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The town missed Moira Rose more than anyone would like to admit, or even expected, really. At first, it was just odd and slightly disappointing to not see her inappropriate but still certainly right black and white outfits. Without her frills, tulle, sequins, and complicated, sometimes confusing, layers, the town seemed, well, boring. Not that the remaining Roses weren’t always attracting some sort of drama, but the absence of their mother was noticeable, and after years of her antics, the sudden repeal of it took some getting used to.
Soon, Alexis had left and David was the only Rose left. By then, everyone was far more antsy. The combined dramatics of David and Alexis never failed to conjure up memories of Moira, filling in the gap that she left. With the addition of Patrick and sometimes Stevie, they all put on quite the show that never failed to entertain.
Still, things grew considerably quieter after Alexis left. Not that everyone didn’t love David, but he was more subdued without the constant bickering - however loving it was - of his family.
Despite her insistence that Schitt’s Creek was a mere regretful pitstop in the unforeseen detour her life had taken all those years ago, Moira made her mark on the town, changing it for the better.
Jazzagals rehearsal was more productive, but the creative flair that only Moira could bring was lacking. Town Council meetings grew lackluster, leaving even Roland to stay on task. Twyla made her rounds through the tables at the Café much quicker, her conversations only lingering slightly. Everyone became more efficient.
No one liked that very much.
In fact, most people hated it. Jocelyn grew antsy, a little more tempered with her students. Gwen frequented her visits with her “internet friends” more than normal. Bob started to actually work on the cars that pulled up to his garage.
It wasn’t until Ronnie started to become amiable with Patrick that David had had it.
“This isn’t right!” David had said one day as Ronnie left the store after allowing Patrick to not only ring her up, but to help her shop, and actually thanked him without snarky comment.
“Ronnie being nice to me isn’t right?” Patrick asked, leaning his arms against the counter.
“No, it’s not! She’s never been nice to you! Honey, she practically hates you!” His voice pitched up, arms flailing wildly.
Not sure whether to be amused by his husband’s antics or offended by the implication of his words, Patrick just stared back at a very worked up David. “Maybe she’s starting to come around. It’s an awful long time to hold a grudge over something so petty.”
“Okay, no,” David’s index finger was raised, moving around in the air before pointing itself at Patrick’s face. “Ronnie doesn’t just come around . You deeply offended her and now you're on her bad side forever.”
“Forever’s a little dramatic, David.”
He brushed Patrick off with a flick of his hand and a huff of his breath, leaving to retrieve a box from the back to restock the candles.
It was a bit of a slow day, so Patrick took out his phone. A little while later, after David finished restocking the candles and left to go do inventory, the bell dinged above the doorway and Patrick looked up.
Jocelyn strolled in with a nervous grin that was just as loud as the kittens on her sweater. She has something to say, a favor to ask, and Patrick knew it.
Dreading what was to come, he spoke up, “Hi Jocelyn. How are you?”
“Oh good, good. You know, just shopping around .” She strode over to their skincare products, her movements slow and calculated. She obviously wasn’t here for their new shipment of toner.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Patrick asked, wincing as he did so; he knew nothing good could come from her answer, but he also didn’t want her nervously examining every single item all day. He’d rather rip it off like a band-aid and just find out what she wanted.
David appeared out from behind the curtain, placing a hand on Patrick’s shoulder as he assessed the situation. They looked at each other a moment, having some silent conversation that Jocelyn didn’t notice. Finally, David rolled his eyes. “Need any help over there?”
She perked up, seeing her opportunity to pounce. She took long strides so that she could at least be on the same side of the room as the two men.
They expected her to ask them if they could watch Rollie tonight, something she knew was last minute, but she was desperate and not-so-secretly wanted to entice them into wanting children of their own. Or, at least, she wanted some absurd discount on some wine or cheese for a party she and Roland were throwing that David and Patrick would not be invited to.
“Well,” she started slowly, “I did have an idea.”
The boys braced for what was about to come, David’s hand holding onto Patrick’s shoulder just a little tighter and Patrick falling back into his touch.
“Well, it’s just that everyone misses Moira so much, and the garden doesn’t really do her justice, so what if we, you know, renamed the store?” The words spilled out, and she eyed the two of them nervously, waiting for something, anything.
Both of their mouths had fallen open. While Patrick likes to think he can conceal much of what he feels, his wide eyes said otherwise. David, right beside him, looked like he had been hit by a wayward baseball, or like he caught Alexis stealing some of his moisturizer. His eyebrows were arched up near his hairline, his mouth completely agape.
Patrick recovered, but David was clearly still processing Jocelyn’s proposition. He closed his eyes, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry- are you suggesting we rebrand the store?” The disbelief was apparent in how he drew out the words.
Sensing David’s rising anger, albeit justified, he placed a steady hand on his back.
Jocelyn smiled, completely giddy. She nodded vigorously.
“And what, are you suggesting, we rename the store?”
“Moira Rose Apothecary!”
“Moira Rose Apothecary,” David repeated slowly, bowing his head to look at the floor.
He wasn’t yelling or fumbling through words, no, he was calculated, thinking through exactly what he wanted to say. When he wasn’t yelling at Jocelyn to leave the store immediately, Patrick grew very concerned. It was only when David was incredibly, irreparably mad that he grew quiet like this. Patrick wasn’t sure what to expect from David next, and he really didn’t want to find out.
“How about we’ll get back to you about that, Jocelyn?” To keep David from whatever retort was about to come out of his mouth, he squeezed his waist. David rolled his eyes.
“Okay, well, you boys just let me know!” Jocelyn replied, clearly not sensing any of the current tension. “I’ve already started drafting up some fun new logos.”
“Oh! Did you now?” David said, not without a hint of sarcasm.
They watched Jocelyn leave, and as soon as she rounded the corner David turned to Patrick. “What the fuck was that?”
Patrick shook his head, still not believing that entire conversation happened.
“I have no idea.” He drew his arms around David, pulling him close. David wrapped his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, resting his face against Patrick’s.
“We’re not renaming the store, though, right?” David whispered, the thought too much to bear.
“No, God no.”
David nodded. “Good, good.” He buried himself deeper into Patrick’s shoulder.
Much to David’s dismay, his husband started laughing. He pulled back. “This isn’t funny.”
Patrick grinned. “It is a little funny.”
David started shaking his head again.
“Maybe I should text her, just to get a look at those new logos. ‘Moira Rose Apothecary’ does have a nice ring to it. It even matches ‘Twyla’s Café Tropical’. You know, David, I think it would be a great way to honor your mom and all that she’s done for the town.”
“Unbelievable . We’re getting a divorce.” David untangled himself from his husband and retreated to the back room to continue working.
“Okay, love. Just send me the papers.” Then, after a moment, “I get the cookware.”
David peaks his head back out into the main floor. “Mhmm, just not the slow cooker your mom gave us.”
“Sounds fair,” he replied with a smile.
David shot him a lopsided smile, shaking head as he leaned in the doorway. “You’re too cute, Brewer. How am I supposed to divorce you now?” The fondness in his voice was unquestionable.
Patrick cocked his head to the side, a knowing smile growing on his lips. “I’m sure you’ll manage”
David shook his head once again, muttering something about his cute husband as he retreated back behind the wall, apparently forgetting the horrifying events of just moments ago.