I Need A Dollar Dollar, A Dollar is What I Need (Kit)

"You know, no matter how bad things got, we've always been able to talk?" Clara spoke tersely over breakfast when, after ten minutes of silence, it was obvious Kit wasn't going to say a word. It had been over two months since they had properly spoken, and the tension between the two cohabitants of Harrington House had run longer than that. There had been a brief reprieve over Christmas when Mimosa had come over with her friend but it had only confirmed Clara's suspicion.

They truly were parents at this point, because nothing said parents like pretending all ways okay in front of the kids. Of all the things Clara had promised herself she wouldn't let Kit turn her into, a liar had been at the top of the list. And yet here they were, yet another silent meal, yet another pretense at reading the paper, yet another show for nobody's benefit because when all was said and down, it was just the two of them all over again.

Just as she'd seen all those years ago.

"What do you want me to say, Clara?"

"What you've been thinking since September."

"If you know what I'm thinking, why do you need to hear it?"

"I don't, you just need to say it."

For a moment, it really looked like he was going to say it. The psychic could almost see the gears and cogs in his brain turning, contemplating each outcome his words could induce, calculating the risk against the potential release of all his pent up anger and frustration.

And then, just as clearly, she saw him deflate, his eyes taking on a dull sheen as he gave up. Whatever he as about to say, he had clearly decided it wasn't worth it.

He was just as afraid of breaking them as she was. Because when all was said and down, it was just the two of them all over again.

"We'll go get Azalea this Friday," he finally managed, putting up a hand to stop her in whatever her answer would have been. He needn't have tried, Clara was too tired to argue now. And contrary to whatever the photographer might think, she missed her child as much as he did his.

Another five minutes of silence passed, Kit's eyes on the paper and Clara's on her juice, neither of which had been touched. The next time the silence was broken was by the doorbell chiming too loudly through the quiet house.

"I'll get it," Kit mumbled, taking any excuse to leave the table, his toast untouched but his second cup of coffee almost empty. Clara heard him amble his way through he living room to the door, getting up to clear the midday breakfast dishes. If there was ever a good time to give up on a meal, this was it.

The photographer on his part made his way to the door, unsure who would be coming at this time but used to unexpected visits. It certainly wasn't gong to be a certain Swedish Art Collector he knew. Janna Gerber had now joined the ranks of women in his past, but that was a story for another day.

The visitor may have not been Janna but it was a woman, as quickly revealed when Kit opened the door, a polite smile touching his face. His tousled hair showed obvious signs of just waking up despite is being closer to one than noon and his casual clothing implied he wasn't expecting company. Yet here they were.

'Can I help you?"

"I was hoping you might be able to, Mr Harrington. My name is Victoria Newbury, we met more than a decade ago through your daughter, Azalea."

The greeting, while polite enough by usual standards, let Kit now a number of things. This young woman definitely knew who she was looking for with the direct address, and her last name was ringing bells too. Had Kit not been in possession of a very clear memory of all the faces of the women he'd dallied with in the past, he'd almost place the tiny witch as one of his previous companions.

But no, the final bit of evidence sunk in when she mentioned Azalea's name.

"Azalea, is she alright?" the photographer asked, worry lines crowding his features as he held the door open for the visitor. Her name finally clicked, Newbury. "Did Jake send you? I swear to Merlin if anything's happened to Azalea-"

The man was cut off by the sound of footsteps encroaching upon them, Clara hurrying to his side because something was clearly wrong. Unlike him however, the witch had no problem identifying the visitor.

"Victoria, how lovely to see you," the psychic greeted a lot more warmly than Kit had, reaching over to shake Victoria's hand.
"We hope Azalea isn't being any trouble back home. Last we checked, she and Ivan were trying to build their most ambitious lego tower yet."

The raven haired witch ushered Victoria inside, directing her to one of the sofas. "Here have a seat, my it's been ages since I've seen you in person, you're all grown up."

Kit remained silent as Clara took up the burden of small talk, but the concern never eased once from his eyes. If a Newbury was here, something somewhere had gone wrong.

"How do you know of my nephew?"

It was times like these when Kit could appreciate the full scope of Clara's social aptitude. Where all he wanted was to cut the chit chat and get to the point, the psychic knew how to navigate around the situation better. He of course had not remembered the names of the Newbury children but Clara had, and of course it was coming in handy now.

"From Azzie of course," Clara answered without missing a beat. "I know Jake was worried about bringing her home last year but she's quite take to the children. As have they, little Adrienne hardly ever leaves her side. She's even on the phone when we talk to Azalea."

Kit would have tuned out then if he hadn't felt the older witch's glance on him. "Kit, phone please," Clara requested. t\The photographer complied, passing it to her. All their devices were hooked to recognize both of them so Clara was easily able to unlock it with her own face. The next thing he knew, she was scrolling through his gallery, holding out a picture of the Newburies recent Christmas do. Kit had seen the picture many times, Azalea with both kids wrapped around either side of her underneath the Christmas tree.

"Don't they look just adorable, they're fantastic kids," Clara continued her gushing, probably not understanding that they should be hurrying this along. Kit would give ehr two more minutes before he interrupted again.

"And how have you been lately, kiddo? We hear you're very important these days, important enough to be on TV at that."

"I... umm... I didn't know Azalea was staying with Jake."

"Oh yes,' Clara supplied at the younger witch's statement "We were just going to have her stay at our own place in Surrey but poor Jake as stretched so thin what with his jobs and the children and the holidays, he asked if he could just take her home. Everyone was worried at first but it turned out to be the best decision. She's better than she has been in months, and at least now your brother doesn't have to come stateside every week like he's been doing since last August."

It was at this time that Kit chose to interject, knowing how Clara's stories could go on forever. Clearing his throat politely, he waited for the two women to look his way before politely posing the question.

"So you didn't pay us a visit to discuss Azalea? She's alright?" Of course, form the little witch's baffled reactions, it was obvious but Kit preferred a verbal confirmation nonetheless. Of course, that would beg the question of why Victoria Newbury was here. Other than Azalea, the two families had absolutely nothing in common, the Newburies had made sure of that by disappearing off the face of the earth in 2013.

So what could have brought one to his doorstep now?