing better than before, so guess again,” she rolled her eyes.
“Gambling debt,” Rover suggested, but then corrected himself immediately. “But then you wouldn’t arrive in such a nice car, I’m guessing, it’d be more valuable sold.”
“See? You can reach the right conclusions when you put your mind to it,” Betty teased, clinging her glass to his, smirking. She tossed the rest of it back, as he displays a lovely example of a Cheshire cat grin.
“What’s left, if not money or crime?” Rover anticipates the answer, but she remains silent. “Love, of course.”
Betty scoffed, feeling it was time to back out of this conversation. He picks up on it, smugness returning to light up his features as he tossed his drink back. “Gotcha.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to play it off as something irrelevant.
“Don’t you think it would have led new people here, too?”
“Not if you were scarce with information as you normally are,” Rover offers. “Maybe you did not share anything about your past?”
“Yeah, you boys really go for a mysterious stranger easily,” Betty scoffs, but he can sense he is finally in the lead, and there is no backing out of it now.
“So, you might have shared nothing, he wouldn’t have known where to find you,” Rover replied. “And you do have a habit of checking the cars as they drive by, especially late in the night,” he plays to his tune more, and she gives a shrug.
“Sure,” Betty says.
“I’m right?”
“Sure, whatever flows your river,” she tries to sound indifferent, and for a second it feels like he is playing along. “Anything else in this little fable you created?”
“I’m not sure, give me a second to investigate a moment longer,”
“I’m afraid you don’t have it,” she replied, watching the clock. “I need to sleep,”
“Elizabeth, but we’re having such a lovely time,”
“We’ll have to resume another time,” Betty said, and a yawn escapes her. The pleasant teasing continues as they lock it up, and get out, with Betty noticing there is only one car there: hers. “I thought you drove here?”
“Gonz dropped me off,” Rover fixed his jacket, as the chilly desert air cooled the town down. Betty smiles, heading to her car, but not before turning around.
“Jump in, then, I would not forgive myself if something happens to you,”
“Didn’t think of you as someone sentimental,”
“You deliver my booze, Rover, of course, I am,” she joked, as they both got into the car. Rover makes a few (un)funny remarks about her driving, and she does on the fact she could have easily let him walk or drop him off at another part of the town. He gets out not far from the villa - she is absolutely not delivering him right to the doorstep - and he gets out, but stops for another moment at her side of the car.
“Remember where we left off, would you?”
“Hell no,” she smiled.
“You, LA and this pretty getaway car you drive,” he chuckled as he gave a little wave. “See you soon.”
“See you soon.”
Won’t you whisper soft and slow?
She admits it took them a bit longer than a second to get to the idea, but she is quite happy with herself as they reach it, while she roams the shelves of the grocery store it feels like a good decision. Modern family, the Dale and the Johnson siblings having dinner together, all under one roof, and as she walks into the kitchen, Peggy waiting, already busy with some potatoes, she would have suggested they remained in their kitchen because someone actually cooked there and she knew her way around.
Luke and Dylan remind her they might be late before they leave and hand her just enough time to pass the vodka to the ever-grateful Peggy before Jack returned to the kitchen, helping himself to some icy-cold water. Betty glanced out the window - there was a pot roast in the oven, and she begins to question her own insanity as it heats up the kitchen additionally, so she picks herself a glass of water and leaves to the yard, joining Jack.
“I didn’t know you had a bike,” she says.
Jack chuckled, getting up from the ground. “I don’t, not just yet, at least.”
“Oh,” she says. “Cookie—”
“Helps me, yes.”
“Kind of her,” she replied.
“No more teasing then?”
“Only if I get bored,”
“I’ll give you a moment, then,” Jack replied. He sits on the bike, turning over his shoulder to glance at her. “Have you ever been on one?”
“Drove it, even,” she grins. Jack got down, and continued with some light work - she assumes, Betty knew nothing about mechanics. “A friend of mine has a newer make, in LA, and it’s just dreamy to drive early in the morning when the sun isn’t scorching the skin off your shoulders,”
“Your friends haven’t been to visit since you got back,” he continued, grimacing as he tried to reach something. “I mean, I thought you were here— shortly—”
“Let me help,” she says, getting from the lawn chair, and next to him. “What are we aiming to do?”
Jack takes her hand, and places it under the exhaustion pipe, before pushing her hand a bit more in between the two of those. “There’s a bit of metal stuck there, it makes an annoying noise—”
“Oh, okay, sure,” she nods, readjusting there, before digging the bit of loose metal out of there.
“Bear hands,” he grinned. “Thanks,”
“No problem,” Betty replied, getting a rag from the table, and wiping her hand down. “So, you’ll take it for a longer ride once you’ve finished the repair?”
“I hope so,” he replied. “I’ll get a map, some money, and a tent, possibly, if I finish before the weather goes bad,”
“Sounds like it,” she agreed. “Adventure awaits,”
“You should know,” he smiled, sitting back up on it. “How come you’ve returned?” She’s about to make a snarky note about the funeral, but he’s shaking his head apologetically. “I mean, I know why, but, like, you’re—”
“Still here?”
“Yeah,” he nods. “Don’t get me wrong, we like having you here—”
“That’s lovely of you to say,” she replied. “Despite knowing what’s coming next.”
Jack smiled, quite honestly, and she was not sure if she should expect from him to skip to the other topic when she is the one that hounds things down when she’s truly interested, and he seems to be curious about it.
“I would have assumed you’d be long gone by now,” he admits.
“LA is gorgeous this time of year,” she admits. “I mean, California…”
“You’ve been around?”
“Not many places,” she replied. “LA, of course, I lived there. And some studios on the outskirts of the city, and I visited Napa,”
“Vineyards?”
“Yeah, but nature is so much more, I can tell you,” she smiled. “And I feel you would have liked it,”
“How come?”
“You seem like you would appreciate nature and vast wilderness,” she says. “I mean, endless roads, some places with very little people, only wine as far as eyes can see, and roads, some country houses,”
“Seems like it wouldn’t take me too much to like it,” Jack agreed.
“You’re right,” she replied. “And maybe Vegas, even? I mean, it’s very different from LA—”
“You’ve been to Vegas? There’s very little to do when you’re not 21—”
“When you’re a gorgeous young person in LA or Las Vegas, there are always options, trust me,” she chuckled.
“Don’t tell Peggy,”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she grins. “Dylan would have my head for it,”
“Oh, he’d just be so annoying you’d volunteered it on your own,” Jack replied. “So, you’re not going back?”
“I might be,” she says with less determination than she usually does. “I mean—”
“Oh, no, I meant because you came with all your stuff packed,” Jack replied. “It didn’t look like someone coming for a short while when you returned,” he says.
“Girls never pack lightly,” she tries to laugh it off, but he seems to be in another mood.
“Come on,” he gave a sympathetic smile that stung her even if it had no malice behind it. “That’s not the arrival of someone passing by.”
Betty remains silent, giving a shrug. “Maybe I had no plans,”
“No plans can be a plan, too,” he replied. “I mean, if it was me, I would have left already.”
“You know you can, right?” she tries to be playful about it, but he seems to be mourning a life he did not even start, and it wasn’t too late, at least from her perspective.
“I guess,” came out of his lips a bit more nostalgic than she would have guessed, and before she can say more, he turns the bike on. “Hell yes!”
Betty jumped, laughing. “Come on,” Jack tossed the only helmet he had to her. “Let’s test it out.”
She’s happy to oblige, putting it onto herself, before sitting behind him.
“Now, pray we get out the driveway at least.”
“Actually, I’ll pray we can return from however far we go.”
Given the number of drinks she has on the following evening, it's a good thing she was so overstuffed on the dinner. She hasn't attended a town dance in years, and the changes they'd made were quite something else.
While she was down with the drinking, the familiar smell of pot really made her turn down all the baked goods - she was no in the mood to become one, too.
edit:
DONE!
Last edited by Zaralee (17/10/2022 at 15:46)
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