As quickly as the commotion in the back had started, it’s over, and a hush falls back over the entirety of the restaurant. If Daphne had to venture a guess, she’d say Juan (the only other cook that bothered to show up today) has offered Red a cigarette to ease his nerves. He quit about twenty years ago at Josie’s insistence, but every one in a while, you could catch him out puffing on a cancer stick when he was feeling particularly punchy. Always behind Josie’s back of course; once, she’d heard Red say, in his own defense: secrets make good marriages. Daphne’s positive that was the only secret between the two of them.
No one here to scold him for smoking now. Daphne certainly hoped he wouldn’t make a habit out of it; at his age, though, it might not matter so much. But still, everyone wanted Red around for as long as they could have him, especially in the advent of Josie’s death.
Daphne’s heart sinks seeing the sullen look on the other’s features. While she doesn’t quite know Juniper, she’s sure she’s seen her around; though, it’s been a while. Knowing she was quite close to Josie, there’s a surge of empathy that bubbles up through her throat, and comes out as a simple, “I’m sorry.” It’s quiet. It’s not even remotely the correct response to the Juniper’s last sentiment. But at the same time, it is.
“He’s, um– …” She’s not quite sure how to explain it. He goes in, and out of different planes of emotion. Whoever came up with those “phases of grief” was defintely on to something. Right now Red’s in the “anger” stage, and no one’s sure how long it’s going to last. “He’s not doing well.” It’s the only way she can describe it.
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you’re back in town, though.” There’s a faint hint of a smile; she hopes at least that will give the other a bit of solace.
“You think so? If you can tell him that I visited when he is better, I’d appreciate that a lot.” It wasn’t only Juniper that adored the couple Josie and Red were, she knew how loved they were. To Juniper, Josie and Red were the kind of people she wanted to have as her parents. But now there is no ‘them’, it’s Red only, with his sorrow to process. She can only hope this won’t drive him to madness.
”I don’t know if he’ll ever be fine again.” Her honest thoughts revealed, sadness within her seeps through every word. “I think about him and Josie and... ” This is when she ends up shifting her gaze to somewhere else other than Daphne’s direction as if the words she needs are hidden in some corner and she can find them by searching. “They were such a ‘til death do us apart type of couple, weren’t they? They looked inseparable.”
Realizing her wanderings might be the last thing the other wants to hear that very moment, the songstress retracts. “Shit. Sorry, didn’t mean to bore you with what I have going on in my head. Other than all this -- ” She gestures her surroundings while saying the word this, but she means more than just what’s around her, she means everything that has changed after Josie. Before continuing her words, she doesn’t forget about forcing a smile to her face. “What else has changed in Wade? I’d like to know what I’ve missed.”
She doesn’t want to believe that Josie's death is the beginning of a change bigger than she can perceive, she stanches the thought even before it forms. For the first time ever, she just wants to hear every damn thing is still the same in Wade; just like how she left them, so that she can pick up from where she left and maybe start again.
