Bartholomew Reynolds

[bartholomew-reynolds]

LOCATION: The Ranch WHO: @thexcarrollxtimes Bartholomew stood on the porch staring out over the ranch like he was trying to memorize the place again before he left. Florida was waiting on him, warm and easy and far too quiet, but he hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that he was leaving things unsettled behind. Dominic, Holden, and Gus. The three men that were supposed to be taking care of this place, his legacy.

When Holden arrived, Bart didn’t waste time with pleasantries. He gestured toward the chairs out on the porch, already sitting down before his grandson had fully crossed the yard. “Sit,” he said gruffly, though not unkind. His gaze stayed on Holden a moment longer than usual, reading him the way he always did. “I’m headin’ back to Florida soon, and I’m not leavin’ without sayin’ what needs sayin’.” A pause, the wind shifting through the yard as he leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “We’re gonna talk about the ranch. About you. And about whether you’re actually steady enough to be standin’ where you are right now.”

[thexcarrollxtimes]

@bartholomew-reynolds

He wasn't sure exactly why he was following through with this. For as long as Dominic had hoped, prayed, snd wished his father would love him as much as did his brother, Gus, he had almost as long ago given up the possibility of it ever becoming a reality, hurtful as it may have been to let go. But here he was, sitting at a table at The Bait Shop, waiting for his father to reignite the dream of having a loving father who cared, all thanks to Gus - Big Bad Bart's favorite.

Fuck his life.

He ordered a coffee and slipped in a shot of whiskey from his flask before Bart showed up, the smidge of liquid courage needed - his anxiety worse then ever as he sat waiting patiently. The sound of his father's voice speaking to the hostess sent a spike through his veins and he suddenly felt smaller than ever, as if he was a teenager again and awaiting the inevitable lecture deeming him unfit to even bear the name Reynolds.

"Hope ya don' mind I went ahead n'got us a table. Figured ya wouldn' wanna wait too long," he said as Bart was brought over, unable to bring himself to look at him just yet.

[bartholomew-reynolds]

Bart stood there for a moment after Dominic spoke, the hostess stepping away after guiding him to the table and leaving them in the uneasy quiet of the table. He didn’t sit right away. Just looked at son, really looked at him the way only a father who’s spent too long being disappointed knows how to do, even when disappointment is tangled up with something softer he refuses to name.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose and slid into the chair across from him. “Yeah,” Bart said simply, voice gruff as he reached for the menu without really looking at it. “I see you got us a table. Real generous.” The edge in his tone wasn’t sharp, but it wasn’t warm either, somewhere in that familiar middle ground they always seemed to meet in. He set the menu down and folded his hands on the table, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied Dominic over the rim of the moment. “You been drinkin’ already, or are we just startin’ the day, honest?”

[estereynolds]

"hey pa." the invitation to dinner had been more than welcome. she didn't know what was going on with her uncles, but it all felt a little too big to leave town just yet. they didn't ask much of her, she just cleaned up around the ranch, doing the odd chore it looked like someone had missed. something was wrong in carroll, and she wanted to figure it out before leaving. send back a gold star report to her mom, sleep easier.

she pressed a kiss to his cheek before she sat down. the pizza and the pepsi made her feel decades younger, sitting across the table with braids in her hair as they discussed her grades. now, though, she seemed to be just fine when compared to her cousins. "too bad they didn't send out invites. could have been a real reunion." might even include the new niece— add that to the topic list. "how ya been?"

[bartholomew-reynolds]

Bart let out a soft chuckle as she settled in, shaking his head a little at her comment while sliding the pizza box closer between them. “A reunion, huh?” he repeated, amusement flickering in his eyes as he leaned back into the booth. “Now that sounds dangerous. Put this family in one room long enough and somebody’s bound to start yellin’ about somethin’.” Although the older man did find it odd that he, his youngest son and granddaughter all ended up in Carroll around the same time.

At her question, his expression shifted slightly, settling into something quieter. He took a sip of his iced tea before answering, eyes briefly studying her over the rim of the glass. “I’ve been alright,” he said at last, a little slower than before. “Thinkin’ about headin’ back to Florida soon, maybe stoppin’ in Oklahoma to visit your mom before I make my way back to the East Coast.” He responded. “But I am more interestin’ in how you’re doin’. What brought you to Carroll?”

[bartholomew-reynolds]

Bartholomew stood just outside the school, mid-conversation with the brunette he had met at the pie tasting the day before, when Dominic’s voice cut in. He paused, lifting a brow as he looked his son over, then turned back to the woman with an easy, practiced charm.

“My apologies, ma’am. Raised him better than that, he just don’t always show it,” he said smoothly. “If you’ll excuse me, seems I’ve got family business callin’. I would surely like to continue this another time.”

Only once he’d stepped a fair distance away from the small crowd did his expression harden. He pulled his phone from his pocket, squinting at the screen as he tapped it awake.

“What the hell you goin’ on about?  I ain’t got nothin’ from y’all.” he muttered. “Ain’t a damn thing here.”  He responded by showing the screen, although there were notifications at the top.

He lowered the phone, eyes settling back on Dominic, lingering a moment as if taking stock.

“You look like shit,” he said bluntly. “What dragged you back into town? Did they run out of booze in North Dakota?” He questioned, with a knowing expression that he knew where his son been this whole time.

[thexcarrollxtimes]

Dominic gave a respectful tip of his hat (had he been wearing one) the woman's way in apology and greeting as his father said his farewells. He swallowed thickly as soon as he saw Bartholomew's smile fall flat. It had been one thing to go looking for the man, but now he had to be alone while they made their way back to the rest of the family - a realization that hadn't hit him until now. Fuck his life double.

"Look at tha top dad," he said pointing at the line of notifications. "F'yer gonna have one'a those things, maybe ya should learn how ta use it. Bet you could get yer new eye candy ta teach ya. She's young 'nough ta get it," he poked at his father's conversational companion and their obvious age gap.

A chill ran through him, and the familiar heat started swelling in the pit of his stomach once Bart gave him his full attention. Over a decade away and almost forty, and he still triggered his anxiety like he was a kid getting lectured for the millionth time about how lost his life was, the panic having merely settled into hibernation. A beer was definitely first on the agenda after this visit.

"Yea, well, I didn' have tha luxury of holin' up with pretty ladies durin' tha storm. I was busy wranglin' tha horses n'livestock with your precious Gus," he pointed out, swallowing down the bile rising to the back of his throat. He scoffed, and an angry smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Of course, he'd known where he was and hadn't bothered to reach out. "Work," he only partially lied, unwilling to feed into his bait. "But f'I'd known you were in town, I'd'a stayed back home," he added pointedly. "Come on. Let's get ya back to tha ones ya give a shit 'bout," he went on, heading back to his truck without bothering to wait and see if his father followed, rubbing the back of his neck to stave off the rising hurt of being face-to-face again.

[bartholomew-reynolds]

END

[bartholomew-reynolds]

“Your own restaurant?  Now that is somethin’.  Whatcha ya goin’ call it?  Might hafta swing by one of these days.  Especially if all your cookin’ is as mighty tastin’ as this here pie.”

The blush did not go unnoticed and it added a little more confidence towards the old man.  Bartholomew reached out his hand to shake hands with her.

“Bartholomew Reynolds, although everyone in these parts just calls me Bart.  The pleasure is all mine.”

Once he was finished shaking her hand, he tipped his hat her way. 

“Well darlin’, I actually am lookin’ for my family.  I certainly hope I’ll see you around.”

[birchrcse]

"Well, I was ponderin' over 'Birch's Barbecue Kitchen'. But... I keep flip floppin' y'now? I think namin' might actually be the hardest part'a the whole thing." She'd thought up a million names, but Joel's voice saying 'Birch's Kitchen' echoed so thoroughly in her ears that she couldn't let it go.

"Oh! You're a Reynold's." And most definitely he patriarch, he had that air about him of importance.

"I think I saw me Mr. Gus handin' out flyers for his wife's run for Mayor. I think he's over where the games meet the food area. Got him self set up in a mighty fine location for campaignin' I must say. Good luck in findin' the rest. Miss Aspen seem's 'ta be bouncin' all over this place."

[bartholomew-reynolds]

END

[bartholomew-reynolds]

“The fella’s from ‘round here too, is he?” he asked, his tone easy but probing. “That so…you two sweet on each other, or just keepin’ friendly company?”  Bartholomew questioned, curious about his granddaughter.  “Of course sweetie, I would love t’ watch em with ya.”  The man nodded with a pleasant smile, just happy the youngest in the family still wanted to spend time with him.

He shifted a bit, eyes glinting with a hint of that familiar knowing look, like he already had the answer but wanted to hear it told anyway.  “Reckon the twins might join us too” he added, voice thoughtful but light. “And that brother of yours.  Where is he by the way, haven’t seen him yet.”

[aspenreynolds]

"Yeah he moved here like at Christmas I think?" His question made her blush, a hand lifting to brush the question out of the air. "Pop pop! He's taken! Dating Autumn Manchester, if you can believe it or not. He's an okay enough guy, kinda boring. Definitely handsome, though." Grinning, she gave a little whoop of happiness at his agreement to binge some movies with her. "Saffron might but she'll just critique everything the whole time. Holden's at Auntie Lori's."

[bartholomew-reynolds]

END

[bartholomew-reynolds]

LOCATION: Pizza Place WHO: @estereynolds

Bartholomew sat in the corner booth of the little pizza place, the warm smell of garlic and baked dough filling the air while an old Sinatra song hummed faintly through the speakers overhead. He had already ordered them a large pizza to share.  The man looked up from his glass of iced tea the moment she walked through the door. “There’s my girl,” he greeted warmly, his weathered face softening into an immediate smile as he waved her over. “Come sit before I eat this whole thing myself.” The joke came easily, followed by a quieter, more genuine look once she slid into the booth across from him. “I’m glad you came, sweetheart. Feels like we haven’t had much of a chance to catch up.”

[bartholomew-reynolds]

LOCATION: Ice Cream Shop WHO: @softlysaffron

Bartholomew Reynolds had arrived nearly fifteen minutes early, seated at one of the little wrought iron tables outside the ice cream shop with his reading glasses perched low on his nose staring down at the newspaper. The older man looked every bit as composed and dignified as always, though the second he spotted Saffron approaching down the sidewalk, his entire expression softened in a way reserved only for family. “There’s my girl,” he greeted warmly as he pushed himself to stand, opening his arms without hesitation for a hug. “I was beginning to think I’d have to eat ice cream all by myself, which at my age is a dangerous game.” The tease came with a quiet chuckle before he motioned toward the counter inside. “C’mon then, sweetheart. You can help an old man decide between pistachio and butter pecan.”

[acecroft]

The Color of Money (1986) dir. Martin Scorsese

[thexcarrollxtimes]

@bartholomew-reynolds

[thexcarrollxtimes]

@bartholomew-reynolds

He couldn't believe he was fucking doing this. That Gus had somehow convinced him that it was his duty to go and find their father. And his brother had the gall to use his niece's worry against him, claiming he needed to stay back with his family as an added excuse not to tag along. He couldn't even be bothered to round up his m.i.a. nephew to help herd gramps back.

Fuck his curse and wretched life.

Luckily there weren't too many spots that hadn't been touched by the hurricane, so he hadn't needed to look far to find the familiar mop of dark hair and the towering figure. Even after all this time, his heart still stalled, and his stomach dropped at the sight, fear gripping his chest as the inevitable disappointment he knew was coming his way set in. A grown fucking man, and he was still terrified of his father.

"Figured I'd find you chattin' up some poor, unsuspectin' lady," he said as he came up to the small group outside of the school. "Aspen's worried 'bout'cha. Best come on back n'let her know yer alrigh' since ya don' wanna answer our texts," he both instructed and scolded - the sooner he got this over with, the better.

[bartholomew-reynolds]

Bartholomew stood just outside the school, mid-conversation with the brunette he had met at the pie tasting the day before, when Dominic’s voice cut in. He paused, lifting a brow as he looked his son over, then turned back to the woman with an easy, practiced charm.

“My apologies, ma’am. Raised him better than that, he just don’t always show it,” he said smoothly. “If you’ll excuse me, seems I’ve got family business callin’. I would surely like to continue this another time.”

Only once he’d stepped a fair distance away from the small crowd did his expression harden. He pulled his phone from his pocket, squinting at the screen as he tapped it awake.

“What the hell you goin’ on about?  I ain’t got nothin’ from y’all.” he muttered. “Ain’t a damn thing here.”  He responded by showing the screen, although there were notifications at the top.

He lowered the phone, eyes settling back on Dominic, lingering a moment as if taking stock.

“You look like shit,” he said bluntly. “What dragged you back into town? Did they run out of booze in North Dakota?” He questioned, with a knowing expression that he knew where his son been this whole time.

[birchrcse]

"Well that there ain't no every day mixer." Her smile was warm, and a touch playful.

"Y'see that there mixer is worth a right shiny nickle and I happen'ta be on the cusp'a openin' m own restaurant. And that little fiend there... it can mix up dough 'til the cows come home, and a whole lot'a it." chuckling, she reached down for one of the cups and held it up to offer it to him.

Blinking a little at the flirtatious compliment, her face filled with colour deep enough to blot out the faded dusting of freckles that had darkened in the near constant sunshine of Carroll. "Well that's mighty sweet'a ya."

Holding out one of the aforementioned hands, she offered him an introduction in return.

"Birch Rose. Mighty fine ta make your acquaintance."

[bartholomew-reynolds]

“Your own restaurant?  Now that is somethin’.  Whatcha ya goin’ call it?  Might hafta swing by one of these days.  Especially if all your cookin’ is as mighty tastin’ as this here pie.”

The blush did not go unnoticed and it added a little more confidence towards the old man.  Bartholomew reached out his hand to shake hands with her.

“Bartholomew Reynolds, although everyone in these parts just calls me Bart.  The pleasure is all mine.”

Once he was finished shaking her hand, he tipped his hat her way. 

“Well darlin’, I actually am lookin’ for my family.  I certainly hope I’ll see you around.”

[aspenreynolds]

Giving an excited squeal much like when she'd found out herself, Aspen couldn't help that it was all renewed knowing her Pop pop knew about it, too. It was always so special to make him proud, and Aspen flourished under the pride in his look.

"Yes! And the man who plays Bond is actually from town, too!" Even if he'd only lived there for the last several months. "I'm so excited! Do you wanna watch some of them with me, PopPop? Maybe Tuesday after the carnival is all over, we can have like a marathon with Dad."

[bartholomew-reynolds]

“The fella’s from ‘round here too, is he?” he asked, his tone easy but probing. “That so…you two sweet on each other, or just keepin’ friendly company?”  Bartholomew questioned, curious about his granddaughter.  “Of course sweetie, I would love t’ watch em with ya.”  The man nodded with a pleasant smile, just happy the youngest in the family still wanted to spend time with him.

He shifted a bit, eyes glinting with a hint of that familiar knowing look, like he already had the answer but wanted to hear it told anyway.  “Reckon the twins might join us too” he added, voice thoughtful but light. “And that brother of yours.  Where is he by the way, haven’t seen him yet.”

[birchrcse]

There was something dashing about this mean that Birch couldn't quite put her finger on, but also appreciated nonetheless. He was handsome in that way rugged older men got when they aged impeccably. He somehow even managed to pull a slight flush to her cheeks with the compliments he paid her with his words... And his gaze. He may be old enough to be her own father, if not older, but he held a swagger that reminded her of the men back home.

"Well thank you kindly, Sir." His question caught her a little by surprise as she'd noticed the appreciation in his eye as it lingered on her. "Well I get me a fancy engraved plaque and some mighty braggin' rights. Not ta mention that right fancy mixer they got in display over there. Never been able ta afford me one a them professional ones, and I think that's really what I'm wantin' most." Information spoken like it was done great secret.

[bartholomew-reynolds]

The Southern accent brought a pleasant smile upon his lips.  By the way she held herself and the way she spoke, he could tell that she came from a good family.  

“Now ain’t that somethin’,” he said with a playful smirk.  “All that talent, and what you’re after is a mixer.”

He tipped his head toward the direction she’d mentioned, then back to her, a faint smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Seems to me that machine be the lucky one, gettin’ put to work by the beautiful hands that made this.”

Bart gestured lightly toward the pie, though his eyes didn’t quite follow because they were still settled on her instead completely in awe with her beauty and the fact she was given the old man the time and day.

[aspenreynolds]

"Pop pop!" Aspen have an excited squeal at the familiar and always welcome voice of her grandfather, turning to look at him with a face splitting smile and a throwing of her arms around him in the tightest hug she could manage. A tradition of her 'squeezing his ribs shut' as long as she could remember. "Ooooooh, I missed you! I have so much to tell you, oh my goodness! Did Dad tell you about my big role, you're gunna be so floored, I just know it!"

[bartholomew-reynolds]

The old rancher let out a soft chuckle, his weathered face easing into a smile as he wrapped his arms around her, returning the tight squeeze. The warmth of her excitement settled right into his chest.  “Missed you too, sugarplum,” he said fondly.

“Heard a little somethin’ about that role of yours.  A Bond Girl, huh?” he smiled.  “You ever sat down and watched any of those Bond films? Might be worth a look, might pick up on somethin’.”  He raised a brow.  “You excited though?”

[birchrcse]

Where: Pie Contest Booths Who: Open

"Well this here is my famous raspberry Rhubarb pie. It's sweet n' tart and like a touch'a spring you can put in your mouth." Never much of a sales woman, Birch was doing her best to win the contest, having put her heart and soul into the pies that had been cut into bite sized pieces and were handed out in little cups with wooden spoons to those who were testing the pies at the booths before placing their votes.

"The rhubarb came right out'a my own garden, though unfortunately my raspberry bushes ain't in season yet, I promise these are as fresh as a spring mornin'."

[bartholomew-reynolds]

Bartholomew took the little cup in his weather hands while he listened to her speak.  The beauty of the young woman was the first thing he noticed, followed by her southern drawl.

With a smile, he dipped the wooden spoon in taking the first bite.  The man went slow wanting to savor the taste and nodded, before his eyes lifted up towards her.  “A balanced combination.”  He complimented.

His gaze lingered along her figure longer than it should have, but he was an old man and when you reach a certain age one stops caring about such things and does whatever they want.

“You certainly have my vote, not that you need it.  I reckon the contest is already decided and you are the favored contestant.  What will you receive if you win? My apologies, I mean when you do win.”

[aspenreynolds]

Where: Game booths Who: Open

"Oh yeah! That's right! No way I'm not getting that giant unicorn stuffy! Did you see that ring go right over the bottle?! I've been practicing for this my whole life! Oh, oops, sorry!" And this was sure to be the year she'd actually get her hands on that stuffed animal, pretty sure the one hanging there was the very same one she'd been trying to win since she was a kid. "I'm so glad we got this weekend off filming for the holiday! I mean, I think I might have cried if I hadn't been able to be here!"

[bartholomew-reynolds]

Bartholomew remained back, arms loosely folded, watching his granddaughter talking some poor person’s ear off. The corners of his mouth tugged upward, just a little. She had a way of filling any silence, that one.  He took his time stepping forward, boots steady, presence quiet but firm. “Reckon I might’ve shed a tear myself,” he commented, voice low but loving, “if you hadn’t made it out here.”  Bart waited for her to register who it was right beside her.

[yotsaba]