ph_logs | [Open] All the Leaves are Brown

Who: Sally Boyle and you!
What: Arrival, opening up shop, a few odds and ends.
When: From now until it is no longer useful!
Where: Jack's Marina and around town.
Warning(s): Illicit substances, references to the death of a child, possibly more. Will update as needed!

-I've Been for a Walk-

To Yorick's credit, he did his best to lead Sally through the motions of getting settled in Pumpkin Hollow. He was kind and patient and a silly old thing. And yes, the town is cursed, room at the inn, work options, food vouchers, blah blah, that's all well and good but the whole time Sally had only one thing on her mind.

Where is Gwen?

The very minute that Yorick and Mayor Poe turn her loose again, she forgoes the tavern entirely and makes a beeline straight for the beach. Huddled in the sand, she sits and watches the docks with her rail-thin legs hugged tightly to her chest, hoping to see the ferryman return with her infant daughter.

Part of her hopes he doesn't. Because that would mean...

But if she isn't here, then what happened to her? If Sally didn't survive the crash, where does that leave Gwen? At least if she was here, they wouldn't have to be apart. Sally could find a way back... for both of them. Or maybe make a new life for the pair of them here. But what if little Gwen didn't get that chance?

It will be a while before the ferryman returns, but he will bring Guinevere Boyle with him. However, Sally doesn't know that. So she will wait here on the beach even as night falls.

-He Knows I'm Gonna Stay-

It takes a few days, but once Gwen arrives and Sally signs up for work as a physician, the pair are finally settled in. (Sally makes it clear to Mayor Poe that her expertise is in pharmaceuticals and she is, first and foremost, a chemist, but that she's got a lot of experience with first aid as well.) It's a small place, but it's theirs. A small drugstore and simple clinic with a small apartment on the upper floor. It has a study, but Sally converts it to a nursery.

Thus, the Blackberry Apothecary is born.

Basic clinic services and injury treatment is available here, along with all manner of helpful medicines made from local herbs.

And maybe some more interesting things if you ask the right questions. She does, after all, remember the recipe for Joy.

-California Dreamin'-

With Gwen strapped to her chest and a bag slung over her back, Sally ventures out into the woodlands to collect necessary herbs and flowers for her apothecary before the chill kills them off. Sage and rosemary, ginseng and yarrow, foxglove and poppy. If anyone approaches her while she's out foraging, she'll spit out a customary Wellington Wells greeting like a reflex.

"Lovely day for it!"

-Wildcard-
Always open to ideas!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, chicory root always works in a pinch for coffee. I just came from an isolated archipelago, similar situation, and that's what we did. But tea's better." Putting the sugar in, she gives the flask a swirl and takes another sip. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Kaspbrack. Sally Boyle."

"Chicory for the taste, but not the caffeine. And we've got a few caffeine addicts around here," Eddie says, with a shrug. He nods in acknowledgement when she introduces herself. "It's nice to meet you, Sally Boyle. You can just call me Eddie. Most people do."

Eddie sits quietly for a while, letting her just sip at the tea.

"I don't mean to pry. And you can tell me it's none of my business. But... you seem to be waiting for... someone. Someone you left behind?"

"...Someone who died with me," Sally confesses softly. "She didn't come with me. I'm worried she won't--- that she's not--- We died together, but she isn't here, and I don't even know if she can come because---"

Sally stops herself, takes a deep breath, and calms her fried nerves as best as she can. She speaks slowly. "The engine on our little boat was acting up and--- a big--- stupid boat driven by some idiot who wasn't looking ran right into us and sank us. We were so close to escaping hell. Going somewhere safe. And I don't know if she can be here because she-- because she's a baby. Not even a year old."

When Sally stops and takes that breath, Eddie puts a supportive hand on her nearest shoulder. What she says next breaks his heart.

(Not to make it about himself, but part of him wanted -- maybe still wants -- a child of his own. Someone to care for, to love and cherish. And he can't imagine loving one's baby and then having that child torn away from one's grasp. Poor Sally.)

"I'm so sorry. That's... that's an awful thing to go through."

Sally sniffles, offering a faux smile through her tears as she wipes her face. "I'm such a terrible mum. I tried--- everything. But I still couldn't get her out of that place without getting her killed. Goddammit."

"Doing your best in a horrible situation and having it go wrong because of the horrible situation doesn't make you a terrible mother." He moves his hand just a little, to the spot between her shoulder blades, and rubs in soothing little circles there. "And I consider myself something of an authority on terrible mothers."

Eddie feels a little stupid offering up this thought, but he does it anyway: "Maybe... it takes the lady longer to figure out what a baby wants?"

"That's true, but--- this was different. I lived in a place where, um. Something bad happened. A lot of bad things happened, but the first was that soldiers took all the children away during a war. No one knows why, really, or what happened to them. Just that they were taken. And then everyone went on a ton of drugs to forget that it happened because we all felt so terrible about it. As if that helps anything. But the drugs made everyone sterile. I wasn't taking them." She pauses. "God, it's so much, but--- suffice it to say if the people there found out I had a baby, they would have hurt her. And me. So we needed to get out. But I failed."

"Sounds to me like the deck was very much stacked against you." It's all Eddie can think to say, because that is a lot of awful, and a lot of pain, to process.

They sit in silence for a moment.

He takes a breath, and offers up. "But you tried, and you tried because you loved her and wanted to keep her safe. That has to count for something."

"...Thank you," she murmurs. She's not sure she agrees, but there's no use arguing with him when he's only trying to be kind.

Sally doesn't trust men easily. It's not their fault--- it's the fault of a few very specific men who hurt her, and the men and women alike who treated her like it was her fault. Like she was asking for it. But Eddie, for some reason, has a quality to him that makes it hard to doubt his sincerity. He means well.

"Maybe you'll, um. Maybe you'll get to meet her. Do you like kids...?"

Eddie is sincere, and he doesn't want anything from her. For the most part, for good or ill, Eddie is used to being self-contained -- both in the sense of keeping his emotions under control, and in the sense of depending on himself for what he needs.

(Part of it may be an American thing, since the culture values individualism and self-sufficiency so highly. Eddie might not analyze it so much himself -- does a fish know he swims in water?)

"I would like to meet her," Eddie says. "When I was married, we tried for children in the beginning, but... it turns out that wasn't in the cards for us. And we eventually got divorced. But... I would have liked to be a parent."

"Gwen's dad didn't even have the decency to marry me, but that made the breakup cheaper," she jokes dryly. "God, he was such a piece of shit. Bloody capitalist drug lord cheapskate."

But she musters a smile. "I'm sure Gwen will love having an uncle, though."

"Oh, yeah, you don't want to keep a baby around a drug lord, that's just danger--" Eddie cuts himself off, and his eyes go a little wider when Sally mentions 'having an uncle'. It's not too hard to put the pieces together, and Eddie blushes a little once he does.

"If you mean me," Eddie says, because rejection is a hell of a thing, "then I would be honored."

"Well good." Her smile brightens just a bit. "It takes a village, after all. She'll need other people to play with besides just me, or we'll both turn into shut-ins."

"What do you get up to around here, by the way?"

"She can hang out with me and Angel, and meet a bunch of animals." Eddie smiles. "I volunteered to be a farmer, so tending to crops and caring for the chickens and my horse take up a lot of my time. But I'd still be up for babysitting!"

"That would be a massive relief. I'll give you a shout for sure," Sally says with a sigh of relief. "Gwen's not a difficult baby, she really is an angel, but sometimes Mum needs time to do grown-up things!"

It helps, to talk about Gwen as if she's definitely coming. Sally can at least pretend things aren't so uncertain.

"I understand. My mother made her whole life about me, especially when I was younger, and it wasn't healthy for either of us. I'm sure Gwen will have fun at the farm."

Eddie will follow Sally's lead. And he does hope that Gwen really is going to show up soon.

[Open] All the Leaves are Brown

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cw: mentions of child death

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