04-26-2013, 08:09 AM
Sie sind besser als dieses!
You are better than this.
Helga came to be on the 4 To The Royal ranch after Emmett's dad's first stroke. Dishes became harder to clean, cooking became dangerous and doing laundry was next to impossible. If Tom Metzger, Emmett's older brother, hadn't demanded that Helga be allowed to stay and help, who knows what might of happened or how things could have turned out. Even after Tomas Metzger Sr. passed away, Helga stayed. She must have saw something in the broken youngest son that she recognized. A need for assistance that Fenrir are always too proud to request.
But now, as she cleaned up his mess and ranted about what a good man his father was, Emmett just shook his head and limped up the stairs of his home to his bedroom. His fingers moved across his cell phone and he eased back to sit on the bed.
"Tom? Yeah, no..what? No...everything's fine. Why do you think something's always wrong? Jesus Tomas. Look, just listen ok? Are you going to this Carey thing over in Castle Rock?" He rubbed at his useless leg, scowling in disapproval at the constant ache that filled up his bones.
"Oh right..yeah. No, I...no that's fine, no you don't have to go. I'll go ok? Go to the meeting. No, it's cool, I got it."
The phone is flipped shut.
There is no real thought put into what he might wear: military spec navy colored BDUs, black Wellco tactical boots and a dark loose sweater. His eyes don't even pass over his appearance in the long mirror hanging on the back of his bedroom door. He isn't too concerned with appearances.
The Metzger property is managed by Ulrich, not a Metzger but a Foerster - his dead mother's nephew. Ulrich is 3 years younger than Emmett but he's the kind of man you'd pay double wages to just to have them working for you. He drives, Emmett holds Helga's famous German Potato Salad. They talked about the ranch or this and that.
What they didn't talk about was how silly Emmett looked holding that large flower print bowl full of potato salad.
Ulrich climbs out of the truck and waits near the rear while Emmett climbs out with his cane and that bowl, refusing to let his cousin help him at all.
Emmett is on the tall side at 6' and a solid 220 pounds. His body has gotten softer than it has in twenty years, and his dark blonde hair is longer on top than his barber (and Helga) prefer. The beard he wears is neatly trimmed and ages him considerably, making him look every bit of his thirty five years. The limp he moves with is faint but noticeable, the cane he uses is even more so.
He approaches Sarah with a genuine smile and nods, handing over the potato salad and accepting a hug from the older woman in return. Yes, he's fine. Of course Tomas is doing well. Helga is ...well Helga. She leaves him soon after to go put the side dish away and Emmett drifts toward the girl at the keg, offers his best smile and nods toward her, "You should have a tip jar here." He says offhandedly to Nora while waiting for his share of whatever is in the keg she's serving from.
His eyes turn toward the festivities going on all around him and he doesn't even consider joining in. He'll stay only so long as not to be rude and then he'll quietly request that Ulrich give him a lift back home. His joy at life and birth had backed up inside of him, kept within by some essential clog and he saw no reason to free them just yet.
You are better than this.
Helga came to be on the 4 To The Royal ranch after Emmett's dad's first stroke. Dishes became harder to clean, cooking became dangerous and doing laundry was next to impossible. If Tom Metzger, Emmett's older brother, hadn't demanded that Helga be allowed to stay and help, who knows what might of happened or how things could have turned out. Even after Tomas Metzger Sr. passed away, Helga stayed. She must have saw something in the broken youngest son that she recognized. A need for assistance that Fenrir are always too proud to request.
But now, as she cleaned up his mess and ranted about what a good man his father was, Emmett just shook his head and limped up the stairs of his home to his bedroom. His fingers moved across his cell phone and he eased back to sit on the bed.
"Tom? Yeah, no..what? No...everything's fine. Why do you think something's always wrong? Jesus Tomas. Look, just listen ok? Are you going to this Carey thing over in Castle Rock?" He rubbed at his useless leg, scowling in disapproval at the constant ache that filled up his bones.
"Oh right..yeah. No, I...no that's fine, no you don't have to go. I'll go ok? Go to the meeting. No, it's cool, I got it."
The phone is flipped shut.
There is no real thought put into what he might wear: military spec navy colored BDUs, black Wellco tactical boots and a dark loose sweater. His eyes don't even pass over his appearance in the long mirror hanging on the back of his bedroom door. He isn't too concerned with appearances.
The Metzger property is managed by Ulrich, not a Metzger but a Foerster - his dead mother's nephew. Ulrich is 3 years younger than Emmett but he's the kind of man you'd pay double wages to just to have them working for you. He drives, Emmett holds Helga's famous German Potato Salad. They talked about the ranch or this and that.
What they didn't talk about was how silly Emmett looked holding that large flower print bowl full of potato salad.
Ulrich climbs out of the truck and waits near the rear while Emmett climbs out with his cane and that bowl, refusing to let his cousin help him at all.
Emmett is on the tall side at 6' and a solid 220 pounds. His body has gotten softer than it has in twenty years, and his dark blonde hair is longer on top than his barber (and Helga) prefer. The beard he wears is neatly trimmed and ages him considerably, making him look every bit of his thirty five years. The limp he moves with is faint but noticeable, the cane he uses is even more so.
He approaches Sarah with a genuine smile and nods, handing over the potato salad and accepting a hug from the older woman in return. Yes, he's fine. Of course Tomas is doing well. Helga is ...well Helga. She leaves him soon after to go put the side dish away and Emmett drifts toward the girl at the keg, offers his best smile and nods toward her, "You should have a tip jar here." He says offhandedly to Nora while waiting for his share of whatever is in the keg she's serving from.
His eyes turn toward the festivities going on all around him and he doesn't even consider joining in. He'll stay only so long as not to be rude and then he'll quietly request that Ulrich give him a lift back home. His joy at life and birth had backed up inside of him, kept within by some essential clog and he saw no reason to free them just yet.