Participants:
| Scene Title | For the Love Of… Family |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Jaiden meets Delia's new brother, things don't go exactly as planned from the moment he answers the door. |
| Date | November 4, 2010 |
Dorchester Towers — Russo's Apartment
Ichihara Bookstore on Roosevelt island is one, now Russo's apartment at the Dorchester is another. Having packed up the little bits of valued possessions that she had in her own apartment, she and Jaiden finally trek through the doors of the posh apartment building.
"It's not that I don't like your plan about the storage unit, it's just that time is running out." She's explaining again, needlessly. The jovial expression on Jaiden's face is telltale enough that he didn't need her to reassure him, but she's also been under too much stress and possibly needs someone just to listen. "And you know I'd keep them all at your place first, right? But I want to stay with you… so it's not a good idea either."
Her voice carries in a muffled bunch of sounds up to Bradley Russo's front door, where she knocks. Another fabulous reason for Jaiden to be here? He'll get to meet her older brother. "It's so neat having a teevee star as a brother…" Delia gushes with a bit of a blush on her face as they wait.
Jaiden bounces on the balls of his feet, dressed in a jacket and long pants to keep the cool of the morning away, glancing down to Delia with his hands tucked in his pockets. "Yeah, time is running out, but still…is this place okay? I just hope no-one comes looking."
Several moments pass after the know, begging the question: is anybody home? But then… AH HA! Randomly shuffling inside and a croaky voice calling back. "Just a minute." The man who opens the door doesn't look like a television star, or a star of any kind. In fact, Delia and Jaiden are greeted by a man in a grey t-shirt and black sweat bottoms with several days stubble growing along his face. Brad's hair is in disarray, his eyes a little bloodshot, and he's still nursing the hangover he'd developed from drowning his troubles the night before. Alcoholism is just one of his secrets, and one of his worse vices.
The redhead, however, earns a smile despite Russo's rather unkempt appearance. "Sorry," he shrugs a little, "just woke up." It's not wholly untrue, but not entirely truthful either. He opens the door a little further and wrinkles his eyebrows at Jaiden before stepping back, "Come on in." His head nods towards the inside of the apartment.
Inside, the room is large, but beyond that incredibly empty. There's nothing on the walls and only a small kitchen table, couch, and tiny television set to furnish the room; almost like Brad just moved here, or he never planned on staying. "I hope you're doing good?" He presses two fingers to his carotid, "Still breathing? Haven't been swapped by a vampire yet… or worse, a zombie. I'd always thought getting killed by vampires would be better than becoming a zombie… something about eating other people's brains that just…" he cringes.
It's at that point that Delia casts Jaiden a worried and quite dubious look. The sight of her half brother doesn't exactly inspire confidence in the clean living young woman. "I — We can come back?" The meek offer to allow the host further solitude is accompanied by the redhead nudging her boyfriend with the cardboard box she's carrying, back toward the elevator. "You don't — uhm… You don't look so good."
With a tentative grin that borders on a grimace, she takes a few steps down the hallway and calls back over her shoulder, "We'll come back… call uhm… Call when you feel better!" Maybe a drive to a storage unit upstate isn't such a bad idea after all. It'd give the two of them a chance to talk, they haven't been doing much of that lately… being busy and all.
The box in Jaiden's hands isn't too heavy, but it's bulky, so he swivels and gives the retreating half-brother a small smile, a partial wave with a box propped on one knee, and then a quick hop-step to catch the box before it falls and to catch up with Delia.
"Your brother doesn't look so good…a few sheets to the wind, rode hard put up wet…you know, the usual platitudes about someone looking tired after a long day of…." He glances back to the door. "What did you say he did?"
"He's like the main guy on a television show, The Advocate… He's sort of like Bill Maher or John Stewart or something… His show is all about politics… sort of." Except entertaining sometimes, the sort that are supposed to be informative and thought provoking. Giving Jaiden a rather sheepish look, she licks her lips and presses the button to the elevator and wait there for a while. "I guess I should have like… Well I called, I just figured he was busy or something…"
She's old enough to know a hangover when she sees one and the redhead is more dismayed than anything about the second meeting. "I guess it's sort of par for the course, I mean, my dad was pretty much the same after my mom died. He just sort of stopped."
"Looking for peace in the bottom of a bottle, huh?" Jaiden leans against the wall, watching the light above the elevator doors for the tell-tale *click* and whoosh when the elevator starts it's journey higher in the building. "I admit, a couple of times I went through that m'self - life being so dark you really couldn't see anything beyond your nose - but I got out of it with a little effort."
She did call, and Jaiden didn't say a word. He just hopes that her brother gets better and perhaps remembers to say hello the next time they run into each other. If that happens again. "He won't find peace, you know….just because hiding from your sorrows doesn't make them go away."
"Yeah…" Delia's voice is a little weak with confusion and perhaps a bit of sorrow. She didn't expect to gain another family member with baggage but in today's world, it should be expected. Especially given their supposed genetic tendency toward vices.
"Hiding from everything didn't work for me," the redhead smiles up at the Australian. Balancing her box in one hand, she reaches out with the other to touch him on the arm. "I have you to thank for a lot of that, you know. Helping me out of my shell and stuff."
"Let's deal with our more pressing problems…namely whatever happens in four days….and then once we've survived that, we go grab him, take him to a center or something where he can get a little help with dealing with his bottle." The elevator 'dings' softly and the door opens with a little help from a kick from Jaiden's boot, Jaiden stepping in after Delia, being the chivalrous sort.
"You're welcome. It's not many people who see me in that cell in Korea, and it's not something I go bragging about or remembering." The door closes with a soft squeak, no buttons pressed to tell them where to go, the man leaning against Delia's touch, giving her a small smile over the edge of the box. "Glad to see you spreading your wings and flying."
"I wasn't just talking about the dream," Delia murmurs with a sort of grin. Looking up at him, her entire disposition brightens and that smile widens to the crooked one before she averts her eyes again. "It was everything before and after… Just how you've always been there, how I hope you always will be." Survival past the 8th isn't an issue, it's something that needs to happen. At least for her.
"Speaking of surviving next week, I have something to ask you…" Her voice fades a little at the end, as though silently asking permission to go on. Her blue eyes dart toward him, touched with mirth and almost too much affection.
There's a soft chuckle from Jaiden. Yes, in the few months that they've been together, Delia has certainly gotten more familiar with the more passionate part of her psyche. Using the rail of the elevator to prop the box he is carrying up, Jaiden leans against the side of the car to face Delia, crossing his ankles, looking all the world like someone who's content with his lot in life.
"What's that, Delia?" Jaiden still hasn't hit the button on the elevator, the fans quiet in the little car.
"What do you want for Christmas?" It's a question that gives hope and possibly furthers her belief that the two of them will survive everything that comes along in the next few days. "I can't afford a car or a computer or anything… But… " What do you get for a person you think has it all? Delia's not sure. "I was thinking about a lens for your camera, but I'm not exactly sure what kind…"
Sliding her back on the wall, she nestles against Jaiden's side and leans her head on his shoulder. With one foot, she stretches across the small box and pushes the button for the lobby. It's practice from carrying lots of boxes and making deliveries that gives her the talent to push an elevator button with any part of her body.
What does he want for Christmas? The question does seem to take Jaiden aback, the man blinking, looking down slightly at the corner of the elevator where the carpet's coming up just a bit as he thinks. "….Christmas? Just having you with me is enough, but if you really want to get me something other than you wrapped in a bow…"
Dirty, Dirty Jaiden…
"Something you make with your hands is plenty. You don't need to buy anything. A picture, a sweater, a pie. Something that you've thought about and put work into…for me…is all I need."
Her cheeks flush a little and she nods once. "Well, you're a photographer, so a picture is definitely out of the question. I think you could probably take a better one than I could ever come up with." Though it does give her a few ideas.
When the elevator comes to a stop, Delia reluctantly pushes off the wall and with a sigh steps to the door to block it from closing before Jaiden has a chance to step out. This time she waits for him to get off first, urging him through with a jerk of her head and a wide smile. "I know what I want for Christmas~" she sing songs, her voice just as out of tune as ever but endearingly so instead of eardrum breaking.
He meant paint or draw, but sure a photo'll work too. he's also avoiding the whole 'get technology' loophole, and god help him if she gets a gift certificate for Sears or something. Yes, Gift Certificates, for those who don't think before they shop, and for Delia, there's going to be a lot of thought put into her gift.
"Oh, and what's that? Your two front teeth? To kiss Santy Claus?"
His answer gives her pause for consideration before she purses her lips to keep the grimace off her face. "Two front teeth will be a yes if they get knocked out on Monday… though a pack of Chiclets will do nicely for a little while if that happens."
Catching up to walk beside him, she gives a smile to the doorman on the way out of the building. Where she would normally wave, she instead gives a polite 'thank you and bye'. She's somewhat familiar with the man, though he's probably seen a thousand couriers in his career there. "Do you think I should try to do something for your parents? I mean… I know I've never met them… but it'll be a first Christmas. A card at the very least?"
"I'll love you just as much if you've got a gap you can drive a road train through in your smile." Jaiden, balancing the box, leans down to kiss her playfully on the cheek, giving the doorman a smile and a nod before positioning his hat properly to keep the hair out of his face.
His parents…..
Jaiden lets out a soft snort, his head lowering slightly, the brim hiding his eyes, even though his smile never fades as they make their way toward the mustang. "Well, I don't think they'd protest too much, getting a Christmas card. They might find it quaint, seein' a card from a land they've never been too. Seein' snow on the ground during Christmas." He chuckles. "It took me years to get used to your winters bein' my summers and vice-versa. But…" his voice trails off as he straightens, side-stepping a businessman as they go.
"I haven't talked to my parents in years….never had a reason to, I guess. Now I do."
"Maybe a card with a letter then," Delia decides as she returns the cheek kiss before smiling up at him again. "Maybe we could write the letter together or something? Give them some pictures? …After not hering from you for so long, they're probably really worried and they'd be glad to get some news." At least that's what she hopes would happen.
When they finally get to his car, she holds out her box for him to put his on top so he can open the trunk without being burdened. "You know what would be great? I bet Lulu would love to go with us if we ever went to Australia. It'd be nice for her, you know… To get away and stuff. Also, I was thinking, after all this? If you're not so busy we could take a trip to Texas, maybe before Thanksgiving. I'd really like to see my grandpa… Maybe Uncle Brick."
"I wouldn't know about that….we kind of left on bad terms. They wanted me to go into business and I went into the military…" His box is shifted to his left hip as he digs for the key, deftly opening the trunk and slipping it inside, leaving just enough room for Delia's box since, well, the car is nicely packed. "Now aren't you glad we didn't bring it all up before talking to your brother?" A clumsy attempt to deflect the conversation.
"Just because you made your own choices doesn't mean they'd love you any less." Delia says gently, taking his hand and squeezing his fingers lightly as they stand next to the trunk together. His attempt is graciously noted and the subject dropped before they delve any further, though a quick glance is indicative enough that she might want to bring it up later.
Leaning in, she gives him a quick peck on the lips before scooting around to the passenger side of the car. One other thing they never really got to do, something she needs to add to her bucket list. Learning how to drive a standard.
It's easy enough to learn to drive a standard - but learning to drive it properly and without killing the clutch? That's the trick for a new person who gets behind the wheel. Like patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time, it's just a skill to learn. Jaiden closes the door behind Delia with a thump, walking around and sliding into the drivers seat, pushing down the clutch and hitting the start button on the dash, the engine rumbling to life with a slow loping idle that reminds one of drums in the jungle.
"I don't know…" Jaiden glances over before pulling out into traffic. "Mom tends to hold grudges."
