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Pushing to my feet, I brush off my pants. “Goodnight, Noah.”
He lays back down in the grass. “Goodnight, sweet Daisy.”
Chapter Two
Noah
Iyawn and sip my coffee, sunlight streaming in through the window, while Honey and Clover scoot around each other, getting tea and food. Clover’s breakfast is a banana before she heads out for a run and Honey has already fed the animals and done an hour’s worth of work on the farm.
I’ve just rolled out of bed.
I think it’s the first time in my life I haven’t been the earliest riser compared to the people I’m living with.
I need to enjoy this moment, because eventually I’m going to have to find my own place to live. None of the sisters, named after flowers by their botanist mother, have asked me to move out or even seem bothered that I’m still living here, six weeks after I arrived, but I’m not their family.
I don’t truly belong here.
I sip my coffee and I try to soak in the feeling of being part of a big, happy family for the first time in my life.
“Honey,” Clover says. “Isn’t it your week to pick up the community items at the store?”
“It is,” Honey says sweetly as she sits across from me and sets a bowl of oatmeal on the table. “I got everything on the list.”
“Creamer was on the list. And I don’t see it anywhere.”
“I got vegan creamer.”
Clover closes the refrigerator door and stares at her sister. “I’m not vegan.”
“Well, I’ve decided I can’t rescue farm animals and continue to eat animal products. Buying them is just as bad.”
Clover pops her hands on her hips, which means she’s about to get serious. “What difference does it make who buys it? It’s still going to get bought.”
Honey sips her tea and smiles serenely. “Maybe you’ll try the vegan creamer and like it.”
“You’ve been a vegan for what? Two weeks? And you’re already trying to force the rest of us into it. So typical.”
Honey’s placid demeanor slips. She sets down her mug and twists in her seat to face her sister. “So typical? When have I ever forced you to do anything? If there’s anyone who’s being forced to do things around here, it’s me. How many yoga classes have you forced on me? And what the hell was that rice you fed us last night?”
“It was cauliflower rice.” Clover speaks slowly. “And it’s good for you. It’s not fake, processed crap like vegan creamer.”
“You think milk isn’t processed? You think it doesn’t have additives and human tampering? Not to mention it’s meant for ingestion by baby cows, not humans.”
Clover is at a loss for a moment, but she rallies. “You don’t even drink creamer, Honey. When I feed you cauliflower rice, it’s because it’s what I actually eat and it’s my night to fix dinner.”
I lift my mug of coffee to hide my smile.
Honey closes her eyes and takes three deep breaths. When she opens her eyes, she seems calmer. “Vegan creamer is what I’ll be buying from now on. Drink it or don’t. Your choice.”
Clover huffs and glares, but she can’t seem to find an argument. Honey turns back around and digs into her oatmeal.
Muttering to herself, Clover adds the vegan creamer to her coffee, stirs and gasps. “It’s all clumpy. I can’t drink this.”
“You have to put the creamer in first and then add the coffee,” I say. I’ve had enough vegan roommates over the years to have learned that much.
Clover stirs some more and stares into the mug. “I don’t want to waste the coffee.” She stirs some more. “The lumps are getting smaller.”
Honey’s eyes sparkle as she smiles at me across the table.
