Maru met Alex outside of the Mullner residence at 5:00 o'clock, just as instructed. The spiky-haired man waved Maru over and introduced her to Dusty before they went inside. To show off for their guest, Alex had Dusty perform a few tricks and was rewarded with treats. "Now shake!" the athlete ordered and Dusty offered a tawny paw to Maru, who accepted it with a delighted smile and a pat on the good dog's head.

"Good boy!" she told Dusty, who wagged his tail at the praise and affection. The woman never had a pet before, but Alex and Dusty appeared to the a prime example of a loyal old dog and his master. Even as an outsider, Maru could see the appeal of companionship between humans and canines when she studied Alex's face. He seemed to let loose a little around his faithful old dog. "You have him well-trained," Maru noted aloud, praising the athlete for his work.

Alex grinned, "Dusty's smart," he informed the scientist. "I didn't do anything. I just gave him some scraps when he earned them."

"You provided positive reinforcement to teach Dusty a particular behavior," Maru insisted firmly. "That isn't nothing. It requires a lot of time and dedication." She glanced at the young man to gauge his reaction, but his face was a blank canvas. The researcher decided to conclude her statement, "Don't sell yourself short, Alex."

The letter-jacket wearer shrugged, "Whatever you say," he replied noncommittally. He smirked at her teasingly, "You're the brains of this operation, I'm the brawn."

Maru beamed back at the athlete and fished the papers full of data for Alex out of her backpack. "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," she told the athlete. "I have your results here and I hate to say it, but you have a lot of work to do..."

The spiky-haired brunet frowned visibly, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Before Maru could brief Alex on his performance evaluation, Evelyn poked her head outside to call them in for dinner. "Come along, you two," she called sweetly. "It's time to eat. George is getting grumpy!"

"Gramps is always grumpy!" Alex hollered back, but he obeyed his grandmother and gestured for Maru to follow him inside. It was sweet how Alex and his grandparents got along, the scientist thought. She was curious to know more about them.

Evelyn offered Maru the chair next to her and claimed the one closest to the stove for herself so she could better serve the meal. Alex took the seat across from their guest and George rolled into his usual spot at the corner closest to the living room. The spread was impressive. Granny Evelyn set a bowl of spring vegetables in lemon broth to start, chicken with barley and leeks as the main course, and a strawberry rhubarb pie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. "I hope you like leeks," Evelyn said to Maru as she doled out the entree, "It's one of George's favorites..."

George grumbled slightly, but Maru noticed that the curve of his wrinkled mouth trended upward. "I don't mind them," she assured her kindly host. "Thank you for having me over for dinner."

Evelyn face stretched into a smile, her skin taught over her cheekbones. "Oh, we are happy to have any friend of Alex's over to share a meal. He hardly does anything for fun..."

"Granny!" Alex protested, taking a bit of his chicken. "I have lots of training to do if I want to go pro! I don't have time for fun and games."

Maru nodded to acknowledge Evelyn's comment, but looked up at Alex. "I think the plan I have for you will allow ample opportunity for both. You need to rest your body in order for torn muscles to rebuild and grow stronger, after all."

"I know about rest days," the athlete replied through a mouthful of barley and leeks.

Finishing her soup, Maru agreed. "Yes, from your current schedule, you're doing well on building muscle mass, but you're lacking in your speed and agility. So unless you're aiming to become a defensive player."

Alex seemed offended by the idea. "I was the star quarterback of the gridball team in high school. No way am I switching to defense." He scowled slightly as he shoveled another forkful of chicken into his mouth.

"If you want to avoid serious injury, you'll need to work on being a more well-rounded player, then. The defensive line does not always hold and your chance of injury is much higher if you cannot run away, throw the ball fast enough, or evade the opposing team's tackles." Maru pause gravely, "I expect you want to end your career when you decide you had enough, not when you are forced to do so by circumstances."

As he chewed, the young man's dark eyes looked thoughtful for a moment before he swallowed. "Fine..." he relented, stealing a glance at his grandfather. The old man always complained he had been too slow to avoid the blast that stole the use of his legs. While gridball did not use dynamite, Alex knew the potential consequences of a crippling injury from George's mistakes. "We'll talk about the game plan after dinner."

Maru smiled in agreement, "That's why I'm here." she responded. Looking down at her empty bowl, the bespectacled woman then added, "And for the great food." The scientist decided to change the subject to be more inclusive to the elderly couple at the table, which she learned was a useful skill when conversing with a group over the past few years. "Granny, could I get the recipe for this soup? It's delicious!"

Elliott lingered outside the door to Penny's trailer for several minutes, contemplating how to apologize to her. The problem was he had no idea what he had done to upset her, but Elliott had been raised to believe that whenever a man made a woman cry, it was his responsibility to address the issue head-on. "I hope my invitation was not too presumptuous for an acquaintance such as myself..." he began, rehearsing his apology for the umpteenth time as he paced back and forth on the packed earth in front of the door. "It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable."

He cleared his throat and straightened posture before rapping at the door three times, as was his usual custom. The author waited patiently as he heard shuffling from the dwelling interior. Finally, after a strange crashing sound Penny emerged from the other side of the door. The young woman's emerald eyes were a bit blood-shot from her tears, but she made a noticeable effort to splash water on her face and dab her eyes so she did not look so unkempt. "Oh, Elliott..." the red-head greeted him, clearly surprised to see the tall poet at her door. "I'm sorry for leaving early," she apologized. "I hope I did not ruin the celebratory atmosphere for you." Penny flushed as she realized that she had begun unfastening the buttons of her shirt as she prepared to change into her pajamas before she answered the door. The woman had assumed her mother had come home early and simply locked herself out of the trailer, so she had not properly redressed herself for guests. The timid teacher closed the front of her cotton house robe for the sake of modesty.

Elliott seemed not to have even noticed any indecency and the glossy-haired man shook his head. "No, no. Please do not apologize for excusing yourself," he insisted sincerely. "I worry that I have upset or offended you in some manner and wish to extend my apologies for my behavior. It was not my intention to make you uncomf-"

The woman did not wait for him to finish. "I... admit that some of your recent alcohol consumption has... concerned me," Penny interrupted Elliott briefly. "But it wasn't you that made me want to leave the saloon tonight."

The author was taken aback by the ginger's first comment, but he was not standing before Penny to address her opinion of him so much as he wanted to figure out what had made her cry and try to ameliorate the situation. "May I be so bold as to ask what made you desire to flee?" he inquired, with a gentle tilt of his head. "Perhaps I can be of service..."

A laugh escaped Penny's lips, but it was a piteous signal of emotional pain. She tried to keep her tears at bay in the presence of another person and but now the dam had broken once again. "Not unless you can make someone fall in love," Penny replied with a shudder as she attempted to calm herself, "without hurting everyone else involved."

Elliott's expression softened as he began to better understand the situation. "Ah, so you have also been cruelly struck by Cupid's arrow," he replied in a soothing sigh. "And it has led to a most unfortunate heartbreak." The poet's hands reached into the inner pocket of his overcoat and extracted an embroidered handkerchief, which he offered to Penny.

Nodding gratefully, Penny accepted the white cloth and dabbed her nose and eyes as she inhaled deeply and slowly. "Vi-Violet said you had b-b-been unhappy lately because of a woman," she said shakily. Even in her distraught state, she did not want to get Violet into trouble if the farmer was not supposed to mention anything.

The author smiled sadly, "Yes. I am afraid the heart I gifted to my beloved was not treated kindly before it was returned," he admitted vaguely, adjusting the knot on his tie. "But time heals all wounds and I must wait for the sharp pain of loss to dull into a tolerable ache." Elliott noticed that the shade of green he wore around his neck perfectly matched the hue of miss Penelope's emerald eyes.

Penny realized they had been standing in the doorway for some time now and she had not offered to come in and sit down. Her eyes glanced nervously behind her, noticing the messy state of the trailer, but perhaps it was better to be embarrassed than to be a rude host. "Would you like to come inside?" she asked the poet.

His eyebrows rose in surprise and Elliott's amber eyes darted toward the door behind Penny. "I fear my antiquated upbringing will not allow me to enter the home of a young woman without a proper chaperone," he informed Penny with a nervous chuckle. "But if you would like to continue our conversation, I would be delighted to escort you for an evening stroll along the shoreline."

Penny blushed, "I-I wasn't suggesting we do anything indecent," she assured the tall man before her. "Please don't think I am the sort who would-"

"Of course not, miss Penelope," Elliott confirmed with a friendly smile. "It is simply the way my mother raised me," he informed the young woman. Elliott placed a hand on his heart, "Please believe me when I say I made no such assumption regarding your intentions."

The ginger considered her options for a moment. Maru was not around to talk about all of this right now, she was with the Mullners for the evening. If she was going to talk with anyone what she was going through, why not the person whose heart had also been broken recently? At least that would give easy common ground to discuss. Perhaps it would make her feel better than crying into her pillow all evening. "I suppose sandals are best for a walk on the beach," she thought aloud. "Let me go get them and I'll join you shortly."

"Of course. I shall await your return," Elliott agreement as he pulled a small book from his breast pocket and began to read.

Leah and Violet waited a while before giving up on Elliott coming back anytime soon, or at all. "I can't believe he ditched us like that," Leah complained, though in actuality she knew that a damsel in distress was one of Elliott's many old-fashioned weaknesses. He would probably sit with Penny until she had shared everything that upset her in the last ten years of her life. Leah loved Elliott, but the artist did not think she would ever understand that kind of patience.

Violet realized it was about time to go play pool with the gang, but she did not want to leave Leah alone. "Do you want to come sit with us in the game room?" the farmer offered.

The long-haired ginger thought it over for a moment. Leah did not want to go home so early and she did not want to sit by herself and drink for the rest of the evening. "Sure. Why not? I've got nothing else to do," she replied, emptying her glass of wine and getting a refill from Gus before the duo entered the side room.

"Hey! Special guest star: Leah!" Sam announced as the two women entered the arcade. "What brings you to the east side of the bar this evening?" he joked, as if there were a rivalry between the game-players and the bar-goers.

"Reckless abandonment," Leah answered, somewhat sarcastically. "Elliott ditched me for Penny."

Sam's eyes flickered in a way that got the artist's attention. "What do you mean?" the denim-clad man asked for clarification.

Leah shrugged, her long braid catching on her suspender strap as she did so. "Penny started crying and ran out the door and Elliott follower her," she recapped. "Not much to tell since we don't know what caused it."

"You mean Penny came into the bar?" Sebastian asked in surprise. He leaned on the pool table, holding his maple cue in the crook of his arm. "Maru told me Penny vowed she never step foot in this place if she could help it. She practically thinks this place is evil."

"It's not that dramatic," Sam informed the group. He went on to defend his friend, "Penny just doesn't like seeing her mom get shit-faced. I get it."

Abigail shrugged, "So maybe watching her mom got to her after a while?" the amethyst-haired woman offered in explanation.

Violet was unconvinced, but saw no real reason to continue speculating. The farmer did notice for the first time, however, how close Sam and Abigail were standing next to one another. The way their bodies were turned, the casual drape of Sam's arm around Abigail's shoulder... Her mouth dropped open in surprise, "You two got together, didn't you?!" she demanded to know.

The vest-wearing woman grinned, "Yeah, I had to snatch him up before all the other ladies in town tried to stake a claim," she explained, reaching around Sam's body to pull him closer in a teasingly possessive manner, "I hear he's a hot commodity."

Sam laughed nervously and Violet had a feeling there was an inside joke she was missing, but decided it was not worth pursuing at the moment. "So..." Violet began, "does this change the match-ups or are we still guys vs. girls?"

"Clearly it's still a battle of the sexes," Sam replied, but his former partner disagreed.

"You're dead to me," Sebastian told the blond with a straight face.

Sam's look of betrayal was priceless. "Fam, you said you weren't mad about me and Abigail!"

The black-clad man crossed his arms in front of his body, "I told you we're still best friends, but I never said I would still be your pool partner." His ink-black eyes focused on Abigail, "He's your responsibility now," he informed Abigail. "Good luck carrying all that dead weight."

Leah pursed her lips to contain her laughter behind her glass of strawberry wine, "If I knew the show was this good I would have started people-watching you three ages ago."

Abigail rolled her eyes, "This pettiness is a relatively new development," she informed the bystander, grabbing her cue stick from the rack on the wall.

"In any case, if you find a partner, we could just play with three teams." Violet had introduced her to the idea after hearing that Abigail always sat out before she moved into town and was appalled that she had never thought of it herself.

"You just don't want Sam to drag you down to last place," Sebastian accused the amethyst-hair woman.

"I am trying to include people who come into the arcade to hang with us," Abigail shot back. "Like how we included Violet?" Her tone suggested a friendly conspiracy of sorts and the wink Sam shot his girlfriend only deepened the artists' suspicion, so Leah decided to best way to get intel would be by joining so she could more easily chat with Abigail. "I'll be your partner, Abigail, I hear you're good."

Abigail simpered, looking pleased with herself. "Welcome to the winning team," she stated in greeting, handing off a cue stick to her new partner.

Sam wrapped his girlfriend in a hug from behind, trying to sweet talk her, "Babe, I though I was your partner?"

Abigail squirmed out of his grip, "Not if I wanna win!" she laughed and linked arms with Leah to make her point. "Even no experience is better than your fumbling," she teased.

"That's what she said," Violet groaned reluctantly, as if she could not help herself from making the bad joke. The comment got a laugh out of both Sebastian and Leah.

"Well, bud. Looks like your girlfriend ditched you..." Sebastian prodded at Sam. "So now what?"

Sam considered the situation for a moment. If Sebastian would not be his partner, he could try Violet. He was sure the farmer would play with him, but the blond wanted to keep giving Operation: Crab Cake a shot. So who else could he ask? His warm brown eyes scanned the room and he quickly found his target. "Yo, Shane!" he hollered across the arcade into the main bar. "Quit being a wallflower and come be my partner"!"

Shane, caught completely off-guard by the shout addressed to his person, nearly spilled the last of his pint as he jumped. "Why the hell would I want to play?" he responded grumpily, finishing his drink to ensure it did not get away from him.

"Oh, c'mon, Shane," Emily coaxed her friend, leaning over the counter to nudge his shoulder in the direction of the arcade room. "Sam's sunny aura might help clear up some of those storm clouds around yours," she told him confidently. "It could be fun!"

The junior alcoholic grumbled slightly, rubbing the stubble on his chin, which made a scratchy sound as he did so. "I don't like playing pool. It's a stupid game..."

Sam, overhearing Shane's negativity, chimed in with a bribe, "I'll buy you some pepper poppers, fam. Two plates if we win!"

Shane did like pepper poppers... The man glanced back at Emily, who beamed at him so encouragingly, the husky man could not help but relent. "Fine..." he sighed in resignation, setting down his empty pint on the bar counter. "Let's get this over with."

The young woman found her sandals under her bed and went outside to find her walking partner reading a small, well-worn book. Penny could not tell what Elliott was reading from the faded cover, but she saw little notes written in the margins. The teacher part of her was appalled that someone would desecrate a book in such a manner, but her curiosity got the better of her. "What are you reading?" she asked, as she stepped down from the trailer onto the dirt path beside him.

"Ah, this old thing," Elliott replied, his tone and the gentle upward curve of his lips suggesting a deep fondness for the old book. "It is my own personal collection of the poetry I enjoy most."

Penny did not want to appear nosy, but part of her wanted to know why someone would have the audacity to write in a book. "What are the little notes for?"

While his companion could not see from her angle, Elliott flushed slightly. "I suppose an educator such as yourself would scold me for it, but it is I who wrote the notes." His amber eyes scanned one page in particular, "I make my own addition when a passage speaks to me on a personal level," he explained, his pupils wagging back and forth as they traced the lines on the page. "I share my connection to the poem or how the specific line moved me or sometimes even a response. So, in a manner of speaking, this book now documents vignettes of my life." He glanced down at Penny, who now looked more curious by the idea than offended.

"That's... actually quite beautiful," the woman replied thoughtfully. "I never thought of interacting with a poem that way."

Elliott's body language relaxed, realizing now that Penny was not cross with him for ruining a book. "It is something my mother and I used to do that formed the habit into adulthood." Elliott told the red-head as he offered his arm to walk toward the beach. As Penny linked arms with him, Elliott continued. "We would write little notes in our favorite books and exchange them when I went away to school. It was a way to feel close without being physically present, I suppose..." The silky-haired man held the book out for Penny to see the tiny words in the margins. "This piece in particular was my favorite when Cassandra and I became engaged..." he confessed. Elliott's face wore a sad smile, "It is strange to look back upon that time, with the knowledge that she left me when I became disinherited. But I did love her so. And part of me still does yearn for her, even after everything that has happened to cast a dark stain upon our happy memories." As they reached the stone bridge to the beach and tucked the book away in his pocket. "I must wonder if I truly am a fool, miss Penelope."

The two stopped walking for a moment and Penny could see the water welling up in Elliott's eyes. She shook her head vigorously to prevent herself from doing the same. "I don't think anyone is foolish for loving another person," she said earnestly. "I-I think sometimes we just get unlucky." Her voice became shaky as she finished expressing her sentiment. "O-or we wait too long to t-t-tell the person how we f-feel and then he goes and dates someone else!" It was too late. Penny's emerald eyes flooded over and produced tiny streams of salt water down her face.

For a moment, Elliott's hair became a curtian against the light of the lamp post, so all Penny could see was his profile. "My, are we not a sight?" he chuckled, though from the texture of his voice, Penny suspected that Elliott had allowed himself to cry as well. Penny stepped into the shadow produced by her companion so she could better see his face. Sure enough, the sensitive man's cheeks were moistened with tears as well. "I do not wish for others to suffer, but I must confess I am pleased to have someone with whom I can commiserate," he admitted guiltily. "I am often told I am too sentimental for my own well-being. My mannerisms can be a bit... eccentric."

Penny dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief Elliott let her borrow earlier and voiced her disagreement, "I think it's wonderful when a man can express his emotions. Bottling it all up does more harm than good, I think."

"I appreciate the validation, miss Penelope," Elliott said, retrieving another handkerchief from the inner pockets of his burgundy overcoat. "I hope that you continue to express your opinion more often. I do not believe I have heard your lovely voice the entire year I have resided in this town as much as I have this evening."

If the schoolteacher were not already red in the face from her tears, she might have blushed. "Thank you... for talking to me. I do not mean to be a burden."

"I never thought anything of the sort," Elliott assured Penny with a raise of his thick eyebrows.

The weepy duo took a few moments of silence to compose themselves before continuing on to the beach. As she felt the hard stone beneath her feet slowly transition to fine sand, Penny turned her gaze up toward the waxing moon nearly three-quarters full. "I just wish I had the courage to speak up before it was too late..." she told her neighbor. "As silly as it sounds... it never occurred to me that someone else might beat me to it."

"In that aspect we are our own greatest enemies," Elliott replied solemnly, "when we do not allow ourselves to live."

The ginger pursed her lips and wrung the handkerchief in her hands, "I often wonder if I will ever have a life of my own..."

"Whatever do you mean?" Elliott inquired, tilting his head toward Penny to better read her expression.

Penny stared at the sand beneath her toes guiltily as they walked along the shore, the lapping of the waves disintegrating their footprints behind them. "My mother. She's..." the young woman was not sure if she should speak her mind or keep things polite. But then again, Penny finally had a taste for saying what she really felt today, and the young woman found she enjoyed its bittersweet taste. "She's a drunk and does not take care of herself or the house. It's like living with an ungrateful, over-sized toddler!" the young woman complained, pushing the shame of it all away for just a moment. "And yet, I have to be grateful to her, because she stuck around to raise me, unlike my father..." The red-head's voice began to crack. "So I suppose without realizing it - I put all my hopes into the dream that one day I was going to escape it all by marrying Sam and raising our children in a loving household. But now..." Penny hid her face in the embroidered cloth once again. "I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I thought I was done crying..." Pulling the soggy square from her face, she noticed Elliott's face much closer to hers than it was before. Penny bowed her face to hide how awful it must have looked from her near-constant weeping this evening.

Elliott reached a hand and gently tipped Penny's chin up toward his face, "Miss Penelope..." he said in a hushed voice, barely audible over the sound of the waves. "Never apologize for how you feel. It is what makes us undeniably unique and - most importantly - human." His hand slowly retreated back to his side, but Penny continued to look up at his chiseled features. The poet could feel his companion's gaze upon him. "Please know that I am not saying this to be flippant, but I know what it means to sacrifice for one's mother," he confessed to Penny. "Although, I cannot say I could have imagined how much it would cost me. I thought it meant I would be free to pursue my passions," he mused aloud. "But... perhaps it is for the best. I am not suited for business like my brother."

Penny noticed his amber eyes caught a special sparkle in the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. Elliott noticed the woman's stares and he began to touch his face, as if searching for something. "Is... there something on my face? Or is my hair disheveled in an undignified manner? I spend a great deal of time on my appearance, it would be an utter betrayal if they were to rebel against my wishes."

The woman laughed at the sudden shift in Elliott's mood. "No, just you."

"Ah, that is a relief," Elliott responded, running his fingers through his hair and flipping his long bangs out of his face. "All that I am is 'just me.'" The poet shifted his gaze back to Penny. "Shall we resume our moonlight stroll on the beach?" he suggested. "Tell me about your favorite books, for example."

The teacher smiled and quickened her step to fall in stride with Elliott. Together, the two walked along the shore for the rest of the evening, until the moon rose high into the night sky.