► 002
Wake up, run, work, eat, drink, sleep repeat. It was Ford’s routine for the past two years. It was like he had nothing else going for him. It wasn’t like he needed anything. His soul purpose in life was gone and she wasn’t coming back. The cancer made sure of that, the cancer destroyed everything Ford loved and he was sure he couldn’t love again. Not like what he felt for his lost beloved wife. Until he could join her again he just figured he would go with the motions. Everyone walked on eggshells around him so there went his social life – not that Ford wanted to hang out with people. He liked drinking alone; just him and his guitar and a bottle of something strong. It was easier that way, no one to try and give him pep talks to ‘put himself back out there’ or stuff of the like
It went as usual, he woke up at six, avoided people as he ran through town and got back to his place in time to eat another breakfast and shower and head to work. Ford wasn’t much of a handy man – despite the job he held. He knew the basics and such but other than that he wasn’t a hardware aficionado. He actually just sat around and read comic books if he remembered to bring them or the random catalogues they had lying around. It was a pity job, Ford only needed enough money to pay the bills and keep the food on the table, no chocolate, candies, flowers or fancy dinners were needed. The bare necessities so clearly he didn’t need a huge salary. In short – he got paid to grunt, point and ring up stuff while sitting on his ass.
Which was what he was doing when he heard the bell ring indicating that someone had came into the store, engrossed in the latest adventures of Iron Man, Ford didn’t bother to greet the customer. There are signs, if they can’t read they shouldn’t try to handle a hammer or anything of the sort.
When she was a girl she spent most of her time with her father. Her parents divorced when she was eight and it was something she was used to. Her father would take her to lunch and they would start their conversation with one question: what do you want to be when you grow up, Ave? He asked every time and every time he got a different answer. She wanted to be a veterinarian; a tour guide; a preacher. Every time she answered they would talk about how to make it possible.
Her father was a man of possibilities. That was what she liked the most about him. He never asked why he asked how. Avery knew she was a lot like her father. In more ways than just her childlike nature of hoping and believing but in the fact that she often drank too much alcohol and she was determined to do things on her own if she could. She remembered early arguments between her parents because her father had rigged the toilet with a Mountain Dew bottle and duct tape and called it fixed. Sure, he had a way of being pretentious at times and the only thing he could agree with her mother on was the fact that Avery was throwing her potential out the window by being a freelance artist, but Avery was definitely Daryl Conners daughter and she was reminded at least every other day. And that morning, right on schedule, her kitchen faucet broke.
Two days. She had moved in two days ago and she was already fuckin' shit up. She sighed and set the faucet handle on the counter, grabbing her purse and heading into town. It wasn't a big town--it was more like a everyone-here-has-known-each-other-for-eighteen-plus-years kinda thing. It made her feel slightly like an outsider but she almost liked it that way. She was the mysterious new stranger in town. She didn't have a hard time finding the store--it was what to do once she was inside.
She had never stepped into a hardware store a day in her life. Ask her to navigate around a Michael's Craft store or a Hobby Lobby and she'd be golden and efficient with her eyes closed. But a hardware store? She stepped through the door and listened to the silence that followed the ring of the door. Her eyes cast around and she noted the stained tile floor and the man behind the counter who paid absolutely no mind to her presence. She looked up, walking toward the aisles. She found the aisle for kitchens but she wasn't sure if she needed to buy a new sink completely or if she just needed to fix the water valve (what the hell was a water valve, anyway?) so she was standing in the aisle staring in confusion for about twenty minutes before she turned on her heel and walked to the front of the store.
Grabbing a water from the mini cooler the store had displayed, she opened it and took a sip. Opening things before she paid for them was a bad habit of her. She looked at the man behind the counter. He was reading. A comic book, it looked like. She watched with amused eyes before approaching the front counter. She cleared her throat slightly. "Uh, hi. I need some help." She started. "My kitchen sink broke and I'm not sure if I need to buy a new one or fix the old one--I tried to turn it on and the water wouldn't come out and then the handle broke of, which I think I can fix with a screwdriver, but--I am not sure where to start." She blinked, watching him, waiting for a response. She took an awkward sip of water, pressing her lips together as she swallowed.