Gunner took a bite of spaghetti to stall his answer to Bree, even though his stomach really didn't want any more. Him not having an appetite was unheard of though, and he didn't want to worry anybody.
"Eh..." He chewed and swallowed his mouthful before he shrugged. "Typical day with Tyrant Reese. Nothing exciting enough to talk about though."
He took his fork and toyed with a meatball until looking up again at Bree's suggestion for a walk. Normally he'd jump on the chance. Normally he'd love to take advantage of the opportunity for a walk while holding her hand. Normally he'd have too much energy just to sit in the house all evening. Tonight though, it was a rather tired smile he offered. Being alone with Bree meant more opportunities for her to ask him if anything was wrong. "If we take off, your uncle might eat all the ice cream and rootbeer," he teased. "Not to mention, it's too cloudy to see the stars this evening."
JT scraped the last bit of sauce from his plate while still studying Gunner out of the corner of his eye. Was he really looking for a way out of going for a walk with Bree? Talk about unusual. He did look awfully tired though. More than tired. Worn out. Stressed out. What wasn't he telling them?
Opting to give Gunner a gracious way out, he interrupted the conversation. "Yeah, you two better not go anywhere," he agreed. "Never leave me alone in the house with ice cream." He tossed Bree a wink. "Besides, I thought we'd watch that action flick on tv tonight."
"Dibs on the couch." Gunner threw Bree a silly look. "As long as I get the warm pillow too."
JT rolled his eyes as he stood up to start clearing dishes. He wasn't going to make Gunner stay here and choke down any more food. It was quite obvious he wasn't hungry - famous spaghetti or not. "Alright, I'll take the chair, but no making out while I'm present."
...It was still a rather odd evening with a strange sort of tension in the air, but regardless of Gunner's mood, the three still enjoyed their floats and still settled down in the living room for the evening.
Hours later as the movie credits rolled, Gunner made no move to leave. On his side on the couch, Bree was tucked in front of him with his arm around her, and he was awfully comfortable. Normally he would have fallen asleep like this, but tonight, his mind was too full to relax to that point. Sleep wouldn't come easy, no matter where he was. At least the movie had provided a nice long time when talk wasn't needed.
Sighing, he gave Bree a squeeze. "I should get going."
JT stood to stretch and yawn before looking down at the couch. And something tugged on his heart...and his good sense. "You're welcome to occupy the couch for the night," he offered. "Up to you." He shrugged. "Me, I'm heading to bed, so goodnight, you two."
Left alone with Bree, Gunner nuzzled his face into her neck. "Are you staying?" he mumbled. He knew she still spent half her time here, but wasn't sure if she was taking advantage of her bedroom here tonight or not.
Rosalyn finally laughed as she slipped her arm around Chad's waist. "I like it the way you say it." Aiming for the door with him, she shook her head. "I've never been there, by the way. Heard it's good but...it's always been sort of out of my league I guess. I'm...kinda excited to go with you...Thank you."
It took a little doing, but Rosalyn did eventually let herself forget about the day and just enjoy her evening. It really felt more like a dream than anything. Being with Chad...being treated so well...going to a fancy restaurant with fine food and soft music to slow dance to. It was all so heavenly. Rosalyn hoped she would remember everything just like it was, so she would never forget her first real date.
It was now late, but it didn't seem to matter much. Walking hand-in-hand in the park seemed a perfect way to wind down the evening. It was a little chilly, now that it was dark, and Rosalyn felt a little funny wearing her denim jacket over such a nice dress, but she didn't care too much if Chad didn't. The only thing to make this more perfect would be a clearer view of the stars, but here in town, they were somewhat hidden. Soft lights made the path glow, and walking under the park trees felt enchanting rather than spooky.
Swinging Chad's hand a little, Rosalyn enjoyed the quiet. But she also knew she'd put off talking about the day long enough. She could tell Chad had been waiting to hear what had happened, though he had been a gentleman and not once had asked her about it. She owed him an explanation though, and she knew it...
"...and that's what happened." Rosalyn stopped under one of the lights to turn and look up at Chad. The tears were gone, though her eyes had returned to their dimness. It wasn't fun telling Chad about Mick and Jim's fight. About how it had, in essence, been about her. How she'd made Clint tell her about it. None of it felt good at all.
She swallowed hard and reached up to run a finger gently along Chad's jawline. "I don't know if I can keep doing this," she finished quietly. "You're amazing and you make me feel wonderful, but...I love my family and...my choice of having a relationship with you is tearing everybody apart."
Her eyes dropped to stare at the dark ground as she retracted her hand. "I can't remember ever having such a nice night, and I'll always be grateful. I'm just not sure where to go from here."
The sound of a clanging tool broke the silence,
followed by Clint's growl. Absolutely nothing had gone right today.
He'd hardly slept the night before, Chase had been a holy terror this
morning, he'd seen the fight between his dad and Mick
without being able to do anything about it, and nothing was going well
in the shop. It was getting late, almost everybody had started for their
homes or bunkhouses for the night, and Wendy was waiting for him at
home, but he wasn't ready for bed yet. This shop was his shelter. And
yet, tonight, it was just adding to his frustrations.
Picking up the wrench, Clint hurled it at
the far wall where it hit a shelf with a loud bang, before falling to
the floor, taking a few other tools with it. Setting his hands on his
hips, he sighed deeply before leaning back against the tool bench and
staring at the mess he'd made today. He was tired. He was frustrated.
And he felt like quitting.
