A/N: Chapter summary: plot plot plot RICHOBEL FUN plot plot plot CHESLIE FEELZ (pt 1)
Charles knew, as he stepped down after the second, extended set that he'd missed a lot in the past hour or so. No sooner had Rob and Cora Crawley made their flamboyant entrance than Tom Branson had hustled Elsie outside, looking worried. They had returned fifteen minutes or so later, accompanied by Sybil Crawley and Matt Grant, Elsie still looking distracted as she stepped back behind the bar, leaving the younger people to sort themselves out.
Isobel Grant and a mustachioed guy roughly her age, whom Charlie didn't recognize, came in a bit later, conferred with Elsie and Anna, resulting in the waitress grabbing her coat and leaving. She didn't look particularly upset; rather, determined. Andy, Elsie and Daisy worked full-tilt for the next forty-five minutes, until the band called it a night.
Gladdie and Chuck shrugged their coats on, heading home to waiting spouses and warm beds. Tom joined Ed, who currently appeared to be regaling the Crawley sisters and their hangers-on with some elaborate tale. Mary and Edith had shown up soon after their parents and younger sister, with two guys in tow: one pleasant-looking but rather nondescript, the other, with his wavy black hair, toothy smile and well-cut clothes, giving off movie star vibes.
Donk's took on a mellower, late-night vibe after the second set, as it always did, when folks started feeding quarters into the gorgeous Wurlitzer to get their music fix; not just honky tonk, but pop and rock faves and, of course, lots of slow, smoochy stuff.
Unlike his band mates, Charlie didn't have a spouse awaiting him; accordingly, he found himself gravitating in the direction of the bar, where Elsie was deep in conversation with Isobel and her date, both of whom looked thoroughly overdressed for Donk's.
"Dr. Grant, Elspeth," he greeted the ladies, then turned to Isobel's friend. "Charles Carson," he stuck his hand out.
"Richard Clarkson," the man replied, gripping his hand firmly. "I work with Isobel. I just started at the clinic a few weeks ago. I hear you're the go-to guy around here if I want anything to get done."
"Don't believe everything you hear," Charles grinned wryly, turning back towards Elsie, who was handing him a drink. She looked tired, but she was smiling at him. "Much obliged, Elspeth." He raised his glass to her.
"Any time," she grinned back at him. She was certainly subdued; he wondered what exactly had happened in the past hour and a half. Before he could ask, she was distracted by Daisy coming up to the bar, grabbing a trio of beers Andy had set out for her. "Daisy, bring those over, then call it a night, you and Andy both."
"You sure, Elsie?" Daisy's forehead wrinkled. "We've got at least an hour 'til it really clears out."
"Yeah, I'm sure," Elsie replied, as Andy walked over. "You guys seriously hustled the last hour or so, and didn't even question it. I really appreciate it, especially tonight," she nodded her head towards Rob and Cora, who were slowly revolving on the dance floor to an '80s power ballad.
"Is Anna alright?" Andy asked quietly.
"She's fine," Isobel piped up, glanced over at Elsie, then Richard. "We were trying to keep the fuss to a minimum, given Elsie's special guests tonight – can you be a guest at your own bar? Anyway, when John tried drive Pete home after the kerfuffle here, Pete, well, tried to exit a moving vehicle, and…there was a bit of an accident," she finished, shrugged.
"Shit," Andy said. "Is John okay?"
"Indeed he is," Isobel replied. "Dr. Clarkson here patched him up with a few stitches, and he's good to go. We promised not to bill him if he promised not to report us to the AMA." She chuckled, as did Richard.
Charlie noticed Daisy had gone very serious, staring at her tray of beers. "Okay, Daisy?" He asked.
"Yeah, fine," she looked up, and Charlie was startled to see she was close to tears.
"Hey, Dee, what's up?" Andy asked her, searching her face.
Elsie was also watching the young woman. "Let me run these over to your table, Daisy." She came around the bar, passed him, squeezed his arm, much to his surprise. She took the tray from the waitress and hurried over to a corner table to deliver the drinks.
"Don't tell Elsie, but…but I don't like Pete," Daisy's voice was barely a whisper at this point. Charlie and Isobel exchanged a surprise glance. Charlie had barely recognized Pete earlier; he was vaguely familiar the way dozens of people around here were to him, and tonight was certainly the first time he ever drew attention to himself, at least here in Donk's. "I know she tries to help him out, 'cause he was friends with her sister, but…he was friends with my parents too," she shook her head, continued. "Not Bee and Al, my…my…other parents." She shrugged again, "I just don't like him." She swiped angrily at a tear rolling down her cheek.
"Hey, you heard Elsie, let's get out of here. I'll buy you an omelet at the diner, drive you home," Andy passed Daisy her coat.
"Yeah, okay, sounds good," she smiled a little. "Andrew." And they both laughed, sharing a secret glance between them.
Isobel exchanged a quick look with Richard, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "Daisy, can I talk to you for a few minutes? Privately?"
"Yeah, alright," Daisy pulled her knit hat on, zipped up her parka. "See you outside in a few?" She smiled at Andy, and the two women walked away, stood by the door, deep in conversation.
Elsie came back, followed the men's gaze over to her friend and her employee. Her forehead creased a little, then relaxed as the two women embraced. Daisy typed something into her cell phone, nodding at Isobel.
"She's all yours, Andy," Iz greeted them when she walked back.
"Maybe," the bartender replied rather contemplatively, and the four older people burst out laughing, and he shrugged, reddened as he bid them goodbye.
Elise walked behind the bar, faced the three of them. Stared at her friend.
"Iz?"
"Later, I promise. Really. Right now, I believe I'd like to dance, if you're game, Dr. Clarkson? I know this has been not quite your standard first date," she turned to Richard, her eyes glinting with mischief.
"All the better, I think," Richard replied. "This may, in fact, be the most interesting first date I've ever been on." He stood, smiling down at her. Charles and caught Elsie's eye, winked.
"Well, I haven't been on a first date in oh, god, thirty-five years or so, so I've nothing to compare it to, but I'm glad you think we're doing well," Isobel replied, and the other three laughed. She looked perplexed. "What?"
"Don't bother trying to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult, Rich," Elsie was still laughing. "I would just take her to dance, now, while you're both still ahead of the game."
Charles watched them go, and Elsie leaned over the bar, close enough for him to smell her shampoo, again. Hair care as aphrodisiac, he though, and chuckled a bit. Then he noticed Elsie watching him, the corner of her mouth turning up a little. Now he better understood why she had handled Pete so carefully. He didn't know much about her sister, other than she had some sort of mental breakdown, right around the time everything went down with Joe and Alice. He was ashamed to say he didn't even know the woman's name, or if she was older or younger than Elsie.
"I'm glad they're having a good time," Elsie murmured. "He seems smart, and nice, and, surprisingly enough, charmed by the rather, shall we say, blunter aspects of Iz's personality."
"Isobel is good people," he replied.
"One of the best," she answered, smiling bigger now. "I owe her a lot."
He sat there for a few moments, as she took care of a few customers, though the place was slowly emptying out. He just watched her, doing the mundane things that went along with running a bar, happy to be sitting here, nearby. Rob, Cora and their daughters left with their group in a great bustle of good cheer and snarky conversation. They were all coming back tomorrow, late afternoon, for dinner catered by Bee Mason, before Donk's opened for the evening. Charlie promised to be there.
"I see no fewer than three love triangles developing between all of those kids," Elsie laughed after they had left.
"That's the age to be stupid about love," he answered, then chided himself.
"Shit, I wish someone had told me," she responded, laughing. "I also just realized I've gotta break this place down by myself. I sent everyone home." She didn't look too bothered by the prospect.
"I can help you out," he answered, jumping up. "Please, order me around."
"I will," she handed him a bussing bin. "Go grab as many empties as you can, dump anything left in them, sort and put into the proper racks."
"Aye, aye, cap'n," he offered her a small salute, grabbing the bin.
"Thanks, Charlie."
His heart soared. "You're very welcome, Elsie."
oooOOOooo
"That's it, I think," Elsie tucked the large push broom in the closet on the side of the stage, turned towards him.
He flipped the last two chairs back down onto the floor, pushing them in tidily. Suddenly, his heart fluttered nervously. They'd had Donk's to themselves for the past half hour, once they pushed Izzy and Richard, who had insisted on helping a little, out the door. But they hadn't really seemed alone, not until now, each of them moving around efficiently, focused on the tasks of shutting the place down for the night, their industry accompanied by a stream of music emanating from the jukebox.
He turned and took her in, one hand on her hip, the other blowing a stray hair out of her eyes. Her smile changed, shifted. She could feel it too, he figured. It was late, they were tired, and standing less than twenty feet away from each other.
She cleared her throat. "I guess I better unplug the Tree of Wonder," she said softly.
"Oh, that reminds me!" He dashed over to where his satchel was, grabbed a plan brown bag from it. "I've been meaning to give this to you all night."
"I'm afraid," she muttered, grinning at the bag in her hand. She opened it, burst out laughing. "No you did not!"
"There were no turkeys," he shrugged. She pulled the gag rubber chicken he'd bought out, and seriously applied herself to attaching it to the top of the tree. She stood back when it met her criteria, bumped her hip against him jokingly.
"The biggest challenge will be making sure no one steals it," she'd folded her arms across her chest and seemed truly pleased with his surprise tree topper. She glanced up at him, and he could see something working in her eyes. "Care to dance, Mr. Mayor?"
He went hot, then cold, then hot again. He could scarcely believe she'd said it, it was so near what he'd wanted to say to her.
"I thought you'd never ask, Elspeth," he responded, extended his hand, making a show of twirling her in towards him, and she laughed. But then, when their bodies were actually touching, everywhere, they both got quiet. She looked up at him briefly, then put her head against his chest. Something slow and slightly melancholic came from the Wurlitzer. He couldn't name the song, or the singer, but it hardly mattered, right now.
They swayed together for those fleeting two, three, four minutes, in the dim but cozy glow of Donk's, neither really sure what would happen next, but content, in each other's company, for the moment.