callmeemily | Just call me Encyclopedia Brown (for Spencer)

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Just call me Encyclopedia Brown (for Spencer)

Usually, even on her day off, Raleigh tended to be a loner. It's not because she doesn't like people - she does, although she's usually awkward enough that her actual level of 'Hey! I like this interaction' falls like a rock off a cliff the moment she opens her mouth for more than four words.

Today, though - today, it's her day off and she's not spending it in her own company even though the guy who dropped her here told her explicitly to keep her head down, as well as changing her name as much as changing her name was a thing that needed to happen. She'd gotten off a Wait, what?! with no answer, and when she'd found a room she used the name Emily Watkins - from her mom and her eighth grade science teacher.

But Emily or not, and order to keep her head down or not, she'd ended up with mail that wasn't hers and it was the neighborly thing for her to actually drop it off, right? That's why she walked up onto the porch, and nervously rang the bell. The address on the envelope looked like it'd gotten caught in the rain, but she figured that Spencer Waters was probably the closest that she could get to what little she could put together on the envelope - Vera Waters.

The fact that they'd never actually formally met was besides the point - she at least had to try, and that's why she stood awkwardly on the porch, rocking from her heels to her toes as she waited.

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"Call me Emily." She forces a smile - trying to be nice, but not too nice, not creepy, but not standoffish - the mere fact that she was thinking about it probably meant that she wasn't doing the best job on the planet.

She shook her head when he asked if it was out of her way. "I mean, honestly, the town's so small, there's not much that's out of the way, you know? Like... walking is good for me, so..." She passes him the letter. "Do you know someone named Vera? Or Vena - the only thing that's really clear is your last name, but I thought - I mean, it's like at home, I know everybody who's got my last name. Right?"

He nearly drops the letter when Emily says the name. "Ve--" He turns the envelope over in his hand and sure enough, his mother's name is printed there. It's just an offer to renew a magazine subscription--LAST CHANCE!--but it seems so wrong to be holding this, to be reminded that there really do exist people out in the world who have no idea his mother's gone when he thinks about it every day.

"Vera," he says after clearing his throat, and he doesn't know why he feels the need to confirm it but there it is. He doesn't take his eyes off the small print of the name, knowing that this probably shouldn't affect him as much as it is because it's just a mailer, it's not a big deal, he'd gotten mail for both his mother and Dane for months after they'd died; but he hasn't seen something come in for ages. He just hadn't been expecting it.

"I'm sorry, I don't-- She doesn't-- Thank you for bringing it by."

She can tell that he knows her, and her eyes widen a little bit because his reaction? Not a good one. So not a good one. "You okay?" She sinks her teeth into her lower lip as she hesitates. "I mean- I... Sorry."

Raleigh doesn't know why she's apologizing - all she's doing is delivering mail that should be delivered anyway, but it doesn't stop her from saying sorry, all awkward and uncomfortable, and she huffs out a breath. "If I get more mail for her, should I... still bring it?" She's still hesitating, still trying to be a little careful and somehow not make him more upset. Or whatever. Concerned.

He needs to pull himself together. There's no sense in getting this visibly upset over a solicitation letter, a minor blip in the grand scheme of things that have been going on in Siren Cove lately; but even though he thinks of his mother, of Dane, every single day, this extra reminder feels almost like a setback. He can't let it be one, of course, but at this particular moment, it's harder than usual to move past the memory of finding hiw own mother's lifeless body in the backyard.

Emily's waiting for an answer, though, and it's not as if it's her fault that the letter had come to her so Spencer doesn't know why she's apologizing. Perhaps because he's acting like she's just overturned his world, he thinks, and he tries to downplay it by offering a weak smile.

"I'd say it'd be safe just to throw away if you get more like this in particular," he tells her, pausing as he looks back down at the envelope for a moment and then ripping it in half. "She passed on a couple years ago, I suspect she won't be needing these subscriptions renewed."

She's apologizing because he looks upset. There's no way around that, and her brows furrow in sympathy, nodding when he says she can throw them out. "Okay. If it's... a real letter, then I'll bring it over," she says before he lets the other shoe drop.

Oh, god. "Oh! Oh. God, I didn't know, I'm sorry. Yeah, I'll- Okay." She's nodded enthusiastically, and she's wishing she could make it better, but-

"Sorry. Again." She actually takes a step back, and looks over her shoulder. "I an just- I mean. I can go? And- Yeah. It was nice to meet you, I didn't mean to... you know." Dredge up bad things, mostly.

It's easier to swallow an innocent apology than it is the accusations; at least Emily doesn't know about those. Aside from the few people who'd kept close to him when everything had been happening, Spencer sometimes finds himself what the people he talks to really think of him, whether they think there's even a smidgen of possible truth behind the gossip. Other times, people make it perfectly clear that yes, they do.

"It's really fine, you couldn't have known." He hesistates, glancing over his shoulder at the sandwich waiting for him on the dining room table before turning back to her. "I was about to sit down for lunch. Do-- You could join? If you'd like? For the trouble." Branching out is never as easy as his friends try to make it sound.

Raleigh, in general, doesn't have a habit of accusing people of anything. If they did wrong and they know it, then they should change it; if they did and don't know it, it's not her job to help them figure it out, and if they didn't....

Then it's none of her fucking business. "Yeah, but it brought up... stuff. So I'm sorry for that, is all." She bites her lip, and then her brows shoot up, and as if on cue, her stomach rumbles.

It's her day off so the perks of working at the bakery (free breakfast and lunch) haven't materialized, and her stomach seems to want to remind her of that fact. "Really? I mean, it wasn't a trouble, but... Are you sure?" Random woman at your doorstep? Invite her to lunch! She's not about to look a gift horse (or sandwich) in the mouth.

It's admittedly not the best invitation he's ever extended to someone but then again, he hasn't invited many people over in the first place. He's actually rethinking the whole thing now but he's already gone and done it so it hardly seems appropriate to tell her he's changed his mind.

"Well, thank you for the apology all the same," he says. She isn't the first to have a hand in bringing up stuff and she won't be the last; in fact, Spencer does it enough all on his own, considering the scene of the crime is directly on the other side of the house. Still, he can appreciate that she's trying to be sensitive about it.

He steps aside, holding the door open wider for her. "Call it a welcome to the neighborhood."

She still feels bad - nobody likes to be reminded of dead relatives, no matter who you are, and if she's family then she's a mother or a sister or an aunt - the way he's hit by it, Raleigh doesn't think it would be a distant cousin he barely knows.

But he offers lunch, and he's being nice, and she's hungry so she tentatively nods. She doesn't realise she's almost got that look, the look that separates the college students happy for free pizza and the college students who need free pizza. "Thank you," she says sincerely, and it's only when he moves that she actually moves into the house. The awkwardness of her gait is mollified by how slow she moves, looking around the unfamiliar place.

"I'm not actually new," she says as she turns to look at him. "I've been in town for five months, I just work weird hours. Baker," she says like that's explanation enough even though she doesn't realise that sometimes? It's actually not - unless you know that most people in bakeries get up far before dawn, that kind of means nothing.

He notices that she seems to walk with a bit of a limp and raises an eyebrow as she passes but doesn't saying anything because it hardly seems polite. It's not his place to poke around in other people's business, particularly not when he's so often adamant about others staying out of his own. He does feel a twinge of guilt, though, when she tells him long she's been in Siren Cove.

"I'm usually good with faces," he tells her sheepishly, tapping at his temple. "Eidetic memory. If I've seen you before it must have only been in quick passing, unless you frequent the library often in which case I have no excuse and should probably apologize." He can't imagine that's the case, though, not when she's mentioned strange hours due to working at a bakery. He relies on his usual free cut of banana bread from Amber at Cove Cafe and can't even remember the last time he'd visited the bakery.

He leads Emily to the dining room, gesturing for her to sit as he continues on to the kitchen. "Please, take the sandwich that's already out," he tells her, pulling the refrigerator open. "It'll only take me a moment to fix up a second one. Would you care for a drink? Water, milk... er, beer?" He also has an extensive liquor collection in the cabinet she's surely noticed by now but he doesn't know how appropriate it is to offer someone he's just met a glass of hard liquor this early in the day.

She doesn't notice the eyebrow because she'd been seeing that sort of thing for upwards now of eight years; it'd been much worse, although lately she was overdoing it on a regular basis even thought she knew she had to stop doing that, or really..... really, she should see a doctor.

Raleigh shrugs with a smile when he says he's good with faces, but the smile turns into genuine surprise when he says that he's got an eidetic memory. "I thought eidetic memories were a myth," she said with a frown. "And no, I... I'm pretty busy with my job, so I haven't really gotten to the library much. Don't apologize." She smiled again, and she sits because really she needs to.

".... Are you sure?" She looks over at him as he moves into the kitchen. "I mean, it's your sandwich." It's weird, that he offered, and now she's suddenly wondering why she thought it was a good idea to accept his offer, but when she glances back at the sandwich, her stomach rumbles.

Right. That was why.

"Uh..." Raleigh hesitated, her brows furrowing. "Just water would be awesome - can I come get it? Or help?" It felt weird not to be the one who was shoving food into people's hands, and she looked around the dining room with wide eyes.

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Just call me Encyclopedia Brown (for Spencer)

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