𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗻𝗼𝘅.

Then,  glancing  up  at  her,  that  crooked  grin  tugged  back  into  place.  “And  I  expect  you  to  defend  my  scones  with  that  same  conviction  the  next  time  someone  tells  me  it's  too  early  for  cardamom.”  A  pause,  gentler.  “You  okay?”  he  asked,  like  he  meant  it.  Like  he’d  seen  the  flicker  in  her  before  she  passed  him  the  bottle.

alice couldn't herself, emotion trickled from her heart into her eyes like the vermont creeks that slashed through the forest. suddenly her body was all rocks and trees and there it was - a fissure in the land that opened up to a dangerous vulnerability. she swallowed hard willing hot tears to keep from welling up. "it's never too early for cardamom. it's good for your energy." she couldn't burden callum with her feelings the grief still so heavy on his mind. it wasn't her responsibility to grieve anyways. she'd adopted this sadness like you would a bird with a lame wing, tended to it in her garden of empathy. "it's nothing." she assured shaking her head and busily tending the bottles in front of her. "i'm just happy to see you doing well. you're a great fit for the cafe."

nety watched her unwrap the muffin like it was a sacred thing, something worth slowing down for. cinnamon caught the air between them, warm and spiced like memory. she didn’t say anything for a long moment, just breathed it in — alice beside her, the hush of grass under their knees, the shimmer of glass bottles catching sun like fireflies trapped in amber. when alice reached for the green-wrapped bottle, nety’s gaze followed. the checked bow, the careful folds — it felt like being chosen in a language no one else could read. "you made one for me." she echoed, the words tasting tender on her tongue, as if she needed to try them on before believing them. her hands moved gently, reverent, as she accepted the bottle and cradled it like something living. she could feel the pulse of alice’s intention in the weight of it, in the way it fit into her palm like it had always belonged there. "thank you." she said, not just for the tincture, not just for the gift. "i think your magic might be the only thing keeping me from unraveling some days."

alice's cadence had softened even further with nety's continued presence. like a wax candle melting in the sun the rungs of her spine sunk into themselves and her head lolled back to the meet the waiting sky. fat, fluffy white clouds hung low populating her vision like a dream. she reached out to take nety's warm palm into her the physicality of calloused fingers pressed together grounding her. "not magic." she laughed musically. "it's just science. besides, you do most of the work of yourself." their friendship had been founded out of a mutual desire to take care of others. they traded recipes and left presents on porches. they spent long, quiet stretches in each other's company in the dwindling light of the evening. the weight of that expectation sat heavy on her. "i'm not holding anyone together. just giving them a hand."

nety didn’t press. she never did. it was her way — gentle, unhurried, like the tide inching toward the shore, steady enough to be mistaken for stillness. "you’re welcome." she murmured, voice dipped in warmth but never cloying. "and you know... most people don’t measure survival in weddings." her gaze flicked toward ceren’s profile — elegant and unreadable, jaw set with all the precision of someone who’s been taught that softness is dangerous, that stillness is surrender. nety didn’t try to unravel her. she only offered the kind of company that asked for nothing in return. "we can relax now, you know. and i’ll protect you from any rogue tea enthusiasts who try to stage an intervention." and there it was again — that softness with teeth, the humor sheathed in velvet, an invitation wrapped in dry wit. she didn’t need to convince ceren. she’d already carved a space beside her, easy as breath.

ceren laughed, hoarse and self deprecating as she crossed her arms over her chest. it was a naturally defensive position that suited her, always prepared for the next battle she meant to undertake. she shared none of nety's tranquility. ceren's spine would have been better suited pressed back against a bow-string prepared to loose an arrow at the next opponent who deigned to stand in her way. she gave nety a wary look over the tea lifting the lid to sniff it with that clinical awareness she possessed. "i'm not measuring survival in weddings i'm measuring it in success. that includes parties and fundraisers too." the summer wind rustled the small curls of brown hair on her collarbone as she leaned back against a tree. "i don't understand you at all." though no malice in lingered in her tone. "nice people confuse me. there's plenty to be mad about."

"Tinctures huh - yeah I'll be the first to admit I haven't really had any knowledge in those types of remedies. But you're the expert. I always am looking for ways to enhance my wellness." Adrian was always the type to regard somebody's craft and just by her tone he could already easily come to realization she was passionate. Which was refreshing. "I'll take one if no one has claimed them?" The man not wanting to jump to conclusions just because they were out here in open display. "That's okay though, the diagnosis. I don't need that." Gentleness came with his tone, an easy let down. Being poked and prodded or underneath any sort of imaginary microscope had him feeling cramped and uneasy.

alice tilted her head brown eyes sharpening. she had a curious way of fixing her gaze to seem as if she could see right through you - bones, sinew and all. her smile faltered as she took a thoughtful moment to look adrian up and down. "scared of doctors?" there was no accusation in her town, only an earnest curiosity wrapped in the wool-warmth of her placid tone. "western medicine will do that. it's so sterile. i always hated going to the doctor's office as a kid. everything's so white and so sterile. no feng shui at all, the qi of those places is completely off." she threw up her hands apologetically. "not that i don't appreciate modern medicine. i think healing is a healthy aspect of both. just that they could do with a few plants and a coat of paint."

　　ᝰ　　there's  a  laugh  that  escapes  eddie's  lips  after  watching  the  scene  before  him,  finding  it  amusing  how  clearly  ceren  was  trying  to  keep  her  composure  despite  looking  like  an  unamused  cat  that  had  been  given  a  shower.  he  approaches  ceren  with  a  wary  smile,  as  if  to  test  her  mood.  “  you  look  like  you're  having  fun,  ”  eddie  teases,  and  runs  hand  through  his  hair  —  wet,  because  a  moment  ago  he  too  had  fallen  victim  to  the  child's  mischief.  “  c'mon,  ”  he  coaxes,  plucking  the  dead  phone  from  her  hands.  “  this  only  happens  once  in  a  year.  take  the  time  to  enjoy  yourself.  you  can  go  be  a  busy  woman  tomorrow.  ”

at the sight of eddie's familiar visage her annoyance melted if only a little bit. she smoothed her palms across her shorts and looked for that small pocket of peace which lived inside of her mind at her most irritated moments. "i don't know why everyone thinks i'm not enjoying myself." she said. "look, i'm having a great time." her placid expression remained unchanged. laughter bubbled up from somewhere else in the park and a school of kids began to hit a soccer ball back and forth. only happens once a year, thank god, she thought with relief. "you know the societal expectation for women to enjoy themselves at social gatherings is misogyny in action. i hope you like being complicit in the heteropatriarchy eddie."

      the sun was rarely this hostile so early in the season, yet it seemed that today was especially blessed by beating rays, ones that would inevitably leave some townies lobster-skinned and rushing to the markets for aloe. rocio, in her case, happily welcomed the onslaught of rainbow-colored balloons, each splutter of water upon her skin a godsend ( and her clothes, too, now drenched and sticking to her form ). she devolved a fit of laughter, hands splayed before her as some form of shield, not only before the group of children had grown itchy for a fresh pot of victims. " didn't know i'd be front row to your wet t-shirt contest today, cer. " a taunt, albeit immature, but rocio never touted herself for her sophistication, especially not in ceren's presence — not these days, at least. " can't even relax for one day, no ? maybe those kids did you a favor. surely, they did me one. "

a hot new wave of embarrassment and annoyance coursed through at the sound of rocio's voice. ceren stiffened as she spoke and steeled her face into neutrality. the tenderness of their separation was still so raw. the night before her father's funeral a few months ago and the vicious whip of ceren's mouth when she'd declared, go, i don't want you here, you're only making it worse. how rocio could stand to look at her (or do what they'd done in the freezer of kavak's table last week) was beyond her. instinctively she crossed her arms over her chest as if that would make a difference to how she'd been seen already and huffed. "if you're here just to bother me you can go. look over there, she's cute, go get her number." but her stomach turned as she spoke at the thought of rocio's smooth laugh pouring into anyone else's ear. "i'm going home anyways." she'd had enough of this potluck.

callum  slows  to  a  stop  in  front  of  the  blanket,  brows  lifting  as  he  takes  in  the  bottles  lined  up  with  careful  intention.  “you  made  these?”  he  asks,  crouching  down  without  hesitation,  hands  braced  on  his  knees.  there’s  a  lightness  to  his  voice,  but  his  eyes  move  over  the  display  with  quiet  focus,  like  he  knows  better  than  to  treat  it  casually.  he  reaches  for  one  of  the  bottles,  lifting  it  gently.  “guess  i  should’ve  brought  something  better  than  lukewarm  coffee  and  yesterday’s  blueberry  scones,”  he  adds  with  a  crooked  smile.  he  turns  the  bottle  over  in  his  hands,  studying  the  neat  handwriting,  the  cloth  wrapping.  “which  one  would  you  recommend?  for  a  guy  who  never  sleeps  and  worries  too  much  about  scone  inventory.”  it’s  half  a  joke,  but  not  really.

in a flash she could see his mother's face so clearly reflected in the easy tilt of callum's self-effacing smile. her heart squeezed, aching with the still tender loss. she had always hated to say goodbye to those dearest. she couldn't help but resent their absence. her father had often espoused the analects of confucius to her as a child, that nobody should fear death and instead focus on their life. but it was hard not to fear the unknowable. her mother would then chime in that lúnhuí awaited them according to the buddha, and alice in between the weight of gods and scholars could only reckon with it as it came to her. she cleared her throat and shook her head. "your scones are a marvel of the universe. how on earth would we ever keep going without access to good scone?" she presented him with a blue bottle. "zizyphus, fuling, and gancao. put a couple drops under your tongue and then burn some lavender incense or some chrysanthemum tea and it should help you. i can make you a blend if you want?"

her steps were delicate across the grass, soft smiles extended to each face that met her gaze as eyes wandered in search of visages more familiar. expression brightened, the sun emerging upon the horizon, when she caught sight of alice.  ❝  it's good to see you too. ❞   kneeling down, yujin glanced at the bottles neatly arranged across the blanket, each wrapped like delicate presents. slender fingers extended, picking up one of the bottles and turning it over in her hand.  ❝  what does this one help with? ❞   her head tilted slightly to the side as full attention returned to alice.

alice watched yujin's long legs glide over the green expanse between them with a rapt fascination. thirty years old and she still felt like a child but women like yujin seemed to wear that maturity well. her bracelets clinked against each other as she moved tinkling like christmas bells. the soft odor of lavender seemed to overwhelm the area between alice the uniform rows of trees behind her. she grinned softly palming the grass beneath her as she rose up on her knees to meet yujin's stance. "it's a love potion." her laugh was musical and delighted as she watched yujin's face. "that's a joke my mom likes to say. it's ginseng, gingko, and astralagus root. they uh help with... virility." she was a medical professional, she tried not to be embarrassed but the admission still pushed her hand to pick nervously at the back of her neck.

she knelt without asking, the way she always did now, like her body remembered how to fit beside alice’s before her mind caught up. her fingers hovered for a moment above the offerings before choosing one with no logic at all — just a pull in the ribs. "i’m glad you’re here." she added. she offered the muffin like a peace treaty, crooked smile tugging at her lips. "for the alchemist. no pressure to eat it. i just didn’t want you to forget in case you haven't gotten food yet." and then, quieter still, the kind of soft meant only for two: "it’s good to see you, too."

nety's legs melded against her soft like the terrycloth napkins she kept folded into a little wicker basket in the kitchen. there was an amiable recognition between them as she brushed a few stray blades of grass from her shin. the muffin was deliciously warm and crusted with cinnamon-sugar at the top and she unwrapped it flipping it's head over to the cradle of her palm. i'm glad you're here, nety's voice floated through the ether into her ribcage growing little vines. what a simple phrase that sent her smiling shoulder pressed against her friends. there were very few people alice endeared her feelings upon. she was much better at listening than she was at sharing, thankfully nety shared the same affliction and so their kinship had been founded in a mutual need for the kind of listener they had both become. she picked up a bottle wrapped in a hunter green scrap and tied with a checked bow. "i made this one for you. to help with your energy during the long shifts."

"looks like the universe is staging an intervention." she murmured, holding out the cup between them like a peace offering, like an answer. her voice was low and warm, the sound of river stones smoothed by time. "here. tea, not coffee. you’ll survive it." she didn’t smile. not quite. but her eyes held a knowing glint as they searched ceren’s face. quiet presence, the kind that didn’t need permission to settle beside you. "come sit in the shade. it’s not a battlefield out here, i promise." and though she said it like a joke, there was a tenderness beneath the words that lingered, like a hand offered palm-up with no strings at all.

ceren dabbed a paper napkin at the damp patches on her tank top and frowned unhappily. how anyone could ever want to keep a child in their home full time she couldn't fathom. her siblings probably would have called her cold, but then agreed she didn't have a maternal bone in her body and a kid was better off without her. nety's voice, warm like the sun peeking through the clouds was lilted with amusement and she gave her a half-hearted smile as she wiped the phone off on her shorts and shoved it into her back pocket. before she could take a moment to argue that actually she did have a portable charger in her bag if she could walk back over to car nety had already decided their path swift as air. nothing to be done then. she could feel the inklings of a stress headache beginning to pulsate behind her eyes and took the cup of tea. "i don't know why everyone is so concerned about my caffeine intake. if i was going to have a heart attack i would have done it during my last wedding project." she took a long sip and was frustrated to find that it was excellent, curse nety and her seemingly supernatural knowledge of tea, "thank you." she added tersely as if reprimanding herself for forgetting.