It hadn't exactly been the best day. Wyatt and Rachel were sitting in the cafe during Rachel's break, each drinking their own coffee, neither one speaking. Wyatt sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking around at all the other people currently in the shop.
"They all make it look so easy," he said, "it always looks so easy from the sidelines, but then, once you're involved, it seems so impossible, and it shouldn't feel impossible, it should feel easy. I'm not saying it shouldn't take any effort, but it shouldn't feel forced."
"Everything's always felt forced," Rachel said, "everything with everyone, always and forever."
"That's a bit dramatic," Wyatt replied, smirking.
"Because it's true," Rachel said, "because nothing with other people is every easy at all in any remote way. You're always questioned, doubted, or entirely disregarded on some level or manner. And even when you think you've finally met the one, when you're finally happy and your dream has come true, it's never the way you want it to be."
"That's life," Wyatt said, picking up his cup and lifting it back to his lips, taking a long sip.
"Says the guy who has everything," Rachel scoffed quietly.
"Excuse me?" Wyatt said, surprised.
"Let's face it, of all of us, you're the one who's made it. Maybe Celia, on some level, but nobody is at the level you're at. You don't have to worry about money or anything, you can just go out and buy your daughter a pony," Rachel said sternly, "meanwhile the rest of us have to work shitty jobs cause we didn't inherit a hugely successful company from our fathers, and in fact, some of us don't even have fathers who want to speak to us."
"Believe me, I'd rather not speak to my father," Wyatt muttered, "...but I guess you're right. That was insensitive of me. I apologize."
They both continued drinking and looking around at all the happy couples.
It hadn't exactly been the best day.
***
"You know," Angie said, "when I offered to help you with things, I didn't think they'd be as mundane as grocery shopping."
"Hey," Wyatt said, pushing the cart along an aisle, "you're the one who offered up her services, so I'm gonna put you to work."
"Why did you even want me around?" Angie asked, sipping on the straw in her slushie.
"Because it's nice to be around a woman who isn't questioning every little thing I do," Wyatt said flatly. Angie didn't know this, but earlier that morning, before Wyatt had called Angie up, he and Scarlett had gotten into an argument, an argument that, coincidentally, involved Angie. Angie just shrugged and continued walking alongside the cart as Wyatt grabbed things from the shelves and haphazardly tossed them into the cart. As they turned a corner, Wyatt suddenly backed up and pushed Angie back with him.
"Ow, you ran over my foot! What the hell," Angie asked.
"That's him," Wyatt whispered, peeking around the corner, Angie doing the same. Standing at the end of the aisle was, in fact, Ricky. Wyatt didn't know he was staying in town, much less shopping at his grocery store. Wyatt chewed his lip as he watched the airline investigator choose a brand of bread.
"Who's him?" Angie asked.
"That's the guy who came to my house," Wyatt said, "asking about the crash. He's...he's with the airlines, he's investigating the crash. Says he thinks someone planted an explosive device in someones luggage."
"And why's he talking to you?" Angie asked, furrowing her brow.
"Because the only person who survived is a friend of ours," Wyatt said, "I didn't expect him to be hanging out around town, but I guess he must be interviewing Rachel and Kelly at some point. Would only make sense."
"So why are we hiding from him?" Angie asked.
"Because he has the ability to make my life extremely difficult," Wyatt said under his breath, "and the last thing I need right now is more difficulty."
***
Rachel was folding her laundry and hanging other pieces up when Sun Rai came into the bedroom. As Rachel turned, she jumped a little at the sight, laughing. She finished hanging up a jacket and then turned all her attention to Sun Rai, who was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.
"What's up?" Rachel asked, "I've got to get to work soon, so I'm just putting this laundry away first and-"
"Were you in Stonyham the other week?" Sun Rai asked, catching Rachel off guard.
"Uh, ye-yeah. I went with my friend Calvin," Rachel said, "he was looking for some supplies for something he's making in his shed. He does a lot of metalwork and stuff. Builds a lot of shit. Why?"
"Because my mother said she saw you," Sun Rai said.
"Well, the hell is your mother doing there? That's no place for moms," Rachel asked, making Sun Rai chuckle.
"Valid question," she said, "but still. What were you even doing down there?"
"I was with Calvin, I told you," Rachel said, "he didn't want to go alone, ya know, cause the area is so...uncouth, so he asked me to come along with him. Don't know why he thought my presence would make a difference. Last thing a bunch of drug dealers and gang bangers are gonna be scared of is a hundred and twenty pound white girl, but hey, who am I to question."
Rachel tied her apron around her back and turned to Sun Rai, kissing her on the cheek and smiling.
"Now I do have to get to work, okay?" she said, and exited. She should've just told Sun Rai that she went and got medication off the street, but...but she was so scared that Sun Rai would judge her for it. So scared that she would see her flaws for what they really were, and, in turn, pull away. What Rachel didn't realize was that by not doing just that, she was in essence pulling away herself, inadvertantly. Sun Rai watched Rachel get her purse and leave the apartment, still just wondering about the whole mess. She knew Rachel had mental health issues, but she had no idea just how severe they were, and as Rachel had put it to Wyatt later that afternoon, "if my parents abandoned me because of it, people who, by all rights, should never abandon their child...what chance do I have of a romantic partner sticking around?"
Some people just don't understand love.
***
"What should we do about him?" Angie asked as she helped Wyatt pile his groceries into his car. Wyatt pulled the trunk down and stared at her.
"Nothing," he said, "we do absolutely nothing."
"Yeah, because that gets things accomplished," Angie remarked.
"Listen," Wyatt said, pulling his keys from his jacket pocket and opening the car for them both to climb inside; he continued, "as long as nobody says anything, he'll have nothing to work with and eventually leave. Kelly had nothing to do with the crash, she's innocent as rain and he knows it. It was an act of God, not my God but somebodies God, and that is what the airline is going to have to live with. Sometimes there's nobody at fault. Sometimes shit just happens."
But there was someone at fault, and Wyatt felt disgusted with himself for even trying to believe there wasn't. He climbed into the drivers seat, Angie in the passenger, and he pushed the key into the ignition, the both of them pulling on their seatbelts.
"If he's causing you trouble, though-" Angie started, but Wyatt immediately interrupted her.
"Right now he isn't causing anyone any trouble, he's just doing his job," Wyatt said, "and hopefully when he's done with that, because there's nothing to gain, he'll leave. Someone put a bomb in Kelly's bag. It's fucked up but it happens. Domestic terrorists are a dime a dozen, and they choose their victims at random."
"But why would someone want to blow up a plane filled primarily with members of the Evergreens?" Angie asked, and Wyatt looked at his steering wheel, his eyes watering, and Angie suddenly understood; her voice lowered, and she whispered, "...you know who did it, don't you?"
"I had no idea he'd do this," Wyatt said, "which is so stupid, considering what he'd done before. For some reason I...I just ignored the signs, the warnings. If he's capable of this, what else could he do? That's what everyone keeps asking me. I know something has to be done, but...but I don't know what. I can't just turn him into the investigator, that would destroy my life as well, and I can't kill him, cause, well, that's very obvious why. I'm stuck, Angie, I'm just...I'm fuckin' stuck."
Angie looked at Wyatt, her mind racing a mile a minute. The man she worshipped was in pain, seeking out answers. Maybe...maybe this was how she could prove her worth to him.
"Well," she said, "like you said, he's just looking for answers he won't find, right? So let that be the end of it. You're probably right. Nothing will probably come of it. So let's just hope that that's the case."
"It was about you, you know," Wyatt said.
"W...what?" Angie asked, half laughing, confused.
"The fight I had with my wife this morning, it was about you," Wyatt continued, "she didn't understand why some random woman was coming to see me late at night on my driveway, calling my cell phone. I tried to explain to her that you were just a friend, someone I'd helped, and she seemed to buy that cause it's not totally a lie, but it was weird, defending you to my wife. Defending a damn near total stranger to the woman I've built a life with."
Angie reached out and touched Wyatt's shoulder, patting it gently.
"Everyone needs support," she said softly, "even the strongest of us. I didn't mean for my support to be an issue."
"You're not the issue," Wyatt said, half choked up, "...I just need help"
He hated admitting that.
***
"They say a partner is someone who's supposed to be on your side, right along with you, ride or die, right?" Rachel asked, "but...but Hollywood lied to us, and glamorized love to an extent it can't be attained. Nobody is going to agree with you one hundred percent of the time and sometimes you're gonna lie to eachother, and sometimes you'll break up and lose the one you really thought was your true love. There is no true love, though, is there? There's just....different levels of love. Some people are more fit for you than others, and some aren't fit at all."
Wyatt picked up his cookie from the basket Rachel had taken from the back shelf and bit into it, shrugging.
"Why you asking me?" he asked, mouth full of cookie, "I mean, shit, you think I'm any more well versed than you are? So I got married, big whoop, not a huge accomplishment. Anyone can do it. Doesn't mean I'm more knowledgeable about these things. Just means I found someone with standards low enough to want to be with me."
Rachel smirked. She appreciated Wyatt's honesty. The cafe was basically closed out for the night, and they were the only two still sitting inside. Rachel had locked everything up and shut most of the lights off. Being here, just the two of them, it harkened back to the beginning of it all.
"I don't know when or how things got so off track," Rachel said, "one minute we were just...talking about about politics, and suddenly we're knee deep in elephant shit, having blown up a man, having caused an airliner to crash. What the hell happened? If I'd known at the start what Calvin would get me involved with, I wouldn't have gone along with it. I mean, the man was in tremendous pain, sure, but...but that was his fight, not mine. Now it's all of ours. His poor choices, his bad decisions, have eaten our lives."
"I know," Wyatt said, nodding, chewing, "I know."
"What do we do about that? Cause I want my life back, Wyatt," Rachel said, "I want things to go back to normal. Sure it might've been boring, but fuck, at least I wasn't terrified twenty four seven. I miss normality. A life of crime isn't as fun as television makes it look."
"Are you asking me the same thing everyone else has?" Wyatt asked, "the same thing you've asked before? What do we do about him? Because frankly I have no idea. We can't turn him in. We can't kill him. The only thing we can hope for is maybe, MAYBE, he comes to his senses and takes full blame for everything himself. Otherwise...I don't see any good outcome for any of us."
Rachel sighed and rested her head on the table. She thought about that night. The reunion.
"He tricked me," Rachel said, "the night of the reunion, I was so upset because Sun didn't show up that I spent most of the evening out on the back steps with Calvin, drinking and making fun of everyone. He used my disappointment to gain my friendship. I know it's genuine, on some level, like...he wanted to get me medication, I know he does care, but at the same time it feels so sleazy looking back on it."
"That's people for you," Wyatt said, checking his watch.
"People suck," Rachel said, making Wyatt laugh.
"Yeah," he said, "most do."
He reached across the table and held her hand, and for a brief moment, they both felt a little better. Even if Calvin's friendship was on shaky grounds, they knew they always had one another no matter what. This was one friendship that nothing could break.
***
Ricky was starting to get undressed.
He'd taken a shower when he'd got back to the hotel, and was now getting changed into his pajamas. The TV was on, but was on mute, and he was busy cleaning his fingernails with a small brush as he watched, reading the subtitles. Suddenly there was a gentle knock at the door, and he walked over. He didn't answer, he just stood there for a moment, and then finally pulled the door open only to be greeted by nothing at all. Nobody was there. Ricky was confused, and stepped out a bit further, where he heard a soft crunch under his foot. He glanced down and saw a piece of paper, folded neatly in front of his door. Ricky bent down and picked it up, then went back inside, shutting the door behind him. He unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned the words.
"Dear sir, you don't know me, but I know what you're looking for. Wyatt Bloom isn't as innocent as he lets on. He knows what caused the crash, he knows who caused the crash. Return to his house soon enough. You'll get the answers you're looking for. I promise."
Ricky smirked. Looks like someone else believed in justice. He folded the paper back up, set it gently on the table with his other files, climbed into bed, and shut off the light.
"They all make it look so easy," he said, "it always looks so easy from the sidelines, but then, once you're involved, it seems so impossible, and it shouldn't feel impossible, it should feel easy. I'm not saying it shouldn't take any effort, but it shouldn't feel forced."
"Everything's always felt forced," Rachel said, "everything with everyone, always and forever."
"That's a bit dramatic," Wyatt replied, smirking.
"Because it's true," Rachel said, "because nothing with other people is every easy at all in any remote way. You're always questioned, doubted, or entirely disregarded on some level or manner. And even when you think you've finally met the one, when you're finally happy and your dream has come true, it's never the way you want it to be."
"That's life," Wyatt said, picking up his cup and lifting it back to his lips, taking a long sip.
"Says the guy who has everything," Rachel scoffed quietly.
"Excuse me?" Wyatt said, surprised.
"Let's face it, of all of us, you're the one who's made it. Maybe Celia, on some level, but nobody is at the level you're at. You don't have to worry about money or anything, you can just go out and buy your daughter a pony," Rachel said sternly, "meanwhile the rest of us have to work shitty jobs cause we didn't inherit a hugely successful company from our fathers, and in fact, some of us don't even have fathers who want to speak to us."
"Believe me, I'd rather not speak to my father," Wyatt muttered, "...but I guess you're right. That was insensitive of me. I apologize."
They both continued drinking and looking around at all the happy couples.
It hadn't exactly been the best day.
***
"You know," Angie said, "when I offered to help you with things, I didn't think they'd be as mundane as grocery shopping."
"Hey," Wyatt said, pushing the cart along an aisle, "you're the one who offered up her services, so I'm gonna put you to work."
"Why did you even want me around?" Angie asked, sipping on the straw in her slushie.
"Because it's nice to be around a woman who isn't questioning every little thing I do," Wyatt said flatly. Angie didn't know this, but earlier that morning, before Wyatt had called Angie up, he and Scarlett had gotten into an argument, an argument that, coincidentally, involved Angie. Angie just shrugged and continued walking alongside the cart as Wyatt grabbed things from the shelves and haphazardly tossed them into the cart. As they turned a corner, Wyatt suddenly backed up and pushed Angie back with him.
"Ow, you ran over my foot! What the hell," Angie asked.
"That's him," Wyatt whispered, peeking around the corner, Angie doing the same. Standing at the end of the aisle was, in fact, Ricky. Wyatt didn't know he was staying in town, much less shopping at his grocery store. Wyatt chewed his lip as he watched the airline investigator choose a brand of bread.
"Who's him?" Angie asked.
"That's the guy who came to my house," Wyatt said, "asking about the crash. He's...he's with the airlines, he's investigating the crash. Says he thinks someone planted an explosive device in someones luggage."
"And why's he talking to you?" Angie asked, furrowing her brow.
"Because the only person who survived is a friend of ours," Wyatt said, "I didn't expect him to be hanging out around town, but I guess he must be interviewing Rachel and Kelly at some point. Would only make sense."
"So why are we hiding from him?" Angie asked.
"Because he has the ability to make my life extremely difficult," Wyatt said under his breath, "and the last thing I need right now is more difficulty."
***
Rachel was folding her laundry and hanging other pieces up when Sun Rai came into the bedroom. As Rachel turned, she jumped a little at the sight, laughing. She finished hanging up a jacket and then turned all her attention to Sun Rai, who was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.
"What's up?" Rachel asked, "I've got to get to work soon, so I'm just putting this laundry away first and-"
"Were you in Stonyham the other week?" Sun Rai asked, catching Rachel off guard.
"Uh, ye-yeah. I went with my friend Calvin," Rachel said, "he was looking for some supplies for something he's making in his shed. He does a lot of metalwork and stuff. Builds a lot of shit. Why?"
"Because my mother said she saw you," Sun Rai said.
"Well, the hell is your mother doing there? That's no place for moms," Rachel asked, making Sun Rai chuckle.
"Valid question," she said, "but still. What were you even doing down there?"
"I was with Calvin, I told you," Rachel said, "he didn't want to go alone, ya know, cause the area is so...uncouth, so he asked me to come along with him. Don't know why he thought my presence would make a difference. Last thing a bunch of drug dealers and gang bangers are gonna be scared of is a hundred and twenty pound white girl, but hey, who am I to question."
Rachel tied her apron around her back and turned to Sun Rai, kissing her on the cheek and smiling.
"Now I do have to get to work, okay?" she said, and exited. She should've just told Sun Rai that she went and got medication off the street, but...but she was so scared that Sun Rai would judge her for it. So scared that she would see her flaws for what they really were, and, in turn, pull away. What Rachel didn't realize was that by not doing just that, she was in essence pulling away herself, inadvertantly. Sun Rai watched Rachel get her purse and leave the apartment, still just wondering about the whole mess. She knew Rachel had mental health issues, but she had no idea just how severe they were, and as Rachel had put it to Wyatt later that afternoon, "if my parents abandoned me because of it, people who, by all rights, should never abandon their child...what chance do I have of a romantic partner sticking around?"
Some people just don't understand love.
***
"What should we do about him?" Angie asked as she helped Wyatt pile his groceries into his car. Wyatt pulled the trunk down and stared at her.
"Nothing," he said, "we do absolutely nothing."
"Yeah, because that gets things accomplished," Angie remarked.
"Listen," Wyatt said, pulling his keys from his jacket pocket and opening the car for them both to climb inside; he continued, "as long as nobody says anything, he'll have nothing to work with and eventually leave. Kelly had nothing to do with the crash, she's innocent as rain and he knows it. It was an act of God, not my God but somebodies God, and that is what the airline is going to have to live with. Sometimes there's nobody at fault. Sometimes shit just happens."
But there was someone at fault, and Wyatt felt disgusted with himself for even trying to believe there wasn't. He climbed into the drivers seat, Angie in the passenger, and he pushed the key into the ignition, the both of them pulling on their seatbelts.
"If he's causing you trouble, though-" Angie started, but Wyatt immediately interrupted her.
"Right now he isn't causing anyone any trouble, he's just doing his job," Wyatt said, "and hopefully when he's done with that, because there's nothing to gain, he'll leave. Someone put a bomb in Kelly's bag. It's fucked up but it happens. Domestic terrorists are a dime a dozen, and they choose their victims at random."
"But why would someone want to blow up a plane filled primarily with members of the Evergreens?" Angie asked, and Wyatt looked at his steering wheel, his eyes watering, and Angie suddenly understood; her voice lowered, and she whispered, "...you know who did it, don't you?"
"I had no idea he'd do this," Wyatt said, "which is so stupid, considering what he'd done before. For some reason I...I just ignored the signs, the warnings. If he's capable of this, what else could he do? That's what everyone keeps asking me. I know something has to be done, but...but I don't know what. I can't just turn him into the investigator, that would destroy my life as well, and I can't kill him, cause, well, that's very obvious why. I'm stuck, Angie, I'm just...I'm fuckin' stuck."
Angie looked at Wyatt, her mind racing a mile a minute. The man she worshipped was in pain, seeking out answers. Maybe...maybe this was how she could prove her worth to him.
"Well," she said, "like you said, he's just looking for answers he won't find, right? So let that be the end of it. You're probably right. Nothing will probably come of it. So let's just hope that that's the case."
"It was about you, you know," Wyatt said.
"W...what?" Angie asked, half laughing, confused.
"The fight I had with my wife this morning, it was about you," Wyatt continued, "she didn't understand why some random woman was coming to see me late at night on my driveway, calling my cell phone. I tried to explain to her that you were just a friend, someone I'd helped, and she seemed to buy that cause it's not totally a lie, but it was weird, defending you to my wife. Defending a damn near total stranger to the woman I've built a life with."
Angie reached out and touched Wyatt's shoulder, patting it gently.
"Everyone needs support," she said softly, "even the strongest of us. I didn't mean for my support to be an issue."
"You're not the issue," Wyatt said, half choked up, "...I just need help"
He hated admitting that.
***
"They say a partner is someone who's supposed to be on your side, right along with you, ride or die, right?" Rachel asked, "but...but Hollywood lied to us, and glamorized love to an extent it can't be attained. Nobody is going to agree with you one hundred percent of the time and sometimes you're gonna lie to eachother, and sometimes you'll break up and lose the one you really thought was your true love. There is no true love, though, is there? There's just....different levels of love. Some people are more fit for you than others, and some aren't fit at all."
Wyatt picked up his cookie from the basket Rachel had taken from the back shelf and bit into it, shrugging.
"Why you asking me?" he asked, mouth full of cookie, "I mean, shit, you think I'm any more well versed than you are? So I got married, big whoop, not a huge accomplishment. Anyone can do it. Doesn't mean I'm more knowledgeable about these things. Just means I found someone with standards low enough to want to be with me."
Rachel smirked. She appreciated Wyatt's honesty. The cafe was basically closed out for the night, and they were the only two still sitting inside. Rachel had locked everything up and shut most of the lights off. Being here, just the two of them, it harkened back to the beginning of it all.
"I don't know when or how things got so off track," Rachel said, "one minute we were just...talking about about politics, and suddenly we're knee deep in elephant shit, having blown up a man, having caused an airliner to crash. What the hell happened? If I'd known at the start what Calvin would get me involved with, I wouldn't have gone along with it. I mean, the man was in tremendous pain, sure, but...but that was his fight, not mine. Now it's all of ours. His poor choices, his bad decisions, have eaten our lives."
"I know," Wyatt said, nodding, chewing, "I know."
"What do we do about that? Cause I want my life back, Wyatt," Rachel said, "I want things to go back to normal. Sure it might've been boring, but fuck, at least I wasn't terrified twenty four seven. I miss normality. A life of crime isn't as fun as television makes it look."
"Are you asking me the same thing everyone else has?" Wyatt asked, "the same thing you've asked before? What do we do about him? Because frankly I have no idea. We can't turn him in. We can't kill him. The only thing we can hope for is maybe, MAYBE, he comes to his senses and takes full blame for everything himself. Otherwise...I don't see any good outcome for any of us."
Rachel sighed and rested her head on the table. She thought about that night. The reunion.
"He tricked me," Rachel said, "the night of the reunion, I was so upset because Sun didn't show up that I spent most of the evening out on the back steps with Calvin, drinking and making fun of everyone. He used my disappointment to gain my friendship. I know it's genuine, on some level, like...he wanted to get me medication, I know he does care, but at the same time it feels so sleazy looking back on it."
"That's people for you," Wyatt said, checking his watch.
"People suck," Rachel said, making Wyatt laugh.
"Yeah," he said, "most do."
He reached across the table and held her hand, and for a brief moment, they both felt a little better. Even if Calvin's friendship was on shaky grounds, they knew they always had one another no matter what. This was one friendship that nothing could break.
***
Ricky was starting to get undressed.
He'd taken a shower when he'd got back to the hotel, and was now getting changed into his pajamas. The TV was on, but was on mute, and he was busy cleaning his fingernails with a small brush as he watched, reading the subtitles. Suddenly there was a gentle knock at the door, and he walked over. He didn't answer, he just stood there for a moment, and then finally pulled the door open only to be greeted by nothing at all. Nobody was there. Ricky was confused, and stepped out a bit further, where he heard a soft crunch under his foot. He glanced down and saw a piece of paper, folded neatly in front of his door. Ricky bent down and picked it up, then went back inside, shutting the door behind him. He unfolded the paper and his eyes scanned the words.
"Dear sir, you don't know me, but I know what you're looking for. Wyatt Bloom isn't as innocent as he lets on. He knows what caused the crash, he knows who caused the crash. Return to his house soon enough. You'll get the answers you're looking for. I promise."
Ricky smirked. Looks like someone else believed in justice. He folded the paper back up, set it gently on the table with his other files, climbed into bed, and shut off the light.