Leyla-tehrani - Almost Here.

"Ah, you're familiar," she joked, laughing as they both clearly gave away that they were not born there. She nodded, agreeing, "quite." Smiling, she was grateful for the experiences she had, even if not all were full of positive memories. "My parents are Iranian," she explained, "that trip was to see some relatives. I speak both fluent Farsi and French, so both places allowed me to exercise those languages more. But it is, I would go back to Paris if the opportunity arose." Leaning against the arm of her beach chair, she beamed at the compliment to her business idea. "Thank you for saying so," she said quietly, "it seems to fill a need. I was hoping it would, but the feedback has been really positive." It was one thing to know and to hear it from customers, and another to get the praise of someone who had long run his own business. "I've always wanted to go to Italy, but I never got that far. What brought you here?"

"Spoken like a true New Yorker," he replied, trying his best to imitate the accent, as well. Something that he should have had down pat, after spending a few years there, himself. But he had spent much more time in Maine, was almost disappointing to find the accent a reach to achieve. "I can imagine it's a little bit of culture shock, though. Iran and Paris -- and then here to Merrock, you've really seen a lot," he smiled at the thought. "Can't say I've visited Iran, but Paris is gorgeous. One of those cities worth seeing just to say that you did, right?" He leaned back on his arms where he had settled onto his towel and let out a low laugh, "oh yes, we have quite a few bars, but your business is truly unique. And truth be told, I think sometimes people go to bars just because they're traditional meeting, social areas. Offer them something else, and why not take it?" He knew that it would happily be a place for him to visit with clients. "I was born in Italy, actually. Moved to New York City for law school, practiced for a few years before I made the move here."

Well, if Instagram says so...who are we to argue? I don't keep up with trends, unfortunately, but I'm sure those ideas are going to be big. You can always go with someone from The Office, it's classic and pretty timeless. If you don't want to look like everyone else, you can go even more obscure...like a strawberry banana smoothie.

@merrock

Right, so, I'm taking recommendations for my Halloween costume. Before you say "Oh, Miles, it's too early-" blah, blah, blah. No, it isn't. Why not? Because the first Halloween edit came on my Instagram recommended page just now. Anyway, what's the trend this year? Barbie? Ken? Queen Charlotte and George? Farmer George? That's all the ideas I have. Any suggestions will do or I will have to result in dressing like a banana for the third year in a row. Costume is starting to wear down.

"Oh good because I do," Leyla admitted, not in a rude way--well, maybe sometimes in a rude way. Just not aloud. She also didn't have the most faith in people, so maybe that was part of it. "I feel oddly at peace with them, there is something about them, which is probably why equine therapy is a thing, I guess." Her interest piqued as the woman beside her brought up dressage. "I always thought that much be such fun. Nostalgic? So you don't compete anymore?"

"You can always judge for taste," Elise said, a bit cheeky. She had cultivated an image for herself that veered just an ounce into snobby territory, but never too far. "Yeah, it's an awesome place, and an awesome opportunity. They're the coolest animals out there, and Harmony Healers does such a good job." She patted the horse's neck. "We do, when we can. We both did dressage growing up, so it's kinda nostalgic."

She liked talking to customers, despite the wall she put up to keep people from getting too close, she liked feeling like she maybe made someone's day a bit brighter. There was something quaint about the idea of a candy shop in a small town, reminded her of old-timey movies. "I'll trust you completely then," she teased. "Oh, of course, they'll be so happy to hear someone's dared to take the job." Laughing a little, she said, "so you'll have your angel wings and then run to the other shoulder and throw your horns on?"

She had grown liking working at Cassidy’s. She had taken the job because it was available when she came back to Merrock, and also because she needed money after spending several weeks across South America. But truth be told, she didn’t expect to enjoy it. Now it was making her happy. Tasting candy before anyone else was fun, and as busy as the shop could be, serving kids and teenagers was refreshing – they always had a lot of stories to tell, most of the time without even realizing that it was embarrassing for the adults being with them. “I’ll be your best guide,” she promised. “I’m so happy the last one retired. Tell them I say hello, and that I promise to do a good job.” She chuckled. “I can be both, though.”

Leyla's smile brightened as the other woman confirmed with her hand what she had suspected. Though she wasn't so sure about having kids herself, she did love seeing the joy in others who did want it. "That would be great, I'm actually working on having some of the local musicians come play for a night of live music. I think that would make a great date night. Do you mind if I ask when you're due?"

Accepting her hand and shaking it, she said, "nice to meet you, Alice. I'm Leyla. I really do hope we get to know each other better." It still amazed her how kind everyone was here, she wasn't exactly familiar with the small town dynamics. "Will you really?" She asked, again surprised by the hospitality of this place. "That would be wonderful!" Finishing pouring the drink into a glass, she added the finishing touch of a sprig of fresh basil before placing it down in front of her newest regular.

Alice smiled and nodded. “Well, thank you,” she grinned. “I’ve gone to taking a liking to these mixed drinks without them being spiked,” she said, placing a hand on her bump with a small smile. “I’m excited to discover the menu! Maybe I’ll bring my boyfriend with me next time,” she grinned.

She nodded quickly. “I remember,” she chuckled, adjusting herself more comfortably in her seat. “Alice,” she introduced herself, with a warm smile, holding her hand out. “I write for the local paper. I will definitely spotlight Mawk Tales,”

I don't think I'm meant for this world It wants me straight, but I huddle up and curl But I don't want to give up the fight It's black or white, it's wrong or right, and I am just a girl

Is it too late? For me? How will I be remembered when I leave?

#sleeping beauty 

Leyla usually tried to keep her looking back to therapy sessions, especially to that time, this man. However, looking directly at him made that part hard to ignore. If she was supposed to feel any relief he was still alive, it was jumbled up in all the other emotions she was rapidly trying to process. Fury was winning out as she stared at her own personal nightmare.

She waited for an explanation, one she hoped would be just stumbling through, not here to hurt kind, trusting people. None was offered as he looked at her like he was just struck dumb. "Yes, I do," she snipped, "I finally started my own business. It's called Mawk Tales, it's here on the coast." Part of her still told him like she hoped he'd be proud, but if he actually said that, she might lose her shit in front of all of these people. "What are you doing here? These people still trust--at least most of them seem to, and you and I both know that you are not built to hold anyone's trust."

Vitus had lost the borders of his twenties to a head-fogged downward spiral, crafted by his parents and accelerated by his own hand. Without structure, his memories had buckled and bent inward toward each other. Some had collapsed entirely. He'd carried the pieces with him ever since. And now, up from the rubble of those years, Leyla rose like pinpoint-sharp debris, resurrected. She brought the same blaze with which she'd bitten him during those last few conversations they had. Her rage had followed him cross-country back then, bleeding across the width of the States. Before his eyes had even finished clearing, his skin began to itch. With flame, with scar tissue, with memory.

She looked the same. No, she looked better, healthier, than he recalled. Even as decade-old remorse slammed him sideways, squeezing all the breath from his lungs at once, he couldn't help but feel a touch of relief at that. Despite everything, she'd made it to her thirties. So many other loved ones from back then hadn't. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came right away, so he closed it again. Another few blinks, like he couldn't be sure she was real. And then, stupidly, quietly, "Leyla? What are you—What? You live here now?"

The world felt very small in that moment, almost comfortingly so for once. Leyla wasn't the best at letting people in, or letting them stay in. It didn't make her the best lover or friend, but Cemile was one of the few that got in and stayed. The busyness of the start up had meant she hadn't been able to keep in touch as much as she would have liked, and this was exactly what she needed. Having a friend sent waves of relief through her. "I finally did it, started my own business. I couldn't do it in the city, too much noise, too many memories, so I did some research and found this place. Put a non-alcoholic bar right on the coast, and it's doing really well. I feel a bit like I'm in my Hallmark era...I mean, without the shirtless lumberjack rebuilding an old inn." Scrunching up her nose at the idea of romance in her movie, she was not looking for that right now. "Okay now your turn."

Cemile turned slightly at the sound of her name being called, giving a rare smile once she saw who it was. The paint was no longer her priority, her friend now being the center of her attention. "Leyla?" she asked, mostly out of disbelief than anything. She hadn't seen her in a while, but still tried her best to keep in touch. She probably missed a conversation or two since her big move, but was delighted to get the chance to catch up with her. She tried her best to fit in the small town, but it still was a bit daunting. So the familiar face was a welcome surprise. "What are you doing in Merrock?"