"So."
Nerves frayed, Green takes a sip of his soda. "So." He closes his eyes and draws shapes on the glass's beading surface.
Marcus grins bemusedly. Despite the lighthearted atmosphere of the café they sit in, his gaze is strained, and his hands clench the coffee mug before him tightly. "How have you been, Green? It's been, what, seven years?"
"Seven," Green confirms.
"Last I saw you, you were so small." His gaze falls to study the wisps of steam rising from the house blend. "You've grown so much." A thumb strokes the side of the porcelain contemplatively.
An awkward hush falls over the pair for several minutes. Throat tight, Green lifts his drink for a sip, and takes a deep breath when he swallows. "Sorry to call you so late," he says.
"No, it's alright," Marcus insists. "I'd just gotten home. The museum closes late on Wednesdays."
"How's that going?" Green asks, more out of discomfort with the silence than genuine interest.
The older man drums his fingers on his mug dismissively. "Fine enough. Management changed recently, and I can't say I'm thrilled with the new director, but… what are you gonna do?" His smile wavers. "And Leaf hasn't been by since I moved. I thought that working there might make it easier to see her, since she always loved walking up to see the fossils, but her mother…" He trails off.
Green takes another sip of his soda. "I'm sorry."
Again, the man drums his fingers on his mug. "It is what it is."
A waiter steps over from the next table over, retying his apron as he speaks. "Welcome back, Marcus."
"Sammy," Marcus reciprocates. "This is Green, an old neighbor. Green, Sammy."
"Hello," Green says.
Sammy bobs his head to return the greeting and fishes a notepad from his apron pocket. "Can I get you two anything to eat? The special today is an Oran berry cobbler."
"That sounds lovely, thank you," Marcus says. He turns back to Green. "Would you like anything? My treat."
"For here or to go on the cobbler?" Sammy asks.
"To go would be great," Marcus answers.
Green resumes tracing patterns on his bottle. "I'm fine, thanks."
"Ah, okay." Sammy takes off to retrieve the order, and silence reigns once more. "This is a bit awkward. Sorry. It's sort of surreal."
"What?" Green asks obligingly.
Marcus rubs the back of his neck, tanned skin darkening with an excited flush. "I haven't seen Leaf in seven years. It isn't exactly a secret among the town, I'm sure." He pauses. "And while I am worried about her — there's a reason Quinn and I separated, after all — I'm thrilled that I might be able to meet up with her again." A broad, unbidden smile, tinged as it is with worry, breaks across his face. "I wonder how she's grown, if she's changed much… seven years is a long time."
"Here you go, Marcus," Sammy says, placing a folding pastry box on the table.
"Oh, thank you," Marcus says. The waiter nods and disappears back into the kitchen. "Are you sure you don't want anything?"
Green shakes his head. His throat feels closed-off.
"I see." The older man shuffles in his seat and glances up to check the clock behind the counter. "Ah. I've got work in an hour, so… I have to run." He tosses a few bills onto the table. When he stands, he offers Green a hand. They shake. "It was nice to meet you again," he says, and Green knows, in his warm grip and his thankful eyes, he's genuine.
"It's nothing," Green murmurs. "I wasn't busy."
"Still." Marcus claps him on the shoulder, and Green wonders if this is what a proud father's grasp feels like. "Thank you for looking out for Leaf, Green. I can't say it enough." Then he pulls him close, just enough that the contact can be considered a hug, but not enough that it's uncomfortable. The warmth is oddly pleasant. "I'll take over now. You've done more than your share, son."
He starts out the door. Green takes a moment to let it all sink in, and runs after him.
"Wait!" he shouts, gripping the door frame. He nearly trips over his feet as he hastens down the sidewalk.
The man turns, brows raised, and waits for the younger to catch up. "Yes?"
"I…" Green pauses, and realizes he'd never thought of what to say. "Leaf is—" He scuffs his shoe on the pavement and shoves his hands in his pockets. "Well. She's special."
Marcus' patient smile softens. "I'm well aware."
It takes another second to arrange his words. "She likes a light on when she sleeps," Green says. "And ice in her water. She can't stand cold showers. And — and she hates it when people don't check that the tap is off."
"I see." The other man laughs good-naturedly.
Green flushes. "Just… take care of her," he says. "Please."
Before he can think to say another word, Green takes off in the other direction, straight for home.
a/n green is a sentimental garbage can confirmed, pass it on