wally's lament.

[ 7 ]

⫸ Side note: this fan art is AMAAAZING I'm losing my mind

⫸——⫷

Wally was still in the kitchen when you returned from the bathroom. Your secret excursion into Wally's office went undetected.

About a couple hours later, after several rounds of Candy Land with Julie, Howdy, Sally and Barnaby (Julie begged Frank to play too, but he insisted on sitting out so he could paint another picture), Wally and Poppy came back with snacks. A plate of cookies sat in Poppy's feathered hands and Wally was offering chicken nuggets.

Childish food, yes, but delicious food. Nobody was ever too old for nuggets and cookies.

Playing Candy Land with the neighbors had been nice. They all asked easy questions that you could lie about. They asked where you were from — you said Michigan, the lie you told Wally yesterday. But mostly, it was easy for you to steer the conversation away from the topic of your past. They also talked a lot about themselves, which was quite nice.

Presently, you thanked Poppy, taking a cookie from her and munching on it. She had already done her rounds around the room with the cookies, so she huffed a satisfied sigh and set the plate down on the coffee table.

"Wonderful," Poppy said to herself. Then, she turned towards you and smiled, as if just remembering that you were there. "Oh! Tell me how you like the cookies. I'm trying a new recipe."

"They're delicious," you said through a mouthful. You swallowed. "Eddie told me you have a baking business! How's that going?"

"Oh, that?" she laughed, as if it was just some silly side project. "Yeah. It's been good. I've been getting a lot of sales."

"That's awesome!" you said. "I'm sure you deserve it. These cookies are amazing."

You were not lying. They were super good. She looked flustered at your compliment and smiled shyly.

Poppy began to talk about what she put in the cookies to make them so good. You listened, but also took a moment to glance around the room, looking for Wally. There. On the other side of the living room, Wally was talking to Julie and Barnaby. You took a couple more bites of your cookie, finishing it off.

"Look at them," Poppy whispered to you, evidently not talking about her cookie recipe anymore. "So cute, aren't they?"

"Hm?" you mumbled. "Who's cute?"

"Julie and Wally, of course."

You frowned at Poppy, then turned to look at Wally and Julie laughing about something that Barnaby had said. "Cute, as in...?"

Poppy's eyes widened, as though she realized something important. "Oh! I forgot you were still a touch new around here. Well, some of us think that Julie and Wally would make the perfect couple. They both insist that they only like each other as friends, but we don't think so."

"Ah, I see." You watched them. They would probably make a cute couple, actually. They were both attractive and charming. Julie had an easy way of making you feel comfortable, whereas Wally was always making you feel uneasy. Perhaps those two traits perfectly complimented each other when they were together. "Yeah, they probably would be a cute couple," you admitted.

"See? That's what I've been trying to tell Julie, but she won't listen."

"Just give it time," you said. "Relationships that are meant to be always find a way of happening."

When Poppy spoke again, her voice was lowered even quieter, as if she had an even more important secret to tell. "I think a relationship is brewing between Frank and Howdy, too," she said.

What was she, the town match-maker? "What makes you say that?" you asked, curious to learn more gossip. Truth be told, you were ready to head back to the motel about 30 seconds ago, but now that Wally was off talking to others and Poppy was entertaining you, you figured you could stay for a couple more minutes.

"Just the way they talk to each other. Look at them." You followed Poppy's eyes to the couch, where Frank was still painting. However, Frank kept getting distracted whenever Howdy spoke. Frank would smile contently at Howdy and respond before going back to his art. "It's like they're already in love."

You chuckled, internally agreeing with her. "You should offer them some wedding planning services. Oh, and you can bake them a nice wedding cake while you're at it!"

Poppy found this amusing and laughed loudly. "Oh wow, you're awesome. Charlie, was it? I heard Wally call you (Y/N) earlier and I got confused."

A touch of color rose to your cheeks. "Oh. No, that's not my name. It's Charlie."

"Aw, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. Charlie it is, then."

Thankfully, she did not dig any deeper into the details. She seemed like she would want to respect your wishes rather than dissect them. Eventually, she excused herself to clean up her dishes from baking in the kitchen.

Your painting had surely dried by now, so you walked over to your easel and plucked your painting from it. It was probably about time for you to leave.

As you were cleaning up some of your dirty paint brushes, Wally approached you. Fortunately, you saw him coming out of the corner of your eye, so you had a second to mentally prepare.

"Leaving so soon?" Wally asked you, noticing that you were cleaning up.

"So soon," was a stretch. It had been at least 2 hours. "Oh, yeah. I've gotta go home and make dinner and whatever," you said, shrugging at him.

Then, your gaze interlocked with his, and a chill speckled your skin. For a moment, it felt like your eyes were waltzing with his, dancing around all of the unspoken secrets between the two of you. Fear and curiosity and tension floated through the air, begging to suffocate you.

You swallowed. "I had a wonderful time though," you added.

"I'm glad to hear it, neighbor. I hope you'll meet me here again for dinner tomorrow. I wanted to treat you to some one-on-one time."

The invitation was so blunt that it nearly knocked the wind out of you. "Tomorrow?" you mustered, abash.

Wally was smiling, like always. "Yes. Are you... busy?"

"No, no. I mean, yes." You paused. Yes, you were busy tomorrow; you would be training for a job with Eddie at the post office. "I'm getting a job at the post office. Eddie offered it to me. I'm meeting him there at noon tomorrow."

For the briefest, most terrifying second, something dark flickered over Wally's face. A bolt of adrenaline stabbed your gut, as if your body was telling you to run, but then you realized that you probably imagined whatever the hell you thought you saw. The adrenaline faded away as quickly as it had come.

"That's okay," Wally said kindly. "I'll pick you up from the post office at 5 P.M.."

"I... okay," you said. Again, he was giving you an invite that felt more like a demand and less like a question. "Do you cook?"

"Oh yes, sometimes. I'm no master chef, but I'm sure I could make something you like. Um... what do you like?"

You slipped into thought for a moment. Not only were you considering what foods to name, but you were also debating how you could lie your way out of spending 'one-on-one time' with the man who knew your name and where you used to live after only a day of knowing you. It seemed futile. He would find a way to talk to you no matter what you did.

For a moment, you felt helpless. Then you remembered that Wally was still waiting for you to answer him. You said, "Pasta. Pizza. Sushi. Salad. Steak. Everything, I guess."

"Perfect. I'll whip up a delicious surprise for you," he said with a wink.

You chuckled. "Great. I look forward to it."

"As do I, (Y/N)," Wally said. His eyebrows cinched together as if to make a frown, but his smile never broke. "Apologies. I meant: as do I, Charlie."

⫸——⫷