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A long time ago, his dad Cyd shared that he was bisexual, and had proposed to another man by Owlberry Lake before meeting his mum Penny. Coincidentally, the man who turned down Cyd's proposal was Leod McGreggor, who originally owned the land Sunny now lived and worked on, all because Cyd later married Tybalt, who was close with Leod. Life was funny like that sometimes. Anyway, Sunny wondered if he should've known better when he took Dot by the hand to his favourite spot on the farm, by the sparkling fish pond on a sunny day.

Dot said she loved him. She admitted she'd been a wine drunk when she blurted out she'd marry him after he footed the bill for new Printer Press gig equipment as a gift. She said her heart was with the Printer Sisters and maybe always would be and it wouldn't be fair on him to have one foot on her drum pedals and one foot on the farm with him.

It all made sense. It still hurt to hear.

Although it was summer, the metaphorical rain poured when Sunny found Tina on the dirt ground of the barn the next day as he was going in to prep for a market. She liked getting a headstart on inventory; her clipboard lay with an unchecked list next to her. The doctor had told her to take things easier lately; something she'd laughed off but Nathaniel wished he'd been more stern about as her husband. A grim quiet fell over the farm as even the dogs ceased barking in an extended moment of silence.

Imogen specifically had an edge that Teddy hadn't seen in others he'd met since moving to campus. They'd carried on from their teenage romance, now with freedom to hook up whenever, wherever, no parents to bug them about homework and getting a good night's sleep. Nah, Teddy was all about independent choice these days, and he wanted to see Imogen in her customised rave-kimono styled toga, and without it when the mood was right, all day, every day.

Word came from mum's side of the family - her step-relations with the Capps - that they weren't best pleased Teddy got held back a semester with a GPA that he paid dust. Dad was more forgiving which was very much a Weiss thing, though it did make Teddy feel bad for not trying harder, so he switched the topic to ask after his horde of little sisters. He would be on the phone for a good half an hour more at least.

It was an unlikely milestone for a cat but Pushpa hit it nonetheless, with Rocky rushing to show his oldest teenage daughter. They got to the bathroom just in time to see the pawing of the toilet lid, as if to cover what had been done with imaginary litter, and Myrtle raised one eyebrow, not wanting to look too uncool by overreacting. Nobody could figure out how such an old cat had learned a new trick; the moment was later spoken of fondly when the family said goodbye to Pushpa at the pet cemetery.

In that same time, Briar's birthday was celebrated. To his credit, he still had the biggest smile on his face, even after only just experiencing a loss. Proud father Basil had a theory that his boy absorbed lots of sunlight when he was a seedling.

Scot cranked up the surf rock station to fill in the silence left behind since Hunter had gone to university. The wavey reverb of guitars was no replacement for the laughter of children, though. It was just their youngest in the house now - Gabriella was much less chatty with both her big brother and sister moved out. Hunter had followed his heart to be with his boyfriend and Quinn was a headstrong sorority leader. They really were moving on with the years.

Virginia took Scot by the hand to walk on the beach one afternoon and propose an idea. They were barefoot in the toasty sand and paused to look back at their trail of footprints, together 'til the tide came in.

"Would River be open to bringing his family to stay, do you think?" Virginia asked, in a way that sounded closer to a statement than a question, as she had a way of doing when she had a goal. She'd been a Land for a long time but you could never take the strong Beech blood out of her! Scot replied almost immediately: "I'll talk to him."

Picking up what one's wife was putting down was a fantastic skill to have (also handy when he was in politics), and Scot knew the intention: for Gabriella to have cousins around her age to spend time with everyday, in the way Scot and his siblings had each other for most of their lives. Maybe it would be good for Scot and Loren to have their brother as part of their home too; the loss of Mary and Dixie still made everyone feel a bit fractured these days, especially with Delta off living large in the city.

The jeweller had completed the bespoke golden band earlier that day, with the brief that is was going to worn as Maria's one and only ring, rather than spending money on the engagement and wedding bands. The couple had spoken about this at length and decided to keep their bonding simple: vows spoken in the backyard with a handful of close friends present. Maria was surprised to hear that Kestrel's ex Emily had accepted an invitation; it was nice to know they were going into the future with no hard feelings, as Emily had found her own happiness with someone since.

Nathaniel tried to remind himself of this as he scooped piles of ash that were formerly the living room lounge suite into a dustpan. Disaster had struck when one of the romantically lit candles tipped over and caught the polyester foot of the bunny costume; the poor sod inside had run outside to stamp it out on the wet grass, screeching all the way, while Tina scrambled for the phone and Nathaniel threw a quilted blanket over the mess of wax that was unceremoniously drowning the pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs.

It all started when Olive, Hermia's cat, was found curled up peacefully under the willow tree, making her way to see her human again over the rainbow bridge. The image served as a reminder to Nathaniel of the sister he'd had all along but only ever grew up knowing as his cousin because of the generation above wanting to avoid a scandal. He was only just starting to get to know Hermia better before she died. Now a link to her was gone, and he was spending most days gazing out at the fields, looking for a glimpse of her inexplicably purple hair bobbing between the cows. She used to go out and sing pop-punk songs to them. I could've known all those words, too.

Tina was won over by the Social Bunny's brief bio: Erotic entertainment to put spring back in your step. Hop right in! She called the number for an appointment, was pleasantly surprised by the chirpy voice on the other end, and invited Nathaniel to stay up late with her. Sunny was out overnight so the farmhouse was all theirs for some fun!

Then the guest of honour arrived. Profuse apologies were delivered from a muffled giant plush pink bunny head: the newspaper had mixed up the phone numbers of two different bunny-based services in print. That explained why this bunny showed up at a respectable hour during dinner. Tina could only imagine furious parents somewhere out there at their little one's birthday party, but needs must: she offered the bunny a generous sum to remain and entertain, and their shrug of sure, why not was visible under the faux overall straps of the costume. A smile was playing on Nathaniel's lips as he looked down at his roast dinner and Tina was relieved.

Margaret couldn't help baring her canines when members of the Tricou family brought up their curse, even her one and only Fricorith. The sun was literally a ball of fire burning up the earth's atmosphere and, in a growing number of cases, making people sick. Why could they not see the blessing of being taken under the gentle glow of the moon instead? Her own family had accepted the consequence of consuming milk of the Laganaphyllis gladly. She was the last of them, with the green of the earth filtering out of their blood many generations ago, so it was up to her to change perceptions of the fae in the House of Fallen Trees.

The current family head, Nylissit, was a flighty one. Recently retired from being paid to attend parties as one of the city's only old money socialites, she now spent her days sucking the flesh of plasma fruits with her arm draped over her wife Delta on the couch. She once volunteered to feed a bottle of formula to Minerva but that was about it on the supporting-the-family front. Margaret recalled the former head Jennail, and Jennicor before her, being far more proactive leaders, but perhaps a mind at leisure was more easily convinced.

"Yeah, sure," Nylissit said with a hand wave in response to Margaret's moon-praising monologue. "Might as well accept who we are, I suppose."

Her friend Viola crouched down next to her, cheek to the floor in a puddle of tears that Ocelot was putting his little snout to. "Rain," Viola said, as if the air around them was made of eggshells, "please, come stay with me." It was after the funeral and the tea sandwiches had made Rainelle sick; she didn't think she'd been seen when she made an Irish goodbye but of course was Viola was keeping an eye on her. She couldn't raise her head for it felt thick with the fog of grief, but she lifted her eyes to her friend and managed a single nod.

Going to Viola's firelit home where it was game night every night would mean Rainelle didn't have to sit on the couch at home and miss his strong shoulder to lean on. She could walk Ocelot on a new route that didn't go past a beach he had loved so much. It was the little things, so new little things would have to become her new normal.

The question was put no more bluntly than Cliff's usual manner of speaking but he still managed to surprise himself. The content of his query was absurd. Sure, venus flytraps were real plants that attracted flies to the inner tract to feed on, but a plant big enough to swallow a human could not be possible, and Little Shop of Horrors was not a documentary.

Then again, Night of the Living Dead was no doco either, but proof of a reanimated not-quite-alive, not-quite-dead person shuffled amongst everyone in the village, and Cliff had played a part in making that grey zombie of Hi Thyme a sad reality. He'd never really liked the guy but it turned out the guilt of taking part in a dark ritual had a way of weighing on one's conscience, especially after becoming a dad. Life was nothing to played around with. Kesha was also starting to get curious and ask questions about the green people; it was only a matter of time before she wondered about the pale uncle of her school friend Tech.

It just so happened Eartha had invited her aunt Delta for dinner one evening. For Eartha's part, she had abandoned the basement ritual to bring Hi back, as she was already pregnant with Kesha and felt sick at the sight of it. Cliff could only wish he'd followed her then and there, but here he was, taking Delta aside for a yarn in the backyard and asking the lovely old woman what she knew about human-eating plants. Wholesome family activity.

Delta's face dropped and she moved past Cliff to go back indoors. "It's not my place to talk about such things, even if I am married to a Tricou. Oh, I think Kesha's calling us." Cliff did not hear his daughter's voice but Delta seemed certain, and he was left standing by the sunflowers, listening to whizzing cicadas nearby.

The supernatural forums were right. Members of the Tricou family, famous for reappearing at their haunted House of Fallen Trees after years of having vanished from the city, were indeed the right people to ask about a plant that eats people. The "looks like a cow" thing probably wasn't true but the rumour mill had ground out a single kernel of truth.

It was all the newlyweds needed - each other, Vespera's twin sister, and Cian's closest friend Osric. The four were officially family now and would soon be organising playdates with their babies ever after. Lilita and Vespera did have a little cry together, wishing their mum and dad could've seen them in their wedding dresses (mum would've loved Vespera bucking the all-white trend to wear a deep violet number with white lashings around the hem), and the boys had similar musings over pints at the pub (Cian's was the most bittersweet; he still had no idea what happened to his father after all this time). Their children, however, would never feel alone. The sentiment regarding this was so strong that it was included in both couples' vows.

Too bad Cian held onto love notes from old flames in a shoebox stashed in his dresser. Too bad Vespera found them one day looking for an extra thick pair of comfy socks to kick back and relax in. Too bad she read them and felt sick and did have to run to the bathroom.

The publisher liked the title of JoAnn's maestro memoir and asked if any other publications had used the word "icon" to describe the factory turned funhouse, for possible praising quotes to put on the jacket. Well, no, not yet. That was the beauty of it, JoAnn told them, with a winning combo of bright earnestness and firm seriousness. Why wait for others to call us iconic? Besides, the publisher was already on board via virality of the venue's social media presence alone. Dot was a whiz with the algorithm and had trend-savvy people chasing hashtags to the village to rival the droves of cattle. What more did they need?

Success as a published author as well as a rising rock star aside, JoAnn liked to feel down-to-earth again. She'd taken up busking by Owlberry Lake and remembering the feeling of being a tiny guitar prodigy just learning her chords with every clink of a coin in the jar. Beer money, she'd told Daisy with a laugh.

Speaking of Daisy, she'd found a new interest in developing the Printer Press bar menu, becoming quite the cocktail and cheese platter queen. Dot was trying something new too - gasp - monogamy! Even talking about getting married, for goodness sake, all because the handsome farmer boy Sunny Roseland donated the cost of the stage's sound and lighting rig.

There were things she didn't want to acknowledge. She didn't want to know if she was seriously sick, because then she would have to know for sure that her immune system had become weaker in old age. She was going to stifle this cough, that was surely just a little throat tickle, nothing more, and keep on trucking. She had to, for her daughters.

An entirely separate matter that Daisy wilfully turned a blind eye to was her teenagers being teenagers and doing things like sneaking out to hang in random fields with friends at midnight. Myrtle and Venice were awesome kids, truly - both took after their dad's natural smarts, did well in school, and even put their hands up for clubs and student leadership roles. The latest development was Venice joining the spirit team and advocating for cheerleading as a brand new initiative. However, they were still kids. Daisy slipped water bottles with slices of lemon into their backpacks and assured Rocky they would be fine, in spite of his frowning. Someone in the village would let them know if something was amiss. Besides, weren't they both young too, once?

Literally - more bees than usual passed by that evening to sip from the bright flowers exploding from springtime growth. Coupled with the trees swaying and birds chittering, Hazel felt like a princess being sung the praises of by a royal court, and that was before her guests arrived! She took it as a message from the spirits of her grandparents, the king and queen of the faeries, ruling from the evergreen mouth of the earth.

Fanciful flora aside, one guest caught Hazel's eye. She'd pondered attending university simply to be closer to this woman but conceded the academic responsibility of higher education was not up her alley. Hollis had perfumed her hair. It was thick but not heavy-looking; it caressed her collarbone like sand dunes under a whisper of a breeze. It had fruity top notes and her lips tasted the same. Ah! What an exquisite gift her presence was. Hazel had donned the traditional faerie dress of large leaves stitched together with vines but she wanted to tear it all off for Hollis to see beyond. She would simply have to stay the night once the party was over.

With the exception of Hazel's dad Puck, the house would be theirs for just a little while, as the Greenman-men had gone to the greenhouse next door to stay. Little Briar needed to get to know his clan more closely, like his cousins and the famous aunt Daisy. So off the boys went, and Robyn gave notice that she would be coming to stay with her girlfriend, Autumn, as graduation was done and dusted.

As it was, she already woke every morning expecting a voice memo from Andy in a goofy voice telling her about the latest escapade at the pub and saying his sister needed to join him sometime. She usually palmed her glasses to her face, scrolled back, and resigned herself to the last time she ever heard his voice.

"Yeah, hold on - hey HEEEY Sara! Marina likes ice cream, yeah? There's a new truck that goes around here, playing a little jingle that goes - mmm, I forget how it goes. But I wanna get her some ice cream so... yeah, let's do it. Aight, see ya!"

There had been a little message chain after that where Sara recorded Marina's enthusiastic "yes please, uncle Andy!" and they made plans to meet up at the Desiderate Valley boardwalk on the beach to listen out for the tune Andy couldn't remember. But it never happened. He didn't ever seem sick or anything; it was like a hand of god just snatched him away. Marina was so little and red-faced and couldn't understand what happened to her uncle and neither could Sara, to be fair, even though it was her job as a parent to explain it.

It was a prediction she kept to herself, as the issue was mostly about herself. She just didn't feel like being besieged by hordes of Capps right this second, not after the gaffe she'd made when going to visit the pregnant Patience and being turned away for bringing two sisters with her. Being frowned at by a burly bodyguard butler who was literally Bigfoot was an experience she never wanted to repeat!

However, needs must, and Miranda slipped on her signature ice cool blue glasses to meet guests arriving in the foyer. Patience was among the first and the young woman, clad in soft cashmere, lilac and grey, wrapped her arms around her 'aunt' (her mother Juliette was Miranda's cousin, so aunt was an easier term than some clunky alternative that everybody guessed at but nobody really knew). "Clovis sends his apologies, he's home with Lysander," Patience said in Miranda's ear, still holding her. A very polite thing to issue the status of the plus one to the party host.

The birthday girl herself enjoyed the benefits of being a guest at her party rather than the burden of organisation. Miranda gifted her baby sister a mocha brown suit to wear in her newfound years as a woman of a more distinguished age; Ginger changed into it immediately and sang the praises of her sister's choice all throughout the evening. "Ladies, gentlemen, honoured guests - my style icon," she had announced after tapping a silver spoon to a champagne glass. Her sweeping arm and upturned palm were directed at Miranda, who received applause.