fandomtownies | Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

Current Mood: optimistic

Entry tags:

Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

A banner, the letters wrapped with fresh spring flowers, hung from the trees, spelling out CONGRATULATIONS, CLASS OF 2009! No missing letters or anything.

Spread out across the park were plenty of tables and chairs, some under the shade of picnic shelters, some out on the grass in the sunshine. For those who felt like getting back to nature, there were even red and white checked blankets spread out in a few areas for old-fashioned picnic-y goodness. Lack of ants not guaranteed.

The long table that ran along next to the picnic shelters was laden with a vast ~~moddable~~ array of traditional brillig-y food, including fruit, veggie snacks, breakfast pastries, sandwiches for the especially hungry or those who arrived more toward the unch end of brunch, and a wide variety of J,GoB-catered desserts. Drinks included coffee, tea, juices and soft drinks, and while there were plates provided, there were also wee picnic-basket-shaped trays for carrying things back to your seat, wherever that might be.

A space had been cleared for dancing, if people cared to do more than just listen to the light music being played through the speakers, and there was also an area set aside for outdoor games of croquet, horseshoes, or frisbee.

Everybody's welcome. Come celebrate with the Class of '09!

[OOC: ~~Wait for the OCD. Don't make Eliza Doolittle have to cut a bitch.~~ OPEN! And no one had to get cut! It's a good day!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Right, great," he said and rubbed his eyes. "I'm not going back home, by the way."

Adama hated surprises. Really hated them and after that display, he hadn't expected one.

"That sounds like a poorly planned decision," he said coolly.

It was Adah's turn to stay quiet; she really had said what she'd wanted to and had more than met her quota of talking for today. She wanted to get up, leave them to it themselves, but the main problem with that was that she was so upset, she knew she actually couldn't.

She half wondered if the reason she didn't say anything was because even her jaw had tightened so much she didn't trust it to move, either.

"I'm going to college in Maine," he said, still keeping his eyes on the table. "It's what I want to do. I don't want to be in the military. I don't want to be at home. So, that's what I'm doing."

His father stared at him for several long moments before shaking his head.

"It's a mistake."

It was he that stood. "I have to get ready to leave." He stood for a moment longer, possibly hoping that Lee would change his mind, before he actually did walk away.

That pause was just enough for Adah to get enough synopsis straightened out that, when the Eel's father walked away, she could sit there and say, "When I found out your father was coming to this, I started an intensive, painful, thorough and potentially impossible physical therapy so that I could actually shake his hand. When he didn't even stand up, I thought it was going to all be a waste, but now I realize that it isn't, because I can still do this."

With a lot of concentration and even more pain, Adah unfolded her right hand, massaged her throbbing palm with the other, better hand, then lifted it enough to flip off Father Adama's retreating back.

Yeah, Adah was not impressed.

It was kind of impossible not to crack a small smile at that. Hell, he wanted to do the same thing. He was just too busy trying to keep himself together after all that.

"I-- sorry, I didn't know you'd done that," he said and rubbed his eyes again. "He's not...easy."

"I didn't exactly mention it," Adah said, dropping her right arm to her side; it fell heavily, that one small action entirely wasting it, and she gave a small sigh that she'd refuse to admit was a whimper. She rubbed her bicep with the good hand. "I guess it's kind of a trend."

"Yeah," he said and laughed ruefully. "I didn't keep it to myself to be a martyr. I kept it to myself because we didn't have a lot of time together the past year. I was trying--I wanted it to be happy."

Adah didn't say anything at first, dropping her eyes and sorting out thoughts, neurons, synopsis, and pain first.

She wanted to ask how it happened.

She wanted to ask if it was worth keeping it from her from so long.

She wanted to ask what the evidence that put the guilt of his father was, and if what he felt for how it happened could even begin to compare with what it felt like to actually be there and watch it happen.

But the only thing she managed was, "Was it?"

"Was our time together happy?" He nodded. "Yes. And I tried to tell you-- But, we'd just seen each other for the first time in months. I didn't want to wreck that. I just wanted to be with you."

"That's a stupid reason, Eel," Adah said, soundly ignoring the part of her that thought otherwise.

"Yeah, well, add it to the list," he said and shook his head. "I didn't tell anyone. No one knew. I just tried to move on."

"But you can't ever just move on, Eel. And you shouldn't."

"I did." He had not. "You know, I went through a lot of crap in that time span and moving on and trying to bury it just seemed like a smarter idea than letting it eat me alive."

"You didn't have to let it eat you alive, either, though. Lee, I've been through this. I know what it feels like."

"I didn't know how else to deal with it," he said and dropped his head into his hand. "I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. If I moved on, it wouldn't hurt. So, that's what I did."

"Are you honestly expecting me to believe that not telling anyone and 'moving on' makes it hurt any less?"

"I'm not telling you because I need acceptance," he said and shook his head. "I'm telling you what I did and why I did it. I tried to put it behind me."

"And I'm not looking to give you acceptance," Adah said. "I'm just trying to figure out if it actually did work."

"I'm fine." He shrugged before shaking his head. "Sometimes. Sometimes, I'm fine."

To Adah, that seemed to prove her point well enough, so she didn't say anything more, just gave a thoughtful little hum, hunching her shoulders and feeling the ache of the past hour creeping up on her, and trying to figure exactly why this bothered her so much.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he offered after a moment. "I thought. I just wanted the times we saw each other to be happy."

"...were they?"

"Of course they were," Lee said, glancing over at her. "You make me happy. So, yes, they were."

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets

Re: Tables, Chairs, and Blankets