Shop Til Someone Drops [For Cait]

[sandandwater]

Saturday. A shopping date with Rory's sister. Pippa sighed as she poured herself yet another cup of coffee. If it weren't Caitlin MacEibhir she would have canceled. The morning hadn't been kind to her and the afternoon wasn't looking much better. Then there was the fact that it was Saturday and Rory (and Breaker Street) had a gig at Last Call and she wouldn't (couldn't) be there.

Her mood swings had been so drastic lately, Pippa was beginning to get on her own nerves. She wanted to be alone, she wanted Rory with her, she didn't want him there at all. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She needed to laugh. Dear God, she needed something.

She needed to answer the door.

Bringing the mug of coffee with her, Pippa went to the door, stepped over the dog and checked the peep hole before undoing the series of deadbolts and the slide chain keeping the door locked. This wasn't leftover paranoia, it was just a fact of life on Staten Island. You locked your door even when home.

"Cait, hello. Come in, please. Don't mind Mr. Beaker, for whatever reason he's taken to lying in front of the door when Ro's not here." She stepped back to let the other woman into the apartment. "I'm sorry I'm not quite ready to go, do you want some coffee? I won't be long, I just need to find my shoes."

Comments

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

"I'm sure he's doubted my sanity more than once." She agrees quietly as they're seated, nodding at Cait's question. "I can order."

Pippa looks up at the server only to find the person looking at her hand resting at the edge of the table out of pure habit. It doesn't take Pippa long to connect the morbid curiosity with her missing finger and the redhead drops her hand to her lap. She hates this, the wondering and the silent inquiries. Ignoring it, she smiles. "I'll have the poached eggs and salmon please. And may I have a glass of ice water along with the coffee?"

[a-chaitlin.livejournal.com]

Oh, Pippa. The server looks embarrassed at being caught staring, completing the awkwardness all around. Industriously she notes down Pippa's order before turning to Cait.

"The Curious French Toast for me, with a side of potato-chicken hash," she says, smiling pleasantly as she looks over the tea selection. "And a pot of Monk's Blend with that, thank you."

As the waitress bustles off to get their order in and bring their beverages, Cait decides to risk what may or may not be a loaded question. "How are things, m'dear?" She keeps her voice relaxed, indication that Pippa may interpret "things" however she wishes.

[sand-andwater.livejournal.com]

Pippa makes a big show of putting her napkin in her lap and rearranging her flatware before answering. So many different ways she can approach that one and it all boils down to just how honest she wants to be with her friend. "That depends on what you want to know, I suppose. Ro's wonderful. I don't know how he puts up with me sometimes."

She stops fiddling with the things in front of her and lifts her gaze to Cait's, blue eyes full of frank honesty and perhaps a touch of fear. "I don't know if I can do this." It comes out in a rush of hushed words and she looks away again before continuing in a more normal tone, "I wake up screaming from nightmares that won't go away. I guess that's normal. I don't know. And I feel like everything's just..." Her hands flutter in rapid circular motions, "And I can't make it stop. I yell at him, I push him away...the last time he tried to make love to me I--"

Pippa shakes her head and stops herself there, changes tracks slightly, "And then there's everything with the band. I feel like the world's worst girlfriend. I know they're all so happy and I want to be happy for them, I want to celebrate with them and I just...I can't make myself do it. Ro says he understands, but does he really? And work, how much longer is Mike going to hang on to my position without finding someone else? I can't tell you the last time I fired up the furnaces in my studio."

She gives Cait a smile she doesn't feel. "That's how things are. I feel like I'm walking on a balance beam made of rotted wood and it's going to give way at any moment."