Chapter Text
Beard hummed quietly to himself as he stared at his little TV, not particularly interested in its contents but needing something to preoccupy himself.
Early Wednesday afternoons were, by all means, a little boring. He'd had a few customers earlier that day, mostly before and around lunch time, from regulars who stopped by to grab something a little extra to go with their meals. But he hadn't seen much activity since, knowing that it'd likely remain that way until around 3 pm, since that was when kids from the local high school got out for the day.
No point in restocking shelves, he'd already done that before the store had opened. Wasn't really anyone he could talk to either; he only had one other employee (Dave) who usually took over for the night shift from about 5 pm to 12 am, give or take an hour, and though the store had been doing relatively well lately, he didn't really have an incentive to open position for a new hire since he and Dave had been getting along well with just the two of them.
Though he supposed it'd be nice to have someone around on call in case either of them weren't available for their shifts, for whatever reason. Their current system, as it was, was just for one person to take both shifts if either of them had to call off, and though it didn't happen often, working for a whole 14 hours was never really ideal, even with the added pay that came from overtime...
Suddenly, the phone he kept on the counter began to ring, silently relieved that he'd finally been given some sort of task. Worrying about the prospects of a new hire would be a problem for later Beard.
He braced himself as he picked up the receiver, a somewhat forced smile coming to his face as he went into customer service mode.
"Aloha Convenience in Upper Fillmore, how may I help you?" he said cheerily, confused by the momentary silence he was met with.
"Hello? Anyone there?" he said as a follow up, met with a nervous cough that even through the telephone, Beard could recognize.
"Oh, hey Jacket! What's going on, man?" he said, his smile relaxing into one that was more genuine as he leaned back in his seat. There was another pause before Beard could hear the inklings of mumbling from the other end, squinting as he tried to decipher them.
"Sorry, bud, but you're gonna need to speak up," he said gently, knowing how difficult it was for Jacket to articulate things sometimes. He heard the other man taking in a deep breath before trying again, words only just about discernible now.
"...You wanna come to San Francisco? At the end of the month?"
An affirmatory hum rang over the receiver.
"Shit– fuck, yeah dude, of course! I'd be more than happy to see you! Any idea exactly when?"
Mumbling.
"Not yet, huh? Well, let me know when you get your plane tickets so I can pick you up from the airport! You can also crash at my place if you want, so you don't gotta blow a bunch of money on a hotel."
Jacket started protesting, saying how he didn't want to be a bother.
"Bullshit, my house is your house, dude. If you genuinely wanna stay in another place, then that's cool, but you’re always welcome to crash in my apartment."
Jacket paused before saying he'd think about it.
"Offer's always open, man. Sure your girlfriend won't mind, though? Or is she coming with? 'cause it might be a little cramped if she is, heheh."
Another pause, longer this time, preceded by a few quiet mumbles. The corners of Beard's mouth turned downwards, sitting up straighter in his chair.
"Sorry to hear about that. Things like that are never easy."
Jacket agreed. Admittedly, he didn't sound as upset about it as Beard thought he'd be but he also knew that emotions weren't always Jacket's best friend.
Jacket said another few words.
"Well, yeah..."
A pause.
"You know what they say. Time heals all wounds."
Jacket muttered something quietly.
"Right."
Another pause. Beard racked his mind for something to say, anything to distract Jacket from the subject at hand. He shifted in his chair, changing the phone to the other ear before he finally came up with something.
"So, you remember that photo I talked about, from Hawai'i?"
Of course.
"Did you ever get around to sending me a copy of it?"
A pause, followed by a noise of disagreement.
"Right, well, whenever you get a chance, man. Hell, maybe we can even get it copied while you're here if you remember to bring it!"
Jacket said that'd be nice.
Suddenly, the bell above the door to the store jingled as a small group of chatting teenagers filed their way in, Beard looking at the digital clock on his counter to see that it was already about 2:45. Must've gotten out early.
"Hey man, I'm gonna have to go, it's almost rush hour for the store. I'll call you back tonight, though, if you're not busy!"
Jacket said he wouldn't be.
"Sweet. See you later, then!" Beard smiled as he placed down the receiver, shifting his attention to the group of kids that had just entered.
Two of them were currently sifting through the aisles for something to grab while the other two hovered around the slushy machine, a fact that amused Beard considering that it was only around 58°F outside.
These kids were regulars; a group of what he assumed to be sophomores and juniors. He'd only caught their names in passing– and even then, he still wasn't entirely sure which was which– but they came in as a group every Wednesday, always clearing out his supply of onion flavored kettle chips and grabbing either canned ice teas or slushies to wash them down with.
As they came down to the counter with their haul for the day, he could see that today was no different, scanning over the pile they'd offered to him as he totaled their purchase, making sure to include the 4 large slushies of various flavors they'd placed down.
"You kids sure love these things, huh?" he said amusedly as he counted around 7 bags of chips for the four of them, all of them grinning amongst themselves as they shrugged. Guilty as charged.
"You're the only place in town that actually has them all the time, Lieutenant!" one of them piped up, Beard smiling fondly at the nickname he'd received from some of his locals on account of his time in Hawai'i.
"Kind of have to since you guys keep buying so many of them. Not that that's a bad thing or anything," he teased, reaching under the counter to grab a plastic bag to put their chips in (as well as the one or two bags of candy they'd added this time as well).
After looking at the price, all four of them rummaged through their pockets as they counted up their dollar bills and loose change, arguing with each other over how much exactly they needed to cough up.
Beard watched on in amusement as they continued to bicker, waving in the next few customers who walked in through the door.
Even as they finally pushed forward the total amount of money they needed, he still felt giddy over the call he and Jacket had had less than 30 minutes ago, smiling to himself as he counted their money as quickly as he could so he could wave them out and away.
Though it'd only been about half a year, he missed Jacket dearly and his last real memories of being with him weren't exactly the happiest ones. They mostly consisted of him sitting restlessly by Jacket's hospital bed, the both of them standing silently together at Barnes and Daniels' funeral, and of the both of them at Honolulu International Airport, holding onto each other as tears blurred their visions and they prepared to be separated by thousands of miles after having been together almost every single day for years.
The prospects of seeing him again made Beard damn near ready to yell out in joy, but with the sudden influx of customers, he knew his celebrations would have to wait until Dave came in for his shift later that afternoon. So he kept himself occupied with small talk and number crunching, and if his customers noticed he was a little more upbeat than he normally was that afternoon...
...Well that wasn't any of their business, now was it?