Reece Looks Up With A Jump, A Bit Startled To Be Called Out Like This. And It's Not His Fault And It's

reece looks up with a jump, a bit startled to be called out like this. and it's not his fault and it's not her fault, it's simply the ice cream's fault, "sorry, i was just wondering about how they make waffle bowls," he gestures down at the waffle bowl holding their cherry cordial scoop, "do you think there's a how it's made about them?" but then they snap out of it, looking at esme, "anyway, that's for me to find out later. i'm listening now. promise." he salutes his friend, sitting up straight in his seat to prove that he's really listening.

WHERE: hollow creek ice cream shop. WITH: reece canosa / @asundcr.

" i'm not sure where they'd even be operating from — like — okay, really long shot, but what if they're not even from here ? someone who moved, or — " she stops. rolls it back and sets their eyes on him with a deep frown. sometimes they forget not everyone is as enthused about her search as she is. esme tips her shades down to peer at them over her glasses, cotton candy ice cream in front of her long forgotten. " i can't even see you well and i know you're not listening to me. do you hate me ? is that it ? that has to be it. " a huff as she sits back in the shitty metal chair, but her tone is light, the characteristic bite nowhere to be found.

she's seldom missed a day of work in thirty years even if she was sick, but she doesn't bother pointing that out. the longest she's ever taken off was probably when she had dash — yet another knock against him, it seems. "hm." miranda lets out a breath, closing her eyes for a moment before opening them and setting her ice cold stare on her son again, "well, feet pictures are the lest of your worries, i think. considering he told me that you got fired." miranda lets that hang between them for a moment before adding, "do you want to tell me how that happened? and it's in your best interest not to lie to me again."

"woah, woah, stay away! wouldn't want you to miss work." lest there's one less evil rich man roaming the earth, dash thinks to himself, as he desperately moves to place some distance between them. the full length of the sofa and the coffee table should do the trick. any closer and she might smell where he's been all night. he looks down at his feet, cursing the hell out of these open ended questions. it could be anything! "well, mr. phillips has been acting weird ever since he asked for your feet pics and i told him that was inappropriate. so i'd take everything he tells you with a pinch of salt."

And Summers reading body language. -Rachel 

miranda gives isaac a withering, though mostly good-natured, look. even if he makes a good point, she's never one to admit when she's wrong and she's not going to start now, "isaac, dash was fired, so i feel as if i'm allowed to be a bit hard on him right now." granted, her son is a grown adult fully capable of making his own choices — blah, blah, blah — but she's still mad. "i have given my kids every opportunity to succeed. i can't just watch him throw that away!" of course, she can watch him do that, miranda just doesn't want to.

WHERE: hollow creek winery. WITH: @asundcr / miranda graves.

isaac likes the winery. when he was younger, he'd worked here a few summers, serving drinks and bartending — easy money, easier tips. then, the smell of vines and warmth of the sun was comforting because it was familiar; now, it's comforting because it's a socially acceptable way to day drink. " you're being too hard on them, i think. " a little click of his tongue as he brings the wine glass to his lips, wetting them with the red. makes a show of swallowing as he continues, " you're expecting too much. "