"They Are," Leyla Assured, "I've Sampled Them All Myself Before Putting Them On The Menu, So You Can't

"I hope not," Leyla said with a slight laugh, "everyone has seemed to like them so far." She wasn't really afraid of that, not in a town like this, but still, she hoped for good feedback. "I'll take hopeless addiction, at least it's mostly healthy ingredients so you can feel relatively guilt-free about it." That was one thing she was really loving about Merrock, everyone was genuinely so kind and supportive of one another. "Apple Cider Mule," She listed off, starting with the one he'd just picked up, "then Autumn Spice, Pumpkin Pie Martini, and Ginger Pear." That way he'd know which one he liked best. "That's the idea, yeah!" She nodded as he asked about her experience, "a little bit. I'm trying to make some time for it because I really do want to see what everyone else has put together. I got some blueberry jam from the Newman Family Farm and this really cute crochet pumpkin." She pulled it out from her bag under the table to show him. "And I plan to catch one of the horseback rides if I can and maybe the Morris Winery. I don't think I'd try it, but I think it might be fun to watch some people grape stomping like that I Love Lucy episode. Where are you headed next?"

"Something tells me that you won't have anyone spitting drinks back out," Josh laughed, shaking his head. Sure, people could have discerning tastes, be picky about the things that they chose to eat and drink, but something told him that no one in this town was going to have a problem with a delicious, fall-themed beverage. "Alright, good deal, that way I know where to go to get my fix once I ended up hopelessly addicted," and then have to find another one that he liked once the Christmas and winter seasons rolled around, that was how this cycle inevitably went, every single time. "Ah, perfect, thank you so much!" He reached for the first drink, admiring the color, and broke into a smile. "I'll definitely end up taking one with me. Feels best to explore a place like this with a drink and snack in hand, doesn't it? Have you gotten the chance to wander around yet?"

"Caught him myself, but cameras aren't a bad idea," Leyla joked. Her qualifications for what a snacker was was admittedly rather low, since she had never been much of one. "Ah, you're a smart man, sounds like you've had some experience hiding some tasty things," she replied with a small laugh. It did sound nice, like this whole week was turning out to be. It was strange how comforting the small town had become, how well it seemed to suit her. If she'd grown up in a place like this, she had to wonder what else could have been different. "I'll have to do that then," she wittled down her thoughts to one non-committal phrase. Her smile brightened as he mentioned his dog. "Oh, are those people annoying? I've always dreamed of being one. What's your dog's name? I've sort of adopted my roommate's dogs for the moment, he's just not fully aware of it yet. But if one of us moves out, I might need a lawyer." She was joking...mostly. Nodding as he mentioned his girlfriend's children, she asked, "how many does she have?"

Josh found himself laughing as she outed one of her roommates as a snacker. "Do you set up cameras to catch them rooting through the fridge, or are they more obvious about the things that they're sneaking out of cupboards or cabinets?" Josh liked to snack, maybe not so much to a level where someone would label him as a snacker… but he liked to have a good treat here and there, enjoy something tasty. "Just find a box of some food that you know no one else in the house likes, and tuck it into that in the fridge. No one will touch it," surefire way to turn them away from a food was to disguise it as a food they didn't like, after all. "I think so," he nodded his head eagerly, "the wagon ride out there alone is nice, get to see some pretty sights, and then the actual pumpkin patch is really well done, too. If you don't get there during Creek Fest, I recommend coming out after," gathering up all of the pumpkins she might need in time for Halloween. Smiling, he shook his head, reaching for the next drink sample and downing it, "I don't. I'm one of those annoying, 'my dog is my child,' types. My girlfriend has children, though."

She meant it when she said she wanted Mawk Tales to be for everyone. It was safe. "Good, I'm going to be putting on some events, trivia, live music, things like that, over time." She wanted to have more reasons to bring people in to have fun and enjoy some non-alcoholic drinks. She smiled in understanding as he said it depended on the day. "Yeah, I can see that. It's the kind of day for friends not dads," she remarked with a small laugh.

He nodded in understanding as Leyla encouraged stopping by Mawk Tales with Ary. "I'll have to make sure I stop by and check it out," he agreed. It was always nice checking out new spots around town anyway. Wes couldn't help but chuckle at the question of whether his daughter was outright ignoring him or if she still thought he was cool. "Depends on the day," he shook his head. Pre-teens were interesting to navigate parenthood with. "Right now, she'd rather be out with her friends," he added as he looked back out at his daughter, then back at Leyla. At least that was the case in that present moment.

WHO: Leyla & @chvndlr WHERE: Pause for Paws WHEN: September 29, at some point in the day

Leyla was starting to wonder if the guy who worked here was going to think she was aiming for his job for the amount of time she spent in here. She had seen him in her shop with his blonde friend, so they were sort of even. In a not at all way. He had a few more visits needed to catch up on work place visits. Her laptop bag slung over her shoulder, she gave him a little smile as she approached, offering a "me again." She also wondered if she said the usual if he'd even remember what that was or if he didn't pay that much attention to what guests ordered. He didn't exactly scream 'customer service is what I live for'. "Cinnamon latte," she said, looking around before asking, "hey, this is probably a stupid question, but are the cats here adoptable?"

She knew he never meant to, and that just made it worse. He loved love, which had once been something she herself had loved about him. When you were his moment, it was the most intoxicating thing in the world because you were everything. But that's the thing about moments, there's always another right after it. They're fleeting. She'd never been more loved than that time Vitus had loved her, but she had also never had the kind of pain the end brought. She had tried to hurt him back, make him feel what she was feeling, but by the look on his face, he was still the same. It hadn't deterred him from doing it again and again, still chasing love like another high. In actuality, that's all it was by Leyla's estimation.

"Don't." She replied, a mix of malice and flicker of that old brokenness, "you don't get to talk about what I deserve." Because no matter how much she had wanted him to know that she made it, she didn't want to need anything from him. Not now. Everyone in town saw the end result, the polished version she spent decades perfecting. He knew, though, knew what she didn't want anyone to know: it had been a messy, twisted journey, and there had almost been no Leyla Tehrani left to open Mawk Tales at all.

They were both really fucked up, back then and probably still now. She still said mean things like she knew how to hurt him, as if his life had been happy and hers alone had not, but they both knew that wasn't true. He'd had plenty ripped away from him in the blink of an eye. It just still didn't give him the right to be reckless with others. His silence said he knew that.

"I know I am," she replied, once again wishing he wasn't being kind about it. "Then what would it have taken? I spent so much time playing it all back in my head, and--I know I wasn't perfect. I was a lot of work, but I loved you as best I knew how--I couldn't love myself, but you--you were easy to love. If love is really some beautiful and powerful thing, why wasn't that enough to stop you? Did you just want more?" For all the therapy she'd received, this is the one wound she wouldn't let anyone in to see, so it was the one that could re-open so easily. She wanted to pull him close and drown him in the nearby ocean all at the same time, with the same fire. He didn't have any right to ask, and after what he'd done, part of her still wanted the same punishment for him: to never know the answer to those questions. "--Eating? Yes," she relented, "okay might be a totally different question altogether. It doesn't go away, but I've been seeing Dr. Lane at the community center. Keeps me on top of things. But what's still broken in me, Vitus, you cannot fix." She took a breath, lip wobbling in a way that made her curse herself. He could still get right through, and it just made her want to push harder to close right back up. No one was allowed this close, not anymore. He looked better, still sad behind the eyes, but physically, he seemed okay. She wasn't ready to ask yet about him. "I know I said I wanted you to always be miserable, but it doesn't actually make me feel better to see you like this. Love's not real, stop chasing it."

Another agonized wince, as Leyla sliced deeper. But she said it without anger this time. Just laid the truth at his feet, left it there for him to take back, because it wasn't hers anymore and never would be again. And she was right; he'd done his damage. He'd done it over and over, winding lovers and friends around his hands and then spinning them loose repeatedly. Never with the intent to harm, but what difference did it make when harm was all he seemed to be capable of sometimes? Too choked to answer her question directly, Vitus let the remorse in his expression be his response.

And as she spoke of her business, the quaint atmosphere she'd cultivated for herself, Vitus's empathy leaked into his eyes. He tried to rein it in without much success. "That's fantastic, Leyla. Nobody deserves it more than you," he said, and he meant it. Because he remembered how hard she worked for it. How her constant battle for control had left her bone-brittle and frail, on the brink of fracture between his arms.

He did know what it was like, to go to bed happy and have his life turned upside down in the matter of a single day. He'd fallen asleep that fateful November in 2005 as a son, a love-drunk kid, a boyfriend. By the end of the next night, he'd been reduced to a barren street corner and a duffle bag that smelled like a home he no longer had. But he'd never told her that. Vitus had told her about his parents and his homelessness, of course; hers had been the arms he'd retreated to when he finally got that phone call from his mother, saying she wanted to reconnect. But Leyla had only poked around the edges of his wounds, never seen what they looked like when they were bloody and raw. He almost never shared his hurt with anyone back then. And he wouldn't share it with her now. Couldn't, not when he'd already forced her to hold far too much of it when he abruptly exited her life.

"I know. And you're right to. Hate me, I mean." It stung to admit that, especially as he continued picking through the rubble of their short-lived time together. "But it wasn't... Leyla," he sighed, as if exhaling her name could help alleviate some of the weight that had settled over his torso, threatening to cave his ribs in. "It wasn't because you weren't enough. It was never that. It was about me. It's always me." She hadn't believed him back then, and he had no idea if she would believe him now. The animal caged in his chest howled, screamed, wailed for something just out of reach. Vitus wanted to let it out, wanted to show it to her. As it was, he just sighed again and raked his hands through his hair. The ocean breeze almost swallowed his voice as he added, "I know I don't have any right to ask, but are you okay? I mean, have you been... how are you doing, these days?"

Leyla knew she wasn't the only one who ever had bad life circumstances or a far from dream relationship with parents or family, so it was sort of an innate learning one had to do: find the good. It just wasn't always so innate. "Exactly, like riding a bike, I guess," she mused. As she suspected, he could go when he wanted. "Do you think you'd ever go back and live there or are you here to stay?" It was a question she asked herself a lot, especially with the idea of being known in such a small town. It made her want to run. "That's the dream, though, to have something that large that you can call your own. I used to watch Shark Tank all the time when I was younger, just wishing I could be in one of those seats someday."

Rafael's smile was lopsided, but sincere. He knew what she was talking about; if you could take one good thing out of a bad situation, it hadn't been for nothing. And sometimes even those bad situations had their reasoning for happening, whether or not you realized it at the time. But that was neither here nor there, and his thoughts shifted seamlessly to the idea of languages, nodding his head, "I can understand that, sort of all comes back to you." Listening to his mother talk to herself in Italian, or his father speaking Spanish on the phone, sometimes shifted things in his brain, as well. "Sometimes," he nodded. "But I'm lucky enough that I can take the trip when I like to, and there is the beach here, even if it's not quite the same," he grinned, at that thought. Different worlds, really. "By now, I'm used to it. But about the time that I got into real estate and realized that I had really, actually created something quite… large, it absolutely felt surreal."

"You're welcome," she said softly, "I actually picked this up at What's The Tea recently. Their tea is really fantastic." Watching as he grabbed a fork for his fruit, she then placed the teapot on the stove to heat the water. "I'm the employee I have to tell to go home," she offered with a bit of a laugh, "and still keep working." She had always been bad about giving up control, still trying to do absolutely everything herself. "I always liked school--well, the work part anyway." She was about to ask about the fun of lesson planning when he answered that himself. "Words easily blend together after a while, right?" She perked up at the mention of the dogs, her favorite roommates in all honesty. "If you ever need help with them, someone to check on them while you're in class or something, I love dogs."

"Thanks," he offered her a bright smile in return, before locating a fork, deciding not to be a total barbarian that afternoon and picking at the fruit in the bowl, chewing through a piece of pineapple thoughtfully. "Makes sense. You're your own boss, and you best employee, right?" Unless she had someone else who did the dirty work! And even then, she probably still deserved a raise. "I do, at the community college," he nodded. "This is the time of year where I start gearing up to teach again, hence the snack break. Lesson plans are only fun for so long," which could be sad about any type of work, he was sure. "That, and I gotta take the dogs out in a few."

"It's one of my mocktails," Leyla explained giddily. Talking about her business and the drinks she made always brightened her day, "it's sort of space-themed. I call it our Galaxy Mocktail. It's got a blue curaçao syrup, grenadine, lemonade, and an orange & sweet lime simple syrup. You make it in two layers, so the purple and blue can sort of swirl together like a galaxy, hence the name. We serve it at Mawk Tales if you ever want to stop by and enjoy one while you read a book or something. What did you bring to read?"

"I'm not sure what you're drinking but it looks absolutely delicious!" She'd been eyeballing the drink in the other person's hand for the majority of the time they'd been sitting next to each other. "Did you make it? And if you didn't do you know what's in it because I wouldn't mind remaking a batch of that. It's almost too pretty to drink." @leyla-tehrani