[ A package can be found at Richie's doorstep. It's nothing like the stuff Joe is used to sending to people here, but Joe isn't in the mood for games lately, and if he's honest, this is... a different situation entirely.
So there are no games. There's a long-ish black box, and two coupon vouchers tied to the outside of it with navy ribbon. One is for a dozen of anything at a bakery - not whichever one sponsored the booth that provided the snack they met over, but in the same plaza - and the other is for one meal order from a hole-in-the-wall café in the Down, no menu restrictions.
The box itself is plain with no logos, and contains a corked bottle of Duplicity's closest approximation to sauvignon blanc. There's no vintner's seal or label on it, but a small card is included. One side describes the wine's characteristics and history, including a small seal that vows no extraneous chemicals were added to it for 'effect'.
On the other side is a scribbled note. It's a little difficult to read, but can be worked through with a few seconds of effort per word. Penmanship isn't really Joe's strong suit, and he avoids writing by hand whenever possible. This, however, seems the right time for a sorely needed personal touch - at least as personal as he can muster. There's no animosity or ill will to it, but it's still a little awkward. He's always been better with crowds than individuals.
"Condolences.
Sorry if this is impersonal. I don't know if you're the type to need comfort food or not. Don't know what would help or harm in general, but consider this a shot in the dark. I'm truly sorry.
I haven't broken into the wine yet or used the voucher. maybe we can split the baker's dozen
[It's comforting, at least, that someone else gets it and even though Richie knew about Joe and Eddie in his absence he felt lonelier than ever. The wound wouldn't close. It'd be easy to lash out but he doesn't have the energy for it and so he lets the bridge be repaired instead of severing ties. He needed as many friendly faces as he could get in the wake of his absence.]
[ As shallow and selfish as it may be, it's the memory of Gordon's hug in a vaguely similar situation that drives him to agree. Not precisely, and he'd no sooner have taken up with Donna than Gordon would have with Sara, but there's still a faint parallel, however tangential. The comfort is what counts, and if Richie is still here when Eddie isn't, Joe is pretty sure comfort is even more at a premium for him than for Joe himself. He learned the hard way that it's the worst way to need someone.
And he's not ready for this conversation, nor does he know whether or not Richie is, but Joe can't put down the urge to move forward that's driven him for years at this point, and he needs it to be said, so. ]
For what it's worth, I didn't know it was you he meant, at first. By the time I figured it out, I already hadn't seen him in a while. If I'd known... I do mean it. I'm sorry.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
parcel; some days after The Departure™
So there are no games. There's a long-ish black box, and two coupon vouchers tied to the outside of it with navy ribbon. One is for a dozen of anything at a bakery - not whichever one sponsored the booth that provided the snack they met over, but in the same plaza - and the other is for one meal order from a hole-in-the-wall café in the Down, no menu restrictions.
The box itself is plain with no logos, and contains a corked bottle of Duplicity's closest approximation to sauvignon blanc. There's no vintner's seal or label on it, but a small card is included. One side describes the wine's characteristics and history, including a small seal that vows no extraneous chemicals were added to it for 'effect'.
On the other side is a scribbled note. It's a little difficult to read, but can be worked through with a few seconds of effort per word. Penmanship isn't really Joe's strong suit, and he avoids writing by hand whenever possible. This, however, seems the right time for a sorely needed personal touch - at least as personal as he can muster. There's no animosity or ill will to it, but it's still a little awkward. He's always been better with crowds than individuals.
"Condolences.
Sorry if this is impersonal. I don't know if you're the type to need comfort food or not. Don't know what would help or harm in general, but consider this a shot in the dark. I'm truly sorry.
-Joe" ]
text;
Thanks.
I haven't broken into the wine yet or used the voucher.
maybe we can split the baker's dozen
[It's comforting, at least, that someone else gets it and even though Richie knew about Joe and Eddie in his absence he felt lonelier than ever. The wound wouldn't close. It'd be easy to lash out but he doesn't have the energy for it and so he lets the bridge be repaired instead of severing ties. He needed as many friendly faces as he could get in the wake of his absence.]
text ∞; UN: interrobang
[ As shallow and selfish as it may be, it's the memory of Gordon's hug in a vaguely similar situation that drives him to agree. Not precisely, and he'd no sooner have taken up with Donna than Gordon would have with Sara, but there's still a faint parallel, however tangential. The comfort is what counts, and if Richie is still here when Eddie isn't, Joe is pretty sure comfort is even more at a premium for him than for Joe himself. He learned the hard way that it's the worst way to need someone.
And he's not ready for this conversation, nor does he know whether or not Richie is, but Joe can't put down the urge to move forward that's driven him for years at this point, and he needs it to be said, so. ]
For what it's worth, I didn't know it was you he meant, at first. By the time I figured it out, I already hadn't seen him in a while. If I'd known... I do mean it. I'm sorry.
no subject
It's fine. Don't worry about it, man. I should've known better. Nothing lasts forever. Not even second chances. I guess.
Hard not to feel like I didn't waste all my time preoccupied by the wrong shit.