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She'd only just said the words, when the telltale clip-clop of the big centaur's approach reverberated off the concrete. Grace raised her head, able to immediately ascertain that something was wrong. Cal was taciturn and gruff and while she'd been intimidated by his briskness at first, she quickly learned that was his default state, and a bark was pretty much all he had. Now though, she could tell he’d been grumbling, his fingers snapping in agitation. Grace wondered if it was worth asking what had set him off, when he addressed them first.
“We’ve got company tomorrow,” he snapped, hooves stamping the ground in annoyance. “So we need to make sure this place looks ‘hospitable’.”
She surveyed the space at Cal’s words: cheery red and white gingham graced the tables for the visitors and CSA inquiries, the pavement was swept, the lawn neatly edged. Rustic, hand lettered signs advertising the pick-your-own produce fields and hand crafted cheeses were hung on the bright red barn, and there was a spit-shine on the green tractor that was kept parked on the edge of the pavement.
“Cal, my house isn’t even this neat,” she pointed out as Caleia harrumphed indignantly at the centaur’s insinuation. “And I don’t have anything on the books for tomorrow. What’s going on?”
“Those busybodies from the horticulture department at the university, they’re working with some scientists on making the community farms more ‘hospitable’ for local pollinators. They’re sending some labcoat know-it-all out to talk with us and old man Mills up the road tomorrow. I talked to the guy for three minutes and I’m already pissed off. Real patronizing, I can already tell.”
A shiver moved up her spine, despite the sweltering heat.He would have told you if he was coming back to the farm, right?She'd not been lying when she'd told Tris she had nearly given up on the bashful moth man. She texted him the following evening, after their observatory date, wishing him luck with his students that week, and she'd not heard from him since. Now the weekend loomed, just another day and a half away, and they'd still not made plans. Grace didn't like the way her stomach twisted when she considered that he simply wasn't that into her, reminding herself that she really ought not to care.So you find someone else to hook up with, whatever.But the notion of him coming back to Saddlethorne now, without even mentioning it to her . . . Her hands clenched into fists at her side, and she waited until Cal had cantered away before pulling out her phone, jabbing the screen in annoyance.
Are you a labcoat know-it-all?
It shouldn’t have been surprising when hours passed before her phone buzzed with his response. The mid-day sun had been high in the sky when she sent the message, a bead of sweat dropping from the frizzy halo of curls that had escaped her bun, and more than just a bead of aggravation heating her neck. Her lunch with Tris hadn't taken nearly as long as she could have made it, and she regretted returning at all to hear the news that she’d been blown off.
Somewhere across town, she reminded herself, in a rental unit he said was literally in the woods, he was asleep. Grace wonderedhowhe slept. Stretched out like a giant, winged beast, his long limbs fully extended in his wings rest, wide and enormous? Perhaps he curled into a ball of fluff, his puffy mantle serving as a pillow he snuggled into, wings wrapped around himself. Each option was more adorable than the last, she was forced to admit, annoyed all over again. When the phone finally buzzed at the edge of the table, her stomach flip-flopped, her heart rate kicking up a few notches. She gripped the edge of the table, counting to ten before she reached out for her phone.
I actually just put my lab coat on
And now that you mention it, people have called me a know-it-all
So . . . yes?
Grace tipped her head back, closing her eyes. It was late afternoon, and the sky was still a brilliant Azure. She wondered if he just woken up, if his soft velvet was rumpled from sleep, still puffed up and standing on end. The thought made her smile. Against her better judgment, she still hoped she would get to determine whether or not the notion had any truth. She wanted to learn how he slept, see his face smoothed out and relaxed; wondered if his constantly bobbing antennae would be at rest. This wasn't one of her long evenings and she would be packing up to go home soon, back to her own little rental house on Persimmon Street, where the tree outside her window was in full cover, obscuring her from the view of her neighbors in the street below. Back to her little house, on the route one would take if one were going to the biology lab at the University.
Are you the lab coat know-it-all coming to the farm tomorrow?
She ought not to care, Grace reminded herself. She wasn't looking for a relationship or love; she only sought to soothe the itch beneath her skin. She ought not to care, but she undeniably did, and she couldn't keep denying that fact. She had been twisting all week long in the absence of his call, wondering if she would see him again, if she would get to hear those adorable little chirps and clicks. If she didn't care, she could have moved on to something or someone else at that point, but the fact remained that shedidcare. Against her better judgment she had begun caring, and it was far too late to unring the bell now.
How am I supposed to surprise you if you already know about that
Hey, wait
Is that what he called me?!
Grace grinned, that same giddy bubble of warmth rising on beating wings in her chest once more. He was coming tomorrow, and he had wanted to surprise her. Even though he had kept her twisting in the wind for the better part of the week, since that night at the observatory. Her phone buzzed again before she had a chance to respond.
If people snatch away my surprises, what do I have left?
We've already been through this, I'm not that smooth
At that she laughed out loud. He was adorable.
Someone told me that even scientists get to have love lives and families.
I've not yet tested that hypothesis, but I figured there was only one way to find out
She knew she ought to listen to her own good advice, but that didn’t prevent her smile from stretching widely at the thought of seeing him the following night, of holding his strong hand and hearing his soft chirps. Her phone buzzed once more, vibrating against the red and white checkered tablecloth.
Besides, a beautiful little birdie told me the blackberries would be ripe this week
And she needs to help me pick them
♥?♥?♥?
