If It Worries You

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Where: Caldecott Home

When: August 12, 2012

What: Caldecott and Timothy talk of the younger Caldecott son. Everyone texts these days, right?

The older Caldecott son lets himself into the house, ostensibly coming for one of his boxes of books that didn't get taken when he had the movers to move his stuff. But he doesn't head for the garage. Instead, he looks around, first going for the living room in search of his father. This afternoon, Timothy's dressed casually, dark jeans and a pale yellow teeshirt in a colour that could almost be called delicate.

There's a game, some game, on. And that's where the Mayor can be found with his glasses on and watching the olympics on the television. That he occasionally yells at the television could be the reason that Tim's mother is nowhere to be found. Not wanting to deal with the noise. But then again, the house is very vast.

Timothy pauses in the doorway of the living room. "Hey, Dad," the greeting is offered. A few minutes later, he returns, having come from the kitchen and with a glass of water in hand, and then moves over to sit down on the couch. He waits, further, for it to be time for a commercial break, to interrupt. "Question for you…" Timothy pauses, but wastes no time really in getting to the point. "Have you heard from Alexander at all, recently? He moved in with me, but I haven't seen him in almost two weeks. Not even a message."

"He's off with Rylie. She took vacation. She's supposed to be back in a few days. He sent a message the other day to my phone" Caldecott is fishing around for his beer, looking over to his other son. "Never texted you?" Everyone texts these days yes?.

Tim rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his water, before setting it down on the sidetable. "Never texted me, no note, nothing like that. But alright, if that's the case, good. Was mostly worried that he'd gone off and gotten himself in some sort of trouble, or such." Timothy shrugs, after that.

"I can… inquire with sources, see if they've heard anything" Like that last time, when he and Rylie got kidnapped. "But Rylie said she was taking off for a vacation, would likely have no cell service" Because the 1955's are shitty for cell service. "If it worries you that much" But it's not the first time that Zan's just up and left at any given time.

There's a pause, and considering. "It's alright," Timothy says, attention turning to watching the Olympics on the television for a moment, though there's no particular expression one way or the other, as far as his feelings for the sport. "I'd appreciate it. I didn't set too many hard limits on him, other than that he needed to keep the damn camera off in my damn apartment, but really, he could have texted. Or left a note. Or something. Supposed to be back in a few days, I'll worry next week."

"I'll put in some calls, see what I can dig up." The mayor promises and placates his son, even if at the same time, in his mind, there is that niggle of worry. "Staying around for dinner or have a date?"

Timothy shakes his head. "Not staying around for dinner, sorry. And no, I don't have a date." Is said with an almost bemused tone. "I have some work at home left to do that needs to be done for the morning. I'll come for dinner Tuesday?" is offered, placating in turn. "Or Wednesday, or what works for you and Mom."

"Just let your mother know. now, get going, I want to watch my game" There's a squeeze of Tim's shoulder attention diverting from his eldest, to his television as NBC stops commercials and returns to a game that played many hours later.

Timothy nods as he gets to his feet. "Alright. Seeya, Dad," is the response, before Tim does in fact go to let his mother know, leave his father alone, and get the boxes that he had planned to. "Call me, let me know when for dinner."


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