Chapter Text
The Mystic Grill was eerily quiet, unusual for a small town with limited hangout spots. But it wasn’t a normal day. The whole town seemed to be up at the Lockwood mansion to pay their respects. Considering how most people felt about Richard Lockwood, it was either out of a sense of propriety or plain old morbid curiosity—getting a peek at the grieving family and rifling through the bathroom cabinets to fuel more town gossip.
Mia Donovan found herself alone behind the bar, wiping down the counter for at least the tenth time that afternoon. She glanced at the clock, which barely seemed to have moved since the last time she looked. The silence was deafening, allowing her mind to wander to places she’d rather it didn’t.
Since yesterday, all she’d heard were whispers about a fire at the Founders Day celebration and the fallout from it. Her nephew Matt’s girlfriend, Caroline, had ended up in the hospital. As a mother herself, Mia knew Liz must be beside herself. And then, of course, there was the constant chatter about Richard Lockwood’s death. He might not have been well liked but he had been a prominent figure of the community, a death like that involving a founding family would get people talking.
The door creaked open, pulling her from her thoughts. Mia rolled her eyes as Damon Salvatore strolled in, looking perfectly at ease despite the sombre atmosphere. Even in the midst of a town tragedy, she could rely on him to prop the bar up. At least the register would see some cash passing through it from the steady stream of bourbon that would undoubtedly be poured.
“Who died?” Damon quipped, glancing around the empty room as he took a seat at the bar.
“That’s poor even for you,” Mia scoffed as she reached for a glass. “What can I get you?”
“Bourbon,” he said, sliding onto his usual stool. “I just left the wake. Thought I’d see what else is going on. Not much, it seems.”
Mia poured the drink and placed it in front of him. “Just me and Joe back there.”
Damon took a sip, watching her over the rim of his glass. “Speaking of the Lockwoods, have you heard anything about the mayor’s younger brother, Mason?”
Mia’s hand stilled for just a moment before she forced herself to continue wiping down the bar. “What about him?”
Damon shrugged, his demeanour casual as always but with an edge of curiosity in his eyes. “He turned up at the Lockwood’s. Interesting timing, considering no one’s seen or heard from him in years.”
Mia kept her expression neutral, though her mind raced. She had deliberately avoided thinking about Mason Lockwood. It had gotten easier over the years. No one talked about the black sheep of the Lockwood family, and he didn’t keep in touch. For most people, it was like he ceased to exist. Thoughts of him never fully left her, but she did everything she could to avoid sitting with them for too long.
“Guess he wanted to pay his respects,” Mia said, keeping her tone casual. “it was his brother”
Damon leaned back, swirling the bourbon in his glass. “True, but I’m curious about the guy. Wave chaser, off the grid for years, and now he’s back. Seems like there’s more to the story.”
Mia silently berated herself for not even considering that Mason would come back for his brother’s funeral. Not hearing from him in seven years, she had convinced herself that she never would again. She should have known better, but she had been so caught up in her own life. Between Grace, Betty, and the Grill, she didn’t have time to think about much else.
“I doubt it,” Mia said, hoping to change the subject. “He’ll probably be gone again before we know it.”
Damon tilted his head, studying her with those piercing blue eyes of his. “You’re not even a little curious about the mysterious Lockwood?”
Mia forced a smile. “I’ve got enough on my plate without worrying about what goes on in this town. And trust me, there’s nothing mysterious about Mason Lockwood. Don’t you ever get tired of being so suspicious of everyone you meet?”
“Mystic Falls is full of shady characters,” Damon said with a grin. “Can’t be too careful.”
“No one holds a candle to you,” Mia smiled, shaking her head. “And I think you’re just about safe from yourself.”
Damon seemed to let the conversation go. He took another sip of his drink, still watching her intently. Mia busied herself with tidying up, her mind racing with thoughts of Mason. She had no idea what he’d been doing all these years or how long he would be back. But one thing was certain: his return threatened to upset the carefully balanced life she had built for herself and Grace.
The door creaked open again, and Mia glanced up, half-expecting to see some high schoolers fed up with the sombre atmosphere at the Lockwood place. Instead, it was Jenna Gilbert with Grace in tow. Grace’s face lit up when she saw her mother, and Mia felt her worries drift away. One look at that smiling face and her heart melted every single time.
“Mommy!” Grace called out, running toward the bar.
Mia leaned over to scoop Grace up into her arms, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek. “Hey there, Angel girl. Did you have fun with Grandma Betty?”
Grace nodded enthusiastically, her small arms wrapping around Mia’s neck. “We played games and made cookies!”
Jenna smiled, setting Grace’s backpack down on a nearby stool. “I thought I’d pick her up on my way back. Give Betty a rest and save you a trip.”
“Thanks, Jenna,” Mia said as she held Grace close. “I appreciate it.”
Mia didn’t know what she would do without Betty Fell. With her sharp tongue and no-nonsense attitude, Betty was an intimidating figure. When Mia had approached the Historical Society for a paper her freshman year, she’d realized that Betty wasn’t quite as scary as she let everyone believe. They had grown close over the years, like family. But Mia was painfully aware that Betty was getting older, and her six-year-old was a handful.
“Did you hear?” Jenna asked, not needing to clarify what she was asking.
Mia nodded as she set Grace back down. She watched her little girl dig into her bag and pull out her crayons and paper. Grace sat down at an empty table, her little legs swinging back and forth on the chair. So content, a smile ever-present on her little face. Mia’s heart ached for her, even if she was blissfully unaware. Questions about her father were starting now that she was in school. Mia struggled to talk about it. She couldn’t wrap her head around how anyone could not want to be in her life, not even acknowledge her existence.
Realizing that both Damon and Jenna were watching her—Damon with his probing stare and Jenna with a hint of pity—she cleared her throat to break the silence.
“You know what, baby girl?” she said brightly, running a hand through Grace’s ponytail. “It’s so quiet here I’m going to ask Joe if I can finish early, and we can go watch a movie. How does that sound?”
“Can it be Princess and the Frog?” Grace asked, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes.
“Again?” Damon asked with an exaggerated gasp. “Even I know you’ve watched that five times this week.”
“Six,” Grace corrected him with a grin. “It’s my favourite.”
“Whatever you want, sweetie,” Mia said, kissing her head.
She smiled as Damon sat down beside her daughter, Jenna on the other side. With a rare genuine smile on his face, he looked interested as Grace told him all about her day and what she was drawing. Knowing Grace was safe with Jenna, Mia made her way to the back to find Joe. The Grill was a ghost town, and all she wanted to do was go home with her little girl. She would watch Princess and the Frog another fifty times this week if it meant they could hole up at home and pretend that Mason Lockwood hadn’t returned to town. She knew she’d have to prepare to bump into him—Mystic Falls was the size of a postage stamp, after all. But until she could sort out the swirling mess of thoughts and emotions she could barely make sense of, she wanted to do what any well-adjusted adult would do: just ignore it.