Work Text:
Eddie was a charming, hardworking man. That much was perfectly clear in the time that you'd been in Home. He was always up, always moving. Doing his job dutifully and helping whenever he was beckoned from his route. You'd seen him lift bags of soil for Frank, hold up backgrounds and props for Sally's plays (if not take a role in them directly, take over Howdy's deliveries, do little tasks for Poppy that she could not do herself, and tolerate Barnaby's interruptions with the patience of a saint. All of this with a "thanks" being few and far between. You tried your best to thank him on behalf of others, to which he would wave it off. Saying he was "just doing what anyone would" which was quite obviously not always the truth.
But you'd let him refuse your thanks, your attempts at getting him inside for some tea or lemonade. For cookies of a meal. There had only been a handful of instances in which he accepted, and it was always late in the evening once his work day had ceased. The ethic would have been valiant.
If you couldn't see the effect it had on him.
Maybe no one else noticed-- you hoped as such. It would be worse if they noticed and didn't care. You were sure that wasn't the case, though. Many of your neighbours had their heads in the clouds, or eyes on the ground. It was probably innocent.
The door to the post office opened smoothly, a burst of cooler air hitting your face as you walked inside. It slipped closed silently, fitting in its frame just so. The post office had a simple little lobby, with a colourful tiled floor and a couple of standing, rotating card displays near the front. To the back there were a few multi-leveled display shelves with a variety of craft supplies tucked in them, all neat and organized.
It took only a dozen steps to meet with the front counter, where stamps and collectable coins were set out on either end and some half-assembled crafts sat splayed across it. Eddie was not visible, but you knew he had to be here. If he wasn't out delivering the mail or caught up in helping one of the neighbours, he was here in his post office. That's simply how it was.
There were two doors against the back wall; one led to the mail room, the other to Eddie's office. The door to the latter was ajar, allowing you to see inside the dark, but warmly-lit room. You could see his crisp mail hat hung up on the rack next to his heavier outer coat. The former's door was shut, as it usually was. Eddie was serious about keeping it always locked and secured, whether he was in or out. You remembered him saying it was a "personal policy" of his; which, considering every post office you'd gone to before had it open during their open hours, seemed legitimate.
"Hello?" you called out, placing your fingers gently on the counter.
"Ope!"
You heard the muffled exclamation from deeper in the post office-- behind the mail room door, as suspected. A handful of seconds later Eddie emerged form the back, holding a stack of cards and envelopes in a tray that he perched on his hip.
"Hello and good afternoon, neighbour! Wondered why my nose was itchin'!" Eddie said, chuckling as he rubbed a finger under his nose. His eyes flicked over your person, likely noticing you held nothing in your hands. Nonetheless, he nodded at you.
"What can I do for ya? There a letter, package, or parcel ya wanna check on?"
"... No." you said. Eddie blinked, surprise flickering over his face before his smile returned. Weaker than before.
"Oh! Well..." he shuffled, awkwardly, clearing his throat before adjusting his tie with his free hand.
"Just, ah- just visiting lil ol' me?" he asked as he ambled over to one of the rotating card displays. He positioned himself to face you as he fiddled with the cards and envelopes in the tray, picking them up one by one and tucking them into the holder with the same design held in it.
"Yep." you nodded, and to that Eddie seemed to fluster even more. He clicked his tongue, letting out a nervous chuckle.
"Well... Well! How've you been then?" he asked, pushing the display a little to the left.
"I've been okay," you replied, tapping your fingers on the counter silently,"and yourself?"
"Fine as a frog hair 'n not half as slick!" he said, giving you a wink at the end. You smiled, despite yourself, and watched as he continued stocking the display.
"You sure?" you asked.
Eddie paused for a moment, brow furrowing as he looked at you in a confused way.
"... Yep?" he replied. You tilted your head pressing your lips into a thin line.
"I... It's just... I've been noticing you looking like you've been in pain. Recently."
It was subtle, but you'd seen how his brow creased, how his face twinged in pain as he hefted the soil bags onto his shoulder, only to mask it with a grin as Frank turned around. How he'd lean more than just his hands on the props he'd hold up for Sally, shifting his grip with a grimace. How his arms would shake when Howdy piled boxes into them, how his smile went pinched as he aided Poppy. How his usually swift jog would falter, his face squinching as he tried to boost his speed. Barnaby had been gaining on him, nipping at the poor man's heels more often.
Eddie hid it well, but not well enough from you.
He went tense as you spoke, face freezing before carefully smoothing over into mild chagrin.
"Naw, ain't nothin' like that going on with me! I've just been busier than a moth in a mitten! Part 'a the season, you know."
You tried to give him a sympathetic look, but that just seemed to make him stand straighter. Square his shoulders and give you the best smile he could.
"You do a lot more than just work, though. You're always out and helping. Doesn't that-- isn't that tiring?"
Eddie started shaking his head before you had even finished talking.
"It's funner than a sack full of kittens! Helping y'all is why I wake up in the morning!"
You frowned at that phrasing, and for a moment Eddie faltered.
"I-I wake up for other things too!" he said, looking down at the tray before walking over to the mail room. The keys on his hip jangled as he fiddled with them.
"'Scuse me for a sec there, bud."
He unlocked the door and disappeared behind it. You inhaled through your teeth and crossed your arms, deciding to wait for him to come out.
He only took a few minutes out back, but at that point you felt that being more direct would be a better option. Especially as he emerged with a bottle of glue in his hand, sitting down on the stool behind the counter before picking up one of the half-finished crafts.
"Been working on these on and off for a while. Think they look good so far?" he asked you. You nodded, arms still crossed, and he put the craft back down with a small frown that quickly cleared into something more pleasant. He picked up a pair of scissors.
"Well, if there ain't nothing else--"
Eddie fiddled with the scissors and then dropped them with a hiss of pain, pulling his fingers out of the handle and clasping one hand with the other. You startled at the sound, watching his expression go ashamed and then chagrined once more.
"Oops! Squeezed it the wrong way! Haha..."
You weren't fooled.
"Eddie..."
You reached out, clasping one of his hands in both of yours. His felt was worn, smooth and pressed tight to itself. Gently, you compressed his hand in your palms, squeezing slowly. It flattened so, so much more than it should have. Not firm like it should be-- giving easily under the pressure of your hands. You saw Eddie wince in the corner of your eye, tugging himself out of your grip with a quickness. He shook his arm out, the felt quickly filling back to perceived puffiness.
"It ain't that bad, really." he scoffed, tucking that hand under his other.
"Eddie..." you said sternly, putting your hands on your hips.
"I know what understuffing is."
He seemed surprised that you did, eyebrows jumping and eyes widening before he furrowed them and looked away.
"Well that's nice, but I don't got that sorta problem. It's just a piddlin'. It'll sort itself out."
You shook your head.
"Listen, as your friend, I think you should be gentler on yourself."
"I'm gentle! I'm plumb gentle!" he replied, almost frantically.
"You aren't. Really, when's the last time you took a day off since Homewarming?"
It was an innocuous question-- you assumed it was an innocuous question. But once you said it, Eddie's demeanour totally changed. His felt tightened and his pupils shrank, looking up at you with an expression that bordered on incredulous, with a touch of fear.
"A day off?" Eddie sputtered for a few seconds.
"Wh- mail never takes a day off, yanno! That was a one off an- an' people gotta get what they're waiting for!"
"No one here would mind if their mail's a day late, Eddie. I think they'd care more that you don't wear yourself out."
"Well that ain't what's happening!"
"Really?" you raised an eyebrow, and Eddie scowled. He flung his hands out violently, so suddenly you found yourself flinching a little.
"Y-y-you go on an' tell Howdy to take a day off, and I'll follow then!"
"I'm not talking to Howdy, I'm talking to you. You do great work, Eddie, I just want you to be happy."
"I am happy!" he stressed, voice dropping into a frustrated rumble before he took a calming breath.
"I. Am happy. I do this cause I like it, and if I didn't then, well, I'd have to do something. Can't let people think I ain't hit a lick at a snake in years!"
You had no idea what that meant, but Eddie wasn't done.
"It's what I'm good at. What I'm good for. If I had my druthers, ya know, I'd be going along exactly as I am now. I'm busy as a cat on a hot tin roof cause I like to be, don't matter if I feel pecked by a hundred chickens. Means I'm doing something right by myself and you folks."
You felt a pit grow in your stomach as he talked, as lines appeared around his eyes. As he panted for breath, even though he wasn't speaking fast or much at all. Like he was panicked.
"I wouldn't think less of you." you said. He tried to give you a weak smile. It was hollow.
"I know. And I hear ya, I promise I do. But this ain't my first rodeo. I know what I'm doing, an' I'm gonna do it well. Never been worn slap out yet, and I ain't gonna be. It'll all come out in the wash."
He nodded, firmly, and you felt wrong. Bad. Like you hadn't made a dent. Convincing Eddie to take a break was like speaking to a brick wall.
You just stood there, hands curled in fists, staring him down until he couldn't look at you anymore. Eyes dropping to the crafts. He sighed as he picked a project up again.
"You're a right peach, bud. I appreciate you lookin' out for me. But I'm fine."
Eddie started working again, slowly, as you stood there. Keeping his eyes firmly on the work in front of him.
You wanted to help him. You wanted him to take a break. But how could you help if he rejected the premise entirely? If he dug his heels in and ignored the obvious pain he was in?
You watched him wince, trying to make the scissors work. Forcing them into his palm, cutting paper stubbornly even as it hurt. As his stuffing moved around.
No amount of arguing would change his mind. As awful as it felt, you had to let it be.
"Okay." you said, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay. You turned around and began walking out.
"Take care." he called out as you opened the door.
"You too." you replied.
Wiping your eyes as you left.