Back to the purse.Her fingers were getting familiar with the process now, sorting through the warmth and knowledge of each seed.
Cup and saucer vine.
She almost laughed."Of course there is."
She planted it inside this time, near the counter where the gourd plant's stem was already crumbling away."Grow."
The vine climbed up the wall, delicate and pretty.Heart-shaped leaves unfurled.And then, growing from the stems like flowers, perfect teacups appeared.Each one had a matching saucer beneath it, the two pieces growing together.
They were beautiful—floral patterns in blue and white, delicate handles, thin enough to be almost translucent.She plucked one set free and turned it over in her hands.It felt like real porcelain, cool and smooth."This is insane," she whispered."This is completely insane."But she was smiling.
Now she needed the tea itself.And probably a teapot, come to think of it.
Tea tree.
The seed felt...warm and comforting.She took it outside—the rain had stopped completely now, just gray clouds overhead—and planted it near her growing collection.The tree grew quickly, branches spreading.And hanging from those branches—
Teapots.
Ceramic teapots in different colors and patterns, each one with steam rising gently from the spout.She reached for the nearest one—deep blue with white flowers—and carefully lifted it down.It was warm in her hands.She opened the lid and breathed in.
Asian pear green tea.The pot was already full of perfectly brewed Asian pear green tea, one of her favorites.This tree knew her.
"You havegotto be kidding me," she said, but she was grinning so wide her face hurt.She checked another pot.Jasmine green tea.Another—chamomile.Each pot contained a different flavor, already brewed and ready.
She carried the pear tea back inside, poured herself a cup in one of her new teacups, and took a sip.Perfect.Hot, fragrant, exactly the right strength.
She stood there in her silk nightgown and fleece slippers, wrapped in a magic blanket, drinking tea from a cup-and-saucer vine in a house grown from a pecan, and thought:This is my life now.
The thought should have scared her.Instead, she found herself thinking about what to grow next.
Her stomach growled again, loud and insistent.The milk and pecans had taken the edge off, but she needed real food.The eggs had been a disaster—she wasn't ready to try those again just yet.
Bread.If she had bread, she could at least make a meal of it with butter.Did she have butter?She sorted through seeds mentally, trying to think of plants with "butter" in the name.
Buttercup.
Oh.That might actually work.But first—bread.
Breadfruit.
The warmth was solid, sustaining.Exactly what she needed.
She took the seed outside.The sky was lighter now, proper morning gray instead of predawn darkness.The area around her treehouse was noticeably greener, the grass thick and healthy in an expanding circle.
She planted the breadfruit seed and stepped back."Grow."
The tree rose up, broader than the others.Large, lobed leaves spread wide.And then pods began to form—green, leafy pods that cradled something golden inside.The pods opened to reveal...Loaves of bread.Actual loaves, golden—brown and crusty, nestled in their leafy cradles like the world's most absurd harvest.
The smell hit her—warm, yeasty, like fresh—baked sourdough.Her mouth watered instantly.She reached up and carefully lifted one free.It was still warm, the crust crackling slightly under her fingers.She tore off a piece and took a bite.It was perfect, tangy sourdough, soft inside with a perfect crust.Better than any bread she'd ever bought.
"Breadfruit," she said around the mouthful."It's actual bread.From a fruit tree."She was definitely keeping this one close to the house.
Now.Butter.
She went back inside, still clutching the loaf, and pulled out the buttercup seed.This time she planted it near the window, where it would get light once the sun actually came out.
The plant grew up cheerful and bright.But instead of the typical yellow buttercup flowers she expected, it looked more like a daffodil, or trumpet-shaped blooms with a pronounced cup in the center.
