It's the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday. Most people are busy with, you know, /jobs/ or /school/ or any number of productive adulting things. Not Lala. Nope! She continues to contribute nothing to the advancement of society, just floating along on her cloud of privileged slackerdom. Having rolled out of bed only a few hours ago, she texted a few people:
wut r u doing?
working
ditch and hang wit me bitch! lol
i can't
maybe later
jesus lala, get a job
LOSER
She doesn't know too many people yet, still a new face here in Vermont. So she got dressed, hopped into her car and drove around the city exploring a bit. Coming across an ice cream shoppe, the lazy blonde decided to stop for a while and chill. With a sundae slowly melting in front of her, she scrolls through Instagram and likely misses her life back in Los Angeles.
Siiiiiigh.
Speaking of drifting through life, here's Gigi. An enigma, really. Modestly successful mystery writer, matriarch of this odd Vermont family, general force to be reckoned with... Yet she drifts. Nothing quite holds her interest. Nothing seems important. Not unless she's about ready to tear someone a new one.
So maybe that's why she's here, in Dare? Drifting. Getting ice cream?
If that were the case, she probably would be heading for the counter. But she's not. She's heading directly for Lala. She older woman sports a smile as she approaches. "Oh, there you are... I'm sorry it took me so long to get a free moment," she says. Aww, aunt Gigi! So sweet and warm! "Did you already order?" she asks.
Of course, all of this is presented as if Gigi and Lala had arranged this date. They hadn't. How the heck did Gigi know where to find her...?
Her slouch straightens, Lala looking up when Gigi addresses her. There is a blink, a moment of surprise -- wut how when huuuuh? -- before an easy, crooked smile breaks over her featues. "Hey, Aunt G," she greets, motioning to the spot opposite her. "Didn't know you were coming, otherwise I would have waited to order." That sundae is looking mighty sad, like a snowman come spring.
Lala knows why she was sent to Vermont. She suspects that Gigi knows why she's here, too. So there is a tremor of nervousness, the feeling of a kid who has been sent to the principle's office. So she doesn't let the air between them hang still for very long -- she waves over to the waitress.
"Hey! Can we have a menu over here? Thanks."
Elbows on the table, lean forward, phone down. "So!" Beat. "How have you been?"
Gigi just gives a little wave towards the waitress. "Vanilla with caramel sauce... with pecans," she orders. No menu needed. Her attention shifts back to Lala, as she slips into the chair across the way. Her eyes fall on Lala's sundae, then rise back up to the woman's face. That warm smile does not fade. It's like a fuzzy hug!
Of course, Lala's probably seen Gigi mad. Don't get too comfortable.
"Life continues along," she says. "Floyd has been doing his best to send me to an early grave, how frustrating that man gets," she sighs out. "But. That's hardly worth talking thorugh. How have you been?" she asks. "Settling in alright?"
"Oh yeah," Lala replies, leaning back slowly. "I'm all set up in one of the guest suites and a bunch of my stuff just showed up the other day; I think my parents expect me to be out here for a while so you guys are probably stuck with me for a bit." She punctuates that with a charming little wink and an adorable grin. Oh, that smile!
And see, that's the thing about Lala. She was never the smartest Garreau. The drive to learn and experiment and CREATE somehow skipped her. Her talents have always been in her ability to charm and persuade; how many times did she rope her cousins into doing something idiotic? How many times were they the ones to shoulder the blame?
She is tiptoeing carefully with Gigi, though. The stupid little imp knows that her aunt is likely much too smart to fall for her little games and is hip to her manipulative ploys. Must. Proceed. With. Caution. If care is not taken, she might be forced to .. god, dare she even think it? GET A JOB.
"Well..." Gigi responds. Her smile goes a touch sharper, as do her eyes. Okay, that's... not so warm and fuzzy. "I do imagine you will be here a little while," she says. And something about it sounds just a little bit like a prison sentence. "What do you need out west, anyways? Things are more real here," she offers up. "We've also got better beer," she tacks on there, and her smile goes back to sly. "And Bernie Sanders." Because clearly Gigi knows what the kids are about these days!
There's a pause, as Gigi graciously accepts that ice cream sundae from the waitress, and then eyes are back on Lala. "So, what have you been doing to... keep yourself busy?" she asks. See, Lala's not that dumb! 'Keep busy' is like THIS close to 'get a job'.
"Listen, Bernie Sanders was a white dude-bro pipe dream. He never would have won against Trump. The fantasy that he could have is delusion fostered by the fact that he never ran against the Evil Cheeto directly and, therefore, was never subjected to the dirt they had on him. Clinton didn't go after him like Trump would have and if he had made it to the general, it would have come out that he wrote an essay about how women fantasy about rape, how he was on unemployment until his 30s, how he stole electricity from his neighbors, how he voted against the Amber Alert system and said, on camera, that supporting that Sandinistas was 'patriotic'. Plus, middle America would have never gotten on-board with an avowed atheist Socialist," Lala replies with a shake of her head. "I mean, I didn't like Hillary Clinton either but .. jeez. All the options were shit, yannow?"
Huh. Who would have thought that bubble-head here would have such opinions on politics. But anyway! She rubs the back of her neck and squints slightly. "I will miss the weather out West. Any my friends. Winter will be rough on my car," -- the expensive little Lotus parked out front must be hers! Dollars to donuts she'll crash it after the first snowfall.
Dazzling smile breaks through and she leans forward again. "But! It's awesome to be out here! With family, with older, better friends! New beginnings, right?" Did she answer how she is keeping herself busy? No. Not really at all. She just went on a distracting Bernie-rant.
Gigi's gaze shifts to unamused, as she slowly spoons ice cream. She waits for that little monolog to finish and then lifts her spoon, and points. "Young lady, you will not profane the name of Bernie Sanders," she says. "Not unless you're with some of your little friends and looking to start a fight," she says, with finality in her voice.
She takes another spoonful of ice cream, and then she does turn to look, off towards Lala's car. Or where Lala's car might be. Her attention shifts back quickly enough. "Get a new car," she decides. "And the weather... well. Get a new coat," she says.
Gigi's eyes fall back to her ice cream, which she pokes at again. "New beginnings is right. New. Different. Not repeating our same mistakes," she says. Her eyes flick back up, and oh, the way she stares. Like she can see right into your soul. "What have you been doing since you arrived, Laura?" she asks, much more directly.
Oh shit. Lala /might/ have been about to continue to debate Bernie's fitness for the Oval Office but then Gigi pulled out 'Laura' and things got serious. The blonde's mouth snaps shut and she sits up a bit straighter; it's like her aunt has struck her across the knuckles with a ruler without even having to touch her at all.
"Mostly, I have been settling in," she admits. While some might be sheepish about this admission, her tone is smooth and business-like. "..and getting a lay of the land. Assessing the social landscape, if you will." She picks up her spoon and uses it to stir at the mostly soupy mixture her sundae has become.
"I have been helping CB Alexander develop his brand. He is an unwilling recipient of my help which makes it all the more delightful of a challenge. Other than that, I am looking for opportunities." She pushes her lips over to one side and studies her aunt, watching her expression to see how this will land.
Oh, yes, it's serious. Real first name serious! Gigi continues to stare in a silent little challenge. But Lala straightens up and flies right and all is well. "Just stay out of trouble, hm?" she offers, in response to settling in. To the lay of the land. But, then, CB. Her brows go up, and she gives an incredulous laugh. "CB Alexander?" she asks. "The man who must have made a deal with the devil to get out of prison?" she asks. "The man who threw a fire bomb at a police officer?" she asks. "What in God's holy name, girly, do you think you can help that man with?"
Her shoulders move up and down in a casual sort of shrug. "He styles himself as some kind of revolutionary, the voice of a cause that would call out to people to rise up. But he sits at a typewriter and he has no presence. He does stunts like .. the police station. Stupid, right? So I can help build him up. Give him a platform. A way to get his message out. It's all about exposure and brand, yeah? So I can help him."
Lala smiles. It's a small, secretive little thing because .. Garreaus are no friends of Alexanders.
"Or I can tear him down. The higher I build him, the harder the fall .. if I so choose it." The blonde flicks her hair back over her shoulder and here comes another shrug: SHRUG. "Franky is very fond of him though. It will all depend on her. Things stay cool between them, it's all good. He hurts her.." DOOM. Lala will be unleashed!
Or something. There is a high chance she will have moved on by then, distracted and occupied by something or someone else.
Gigi just gives a sigh, and a shake of her head, but she's smiling all the same. "You girls," she says. Lala and Franky. Who could ask for better nieces! "Just be careful. I don't want to have to head down to the station to bail you out because you've got some dumbass ideas about helping revolutionaries... or building them up or..." She just gives a wave of a hand, dismissing the thought. And, really, that's not a rejection of the idea, or a chastisement or anything such thing. So that's good?
There's a pause, and then it finally comes. "You found a job yet?"
Uuuuugh. There is it. The dreaded 'J' word. Lala squirms. Literally. She wiggles where she sits and scrunches up her nose. "Do I have to?" she actually asks. "I mean, it's not like I neeeeed one." Her parents set her up with a trust fund that keeps her quite comfortable; probably a mistake on their part but what can you do?
"I mean, wouldn't it selfish of me to get a job and take it away from someone who actually needs it? It would be, like, stealing food off people's tables." Those big blue eyes of hers turn the sympathy dial up to 10 and she pushes her lower lip out at her aunt in a sad pout. Think of the the poor, starving kids, Aunt G!
Oh, how effective a plea that is! Or maybe it's the pout that gets it. Gigi, too, gives a soft frown. "Oh, honey, you're right," she says, her voice ever so soft and comforting. She'll even reach out to take one of Lala's hands and give a squeeze, if it's within reach. "You're absolutely right. You don't need the money. And you don't want to take away from someone who needs the money," she says. Oh, wait. Where's she going with this? "So, it's agreed, then?" she asks.
"You'll find somewhere to volunteer?"
Noooooooooooooooo! Not charity work! Doing something for nothing?! GAH. That is /the worst/. Lala is likely screaming inside, mentally throwing herself down and beating the ground with her fists. But outwardly, she just smiles at her aunt and nods. "Of course," -- WHY -- "..I love giving back," -- I HATE MY LIFE -- "..it's such a blessing to be in a position to help." WHY DID MY PARENTS EVER SEND ME HERE?! She crinkles her nose and squeezes Gigi's hand in return.
"I'll talk to Franky right away. I'm sure she has some ideas, seeing how she is much more embedded in the community than I am. Maybe I can get her to come along!" If Lala has to suffer, than Franklyn is going down with the ship as well.
Gigi drops the warm smile, and instead rolls her eyes, and gives a snort. "Save it for the interview, girly. I don't need the smell of that bullshit sticking in my nostrils," she says. She takes her hand back, then takes a big scoop of ice cream. "Believe Francine already does a good bit of charity work at her theater. Maybe you can ask if she can give you a job?" she asks, lifting a brow. Oh yes. Not only charity, but working for Franky. "Just a thought," she says. Then she takes that big bite, and then turns to slide out of the seat. "Got to get movin' on."
The talk of bullshit sticking to nostrils causes Lala to smirk and even though Gigi is sure to make her life a bit difficult, she has to respect the woman's style. The blonde gives her a nod as recommends volunteering in Franky's theater and then slides out of the booth: "I'll do that, Aunt G. See ya' around."
Picking up her phone again, she eases back into a slouch as she returns to browsing her Instagram feed. A quick text is fired off as well, likely bemoaning the fact that she is going to have to do something resembling work soon.
bummer.
i know, right? FML
"Keep outta trouble," is the last thing Gigi says, before she turns and heads off.
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