Gransen’s enthusiasm, far from catching, only served to deepen the pit forming in Eunny’s stomach. His ideas had merit, probably, but resistance reared its head. Filled her with a sense of refusal. Because renovations, while needed, had a ring of permanence that left her itchy with a nameless guilt. When the café had been held together with little more than waxed canvas drapes and baling twine it was easy to convince herself that she could’ve packed up and moved on whenever she wanted. Because Song’s Scrap was a glorified popup, not a place that had put down roots and gathered a community. Those were things she didn’t—couldn’t—want anymore. Second chances were nice and all, but there were limits. Healers who caused egregious harm to their patients…
“I’ll think about it,” she said at last.
“Ok, but we—you—need to make some decisions soon,” Gransen said. “At least let me finish with the temporary weather-sealing. The Mighty Leaf needs it so they can finish repairing the loft.”
Auntie Yerina hadn’t said anything about that. Eunny bit back a sigh, nodding wearily instead. “Fine, but that’s it. The rest has to wait. I’m busy with this plant stuff.”
Gransen gave her a sidelong glance. “How are things with my boy?”
By the grace of the Goddess, Eunny’s step didn’t falter. She didn’t skip like some giddy fool, either. No looking back. Forward only. Plenty of time for some lighthearted fun before any of the mess that came with labels and decisions.
She returned Gransen’s look with a sly smile. “Oh, you know. Has he really not said anything?”
A long-suffering groan came in answer. “No, because he’s a gentleman.” His lips quirked up. “Olly has been very chipper of late, though. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Eunny hummed innocently in response.
“Making Papa Granse proud.” They stopped at a crossroads in the university’s courtyard. “My two favorite people make a beautiful couple. I do good work.”
“We aren’t— Wait, what do you think you did?”
“Please. We both know?—”
“We aren’t a couple. It’s not that serious, okay? We’re friends.”
“No, Olly wouldn’t just— He’s way too far gone to see this as a friends-with-benefits thing. You do know that, right?” Gransen eyed her with something akin to reproach.
“Yeah, well, we haven’t talked about it.” A flush rose in her cheeks. “We’re having fun. Can’t ask for more than that.”
Trunk came into view, a familiar, curly-haired head moving around just outside. Ollas looked up as the sound of their voices reached him.
“You could, if you wanted. Something holding you back?” A mischievous grin split Gransen’s face. “Want me to ask? Olly might be embarrassed, but I have no shame.”
“Get away from me.” Eunny shoved him. In a louder voice, she called out, “Hey, Nev!”
Gransen laughed, waving to the two of them before wandering off toward the Grove.
Ollas faced her, pleasure lighting his face. “Eunny.”
She stopped next to the wheelbarrow he’d parked alongside the now-empty patch that had held the delegation plants. A few carefully dug up plants lined the wheelbarrow’s bed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Zhen was right, we don’t have much time left to work with these. Half the patch was already brown this morning. Propagating’s not enough. If we don’t figure out how to get them to flower and collect seed, they’re gone.”
Eunny held the door open so he could push the wheelbarrow inside. A row of the specialty terrarium boxes were arranged along the counter, already planted with cuttings from the delegation plants that had finished converting from grass to leaf. Over a dozen more that had shriveled and died filled a separate bin.
Eunny whistled. “You’ve been busy. Should’ve told me, Nev, I’d have come help.”
“I know.” He smiled at her. “I figured I’d see you in here soon enough.”
Once the wheelbarrow was stowed next to the potting bench, Ollas went to her, hands reaching to skim her shoulders. “Is everything okay? I went by last night, but?—”
She kissed him. “I’m fine. Went into town to see my aunt.”
Relief filled his face, making a fresh spur of guilt poke at her insides. But no, that wasn’t allowed. Not now, not at all. Only fun and light and nothing serious.
“Your mother is sweet. Promised to share all sorts of embarrassing stories about you,” Eunny teased.
