It went on for almost an hour. There was none of Susan's trademark laughter, and not much of her trademark smile. She would occasionally pick up pieces of paper from Pacifica's presentation and scan over them, holding open her lazy eye to read over the battered old paperwork and add clarity to the words of her young deputy manager.
Susan's eyes widened as she looked over the records they had made of the Northwests and their machinery. She recoiled at the facts of Cornelius's fate at the hands of his own family. She stared in awe at the photographs of what the kids had seen, what they had done, what they knew and didn't know.
She glanced at the photos of old No.4 on the wall, at the fragments of the locomotive that she had on display as decor in the diner - and at the photograph of her father, which she kept inside her purse at all times. The elaborate web woven by the Northwests was nothing if not impressive; nothing if not startling. Every word and event seemed to grow more into the occult and the bizarre. Every event seemed noticeably dark and uncomfortable to confront. It was nothing if not pure Gravity Falls - and as little as Susan had been prepared for it all, she was utterly enraptured by the retrospective placed in front of her.
Her face was impressively difficult to read. Pacifica didn't know if she was going to get kicked out of the Diner, and she was only getting more and more concerned by what she had said. Had she missed anything? Had she explained properly? Did it all make sense?
By the time she came to the end of it, tears were trickling down Pacifica's face. The words had become slower and seemed to become gurgled and stunted, running in tandem with sobs and sniffles as the Northwest heir struggled to, once again, confront her family's misdeeds - and confront what they had done. What they were. A group of cultish weirdos worshipping a triangle and squashing anybody who didn't.
Finally - with her hands between her legs, her head down, and her eyes closed, Pacifica finished with those desperately sad, desperately hurt final words. "I'm sorry, Susan. I'm so, so sorry."
"I appreciate it, Pacifica." Susan wiped the counter clean of Pacifica's tears with a smile. "Now, let's get this place ready for the day, huh?"
"I… I understand if you don't want me here anymore."
Susan chuckled and knelt down, perching her chin on the counter as she looked up at her deputy manager with a smile. "Why would I not want the cutest little waitress in the state?"
"You aren't mad?"
"Pacifica, I'm in my 60s. I've seen and heard a lot in this town; it never ceases to amaze me what crazy stuff I find out every week, especially when it's from you and the Pines kids. What you've just told me is some of the most horrible stuff I've ever heard." She said, sternly, leaning on the counter top. "It also all happened before you were born."
"But- but the Northwests-"
"Were horrible people. Some of the worst. Maybe the worst." Susan said. "Manipulative, insane, evil, occult obsessed weirdos with more money than sense. But they did have some good in them, Pacifica. They gave us you, didn't they?" Susan smiled and ruffled her hair. "And, by hook or by crook, they did also give us this place."
Susan proudly spread her arms out, gesturing towards her pride and joy, her livelihood - her everything. Greasy's Diner. A shabby, warped, slightly broken redwood trunk that sat perched on an antique railroad flatbed where a train had landed, killing far too many people and causing far too many tetanus cases. A place infested with woodpeckers, beavers, and a possum called Charlie.
A place that was once threatened with a lawsuit for offering endless pancakes. A place where they pour pork fat into your coffee upon request. A place that stocked up on mustard from Denmark but labelled it over with American brands to calm down the bigoted old man from Mallard Street.
Pacifica looked up and sniffled as she took in the sight of the overbearingly rustic, shabby and consistent splinter hazard that was her favourite place in Gravity Falls. And smiled. "Yeah."
"Sometimes, great things can come from horrible events, Pacifica. There's you, there's this place, and while Weirdmageddon may have been an apocalypse, it brought this town closer together." Susan held her cheek and handed her a tissue. "If we keep dwelling on the bad bits of the past, how are we gonna look towards the good bits of the future?"
Pacifica's frown cracked into a wide smile. "I should have told you sooner."
"Ah-ba-bap. There's the past, again." Susan smiled, pinching her cheek. "How about focusing on our future customers?"
"You got it!" The young waitress replied. By the way, Stan wanted me to tell you how great he was."
"Didn't he crash a jeep?"
"Hey, he did it pretty great." Pacifica beamed, waving away the accusation. "If he hadn't crashed it, we'd have gotten squashed by a giant eyeball."
Susan snort-laughed. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind."
Pacifica watched her boss pottering around as if the morning's revelations were nothing compared to running the diner, dancing away and singing slightly out of tune to more 1950s and 60s tunes. Proof positive, really, of that rather strange fit she had with Stan Pines.
She figured that it was testament to the closure she had given in that Susan seemed to be in an even better mood than before Pacifica's completely traumatic retelling of the past few weeks' events. Perhaps it was the fact that the Wentworth name had been cleared to the one person it meant the most to. Or perhaps it was just that Susan really, really liked their more emotional, heartwarming moments. The moments with the daughter she had never had. Or the moments Pacifica had with the mother she had never had.
Sure, there were occult backstories, backstabbing, betrayal, triangle worship, aliens and industrial espionage - but Pacifica still kinda preferred her new life to beauty contests and magazine covers. Small mercies.
All the same, as she glanced at the calendar at the wall, it only became more of a fierce, unwavering reminder.
Summer was almost over. The story of Dipper and Mabel's return to Gravity Falls was coming to an end. And with an ending, there were new beginnings - it was just a case of working out what she really wanted.