The Park, Sunday afternoon

[whoisalicewhite]

Parker was in the Park. With Eliot. Earlier, she'd been up a tree (look, it was there, she had to climb it) but now she was down below it, just ... hanging out.

She kept wanting to bounce up, but there was FOOD to occupy her, so. That, and just kinda leaning into Eliot, or poking him, or playing with his fingers, was keeping her occupied. For

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[vdistinctive]

Between Parker and Val, who was prancing around in circles and occasionally remembering she was playing fetch, Eliot was exhausted just watching.

He finished setting out the fried chicken he'd made earlier -- a process made much longer by Val's regular attempts to snatch herself a piece when he wasn't looking -- and started pulling out some sides. And forks, since Parker had insisted on potato salad. "You want a beer, darlin'?" Val barked. Eliot gave her a look. "You know I ain't talkin' to you, yet."

[whoisalicewhite]

"Yes. And some of everything," Parker decided. "What did you put in the potato salad? And what did you bring for Val?" She stared upward through the leaves of the tree, and said, sounding vaguely surprised, "This is nice."

[vdistinctive]

"Mustard, champagne vinegar, some scallions and shallots," Eliot said, putting together a plate for her. "Val gets her usual. Just as soon as she finishes runnin' herself silly." He popped a couple beers open on the edge of the cooler and held one out for her. "I told you it'd be a good evening for it."

[whoisalicewhite]

"You did." Parker gave credit where it was due, and she'd been skeptical before coming out here. She took her beer and held it up to clink it against his. "Toooo.... doing nothing?"

Her mouth was already watering for the food, and leaning into Eliot again was nice. Or whatever the word for that was.