Chapter Text
Miss Ophelia Wills wasn’t surprised by the red F-150 outside of Clyde Logan’s single-wide trailer home though she did take in all the details - it was her job after all. The truck looked like it had seen better days but was clearly kept in running order and likely maintained by Mr. Logan himself. A glance in the driver’s side window revealed an empty can of pop (probably from before his current incarceration) but no beer or other indicators of drunk driving. There were a few small tools in the passenger seat, some of which were probably Miss Logan’s as Ophelia didn’t think Mr. Logan had developed a sudden interest in hair curlers.
”You with the vets group,” the aforementioned Miss Logan had stepped out of the simple trailer and was eying the other woman. They’d told Mellie what time to expect Miss Wills and outlined what the woman would be looking for, what type of questions she’d be asking and what group was gonna do for Clyde. All things considered, Mellie knew Clyde didn’t need the help, per say. But, at the same time, it’d been a piece since any of them heard from Jimmy and well… Hope for the best, plan for a shitstorm.
“Yes ma’am, I’m with Social Re-Entry for Veterans,” bits of gravel crunched under Ophelia’s shoe as she made her way towards the small porch and extended her hand in greeting. The trailer, much like the truck, was showing its age. More importantly, to her anyway, were the signs of repair. The various home done repairs weren’t professional but they were functional and tidy, clearly done by someone who either knew what they were doing or bothered to figure it out.
“Huh. Figured you’d be older. New around here?” Mellie shook the other woman’s hand and didn’t exactly hide that she was sizing this Miss Wills up. While Mellie wore a black net type top over a neon purple bra with jeans, Ophelia had on the most nondescript suit Mellie’d ever seen. It was honestly impressive, in a horrible sort of way.
“Mmhmm, moved here a bit ago with my daughter.” Ophelia smiled. The question was exhausting the sheer number of times she’d had to repeat the tale since coming to Boone county. Being a new face in a small county meant a lot inquiries and not all of them were good-intentioned. The group had warned her though, when Ophelia applied for and took the position, and she had no regrets. Daisy deserved a fresh start, they both did.
”Well, com’on in. This is more-or-less how he left it. I did a little cleanin’ just to make sure trash got taken out, did the dirty dishes, that sorta thing,” the brunette led Ophelia in and gestured around to the trailer. This was all true, of course, the siblings couldn’t be sure how long Clyde would be in jail so Mellie’d agreed to keep an eye on everything while Jimmy was doin’… whatever the fuck he was doin’. Mellie was trying to not get annoyed.
”That’s sweet, are you two close?” The trailer was simply decorated, if one could call it decorated. There were a few knicknacks and such from their parents, mementos of growin’ up and family pictures, that sort of thing. Clyde’d hung a horseshoe over the main door, facing up to try and collect as much luck as possible. The most colorful area of the trailer was probably the fridge door, which had a number of drawings held up with dollar store magnets and tape. Ophelia smiled when she noticed that particular detail.
”Logans stick together,” Mellie eyed the other woman for a moment before adding, “Those are Sadie’s, Jimmy’s kid. Clyde does real good with her. Likes kids.”
”Oh? That sort of thing never makes the file, does it?” Ophelia chuckled and pulled a small notebook from her purse, jotting the information down. Maybe Mr. Logan would like getting involved in a kids sports team, something that would help him build community relationships? There are always teams that need coaches or assistant coaches.
“We’re used to it,” she shrugged but Mellie was watching the other woman curiously. “You gonna be the one visiting him?”
“Most likely, unless you think he’d be more comfortable with someone else. We don’t have a lot of options, but I might be able to -“
”Nah, just askin’ cause he’s been through a bit. Lookin’ after him.” Mellie shrugged nonchalantly before gesturing towards the living room, “he doesn’t spend a lotta time at home. He’s mostly at The Duck Tape.”
”That was in the notes,” Ophelia laughed as she looked around. There really wasn’t a lot. A small, somewhat beat up bookshelf had some novels that were fairly typical; a handful of standard issue ‘so you’ve been discharged, now what’ books that he’d probably been given while recovering from his amputation, a number of popular murder mystery novels, and several books on the history of spirits and cocktails which was more Ophelia had expected. The bottom shelf was devoted to coloring books and stories of princesses, which Ophelia found herself crouching to admire. There were also a bunch of stickers on the bookcase itself, likely from the family princess!
”So… why you involved in this stay outta jail group, ‘specially out here?”
”Long story but my brother served and had trouble,” the redhead actually chuckled a little as she stood, as though caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Came out to do some good.”
”Divorce?” Mellie leaned over the kitchen counter as she asked, not particularly believing that the woman came out to the middle of nowhere just to be a do-gooder.
”Never married but… yes. Good guess.” Ophelia chuckled dryly. Hoping to change the topic, she nodded towards a closed door, “Is that the bedroom?”
”Yes ma’am, go on in.” Anything that needed hiding had already been hidden, save any skin mags of Clyde’s. If any of that was in there, Mellie didn’t know and didn’t want to know thankyouverymuch.
“Thanks,” though stepping into the room rather felt like dodging a bullet. She was there to talk about Mr. Logan and how the Logan family could help him, not her own failed romances! The bedroom was as tidy and sparse as the rest of the trailer, with laundry thrown in the hamper, a bed frame that looked like Clyde had probably been sleeping on it most of his life (there were crayon marks on one of the legs). There was a book by the bed, escapist fantasy, with a receipt used as a bookmark and a small plant in the windowsill.
There was a lot you could tell about a person from their bedroom, and Ophelia liked this one. When she flipped back the covers, there was a soft, barely there scent that was warm and comforting. It made the empty bed feel lonely but at least its occupant would be returning soon. And she would do her very best to make sure that Clyde Logan never slept in a jailhouse cot again!
”This ain’t a date, Mellie,” Clyde fussed at his sister for the fifth time, at least, while she ran a brush through his hair against his will. He’d barely been out of jail for a full twenty-four hours and she was already pushing for him to meet this Miss Wills. Like he needed another organization pokin’ their nose into his affairs, tellin’ him how lucky he was to be alive, that he needed to make the most of his life and weren’t they just so ding-donged grateful for his service.
“It’s more important, gotta show the judge that we’re makin’ sure you stay on the right path. Go put on your good flannel - no the good one, Clyde!” Mellie fussed as she followed behind her brother and sprayed a bit of white foam into her hands. Then pounced as he bent to grab the cleanest flannel shirt he could find, completely immune to his glare while Mellie worked the product through his dark waves.
“You heard from Jimmy yet?” Clyde ducked his head out of his sister’s hands and eyed himself in the mirror. Same ol’ Clyde Logan as before he went to jail, nothin’ worth remarking on. When Mellie tried to close in again, he literally pushed her back with a slight rumble in his throat.
“Ain’t no point worryin’ about him right now, she’ll be here soon,” his sister waited until Clyde had looked down at the tiny buttons on his flannel, then spritzed him with a cologne that she seemed to sneak from out of nowhere. He was about to dress her down when Clyde heard a car pulling up and cussed under his breath. He didn’t want to have anything to do with this but Mellie was determined. Clyde let his sister do as she pleased for a moment, while he stepped over to a window to assess this new intruder into his life.
”…. Didn’t say she was a redhead.” Clyde’s fingers actually slipped on a button as Miss Ophelia Wills approached the porch steps.
”That matter?” Mellie smirked a bit as she ran a small comb through his goatee, shaping the slightly overgrown scruff on her brother’s face. Miss Wills was wearing the same sort of professional suit she’d had on before and Clyde’s eyes were following the sway of her hips.
“I like redheads,” he murmured softly and suddenly shifted to assess his appearance in the mirror much more seriously. Mellie cracked a smile at him in the reflective surface.
“Lemme get outta your hair,” she gave her brother a playful shove on his shoulder before stepping out of the bedroom and heading for the front door. Can never be certain of anything, especially out here and with a Logan man of all things, but Mellie liked the other woman. She didn’t know what Ophelia needed, but Clyde needed someone warm. Someone who didn’t believe in ‘Logan luck’. She opened the door and nodded for Ophelia to come in. “He’s gettin’ ready for ya. Been a bit since he dressed to impress.”
”There’s no need for formality, Mr. Logan,” Ophelia called out with a soft chuckle.
”Call ‘im Cyde. Trust me.” Mellie smirked again while she slipped past the other woman. She could hear Clyde walking out of the bedroom and didn’t want to be in the way of things.