A/N: This was written for Durotos' Holiday Surprises Prompt down in the Village Square Forum. My assigned prompt was "A Hot Meal." Also, consider this a sequel to my other fic, Making Progress.
"You learn a lot about someone when you share a meal together." Anthony Bourdain
Gray Donaghue stood in front of the Boatwright house, the cobblestoned streets lined with a rainbow patchwork quilt of leaves. The perfect backdrop for autumn. He looked down at his beige jumpsuit and grimaced. Maybe he should have worn something a little nicer. More formal, maybe? Gray shook his head. No, it was too late now. Besides, Mary didn't mind how he dressed. If she had, she would have suggested he wear something that didn't make him look like a janitor. The chilly autumn frost sent a sharp breeze through him, and Gray shivered. As much as he liked the scenery, standing out here forever was gonna drive him crazy.
Working up his courage, Gray melded his hand into a fist and knocked on the door four times, rapid fire so anyone inside could hear it. Part of him was starting to wish he hadn't come here. All Mary did was invite him to dinner for the Starry Night Festival. It wasn't like she had demanded that he show up or else she'd get back at him in some way. But another part of him told him to suck it up and see it through. He had accepted her invitation, and it'd be rude to just blow her off. Besides, he liked Mary. Why couldn't he spend part of the day with her and her family?
The door creaked open, and Mary Boatwright greeted him with a bright smile. "Hello, Gray! So you decided to come after all!" She exclaimed, her cobalt eyes gleaming with joy.
Gray could only flash a sheepish smile as he tugged on the bill of his hat. Man, seeing those eyes and that sweet, genuine smile made his heart melt. That was one thing he liked about her: She was always genuine, and was never fake, nor did she try to be anything she wasn't. Even on a day like this, she was dressed in her usual attire: a simple greyish blue vest over a long sleeved white shirt, a medium length skirt, tall white socks, and black shoes. Her dark hair was in its seemingly permanent braid, with her favorite blue ribbon at the end. He heard the ribbon was a gift from an old friend from elementary school. What was that friend's name again? His mind went blank.
"Hey, Mary," Gray sputtered. "So...I made it."
Mary cocked her head to one side. "Where's Mr. Saibara?"
"He's still working on something right now, and told me to go on ahead of him," Gray said, his answer direct and to the point. "He said he'll get here a little later," The strawberry blonde clenched his teeth. "Tch. Typical," Even on a day like this, his grandfather couldn't be bothered to put his work down until he finished it completely. Last Gray checked, it wasn't like his work absolutely needed to be done right now. Why not take a break from it and finish it a little later? But he had long since resigned to the fact that his grandfather never left anything unfinished, so what was the point of complaining about it now?
A subtle laugh escapes her. "I'm not surprised. We can wait for him. Dinner's not going to be ready for another hour yet," Mary told him, moving to the side to let Gray in. "Come on in."
Just as Gray stepped into the Boatwright home, the aroma of stewing vegetables wafted in the air, caressing his nostrils. Onions and chicken, with a hint of spices. Finally, something that wasn't metal or iron for once. Being stuck in the forge, doing nothing but hammering on metal and smelling liquid iron had its drawbacks. Gray took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the vegetables in the crockpot like he hadn't smelled good food in years. He stole a glance at the kitchen. Anna, Mary's mother, stood in front of the oven, placing spheres of dough on a cookie sheet. Biscuits, maybe? Gray couldn't quite tell.
As he stared at the cookie sheet, Anna's eyes met his. Nervously, Gray turned away, averting her gaze. Anna smiled in his direction. "Hello, Gray. I'm glad you could come tonight," Anna said, welcoming him right away, though her hands continued to put pieces of dough on the sheet.
"Thanks for inviting me, Mrs. Boatwright," Gray pushed out. A lump had formed in his throat, though he managed to swallow it down just enough to be able to speak normally. "Where's Mr. Boatwright?"
The cookie sheet was full, and Anna slid it into the oven as she answered. "Basil's looking for some parsley down in his study. It goes well with chicken."
Gray grinned a little, his face turning warm. Mary's father was a well known botanist who studied all sorts of plants and greenery here in Mineral Town. He even wrote several books, all of which were stored in the Mineral Town Library right next door, which he found out had been in the family for several generations. In fact, all Basil ever seemed to talk about was plants. He had seen Anna get frustrated with him many times for that reason. But Basil had always been a friendly, jovial guy. So what if he was obsessed with plants? If he liked them, then he liked them.
"Would you like some help?" Gray offered, his voice more steady this time. "I'm not much of a cook, but I can clean up for you if you'd like."
Anna's face brightened. "Gray, that's so sweet of you to offer!" She exclaimed, her voice going up an octave. "But I'm okay for right now, so there's no need."
"Hey, Gray?" Mary's dulcet calling of his name pulled him back towards his host. "Would you like to come up to my room? I figure we can kill some time before dinner," She suggested.
Her room? Gray had been up there once, but only for a short time. She was trying to find something and he offered to help, though he was only in there for about ten minutes. The thought of going into her room while her parents were here made his face heat up, turning it a light tint of red. Her parents were home. It wasn't normal for girls to just invite guys to their bedrooms, even if they were friends. Sure, Anna and Basil knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't do anything skeevy or unsavory, but Gray still shuddered at the thought of something going wrong. Knowing that this line of thinking was just going to rile him up, he shook his head. Get a hold of yourself, his consciousness told him. You're overthinking things.
"Sure. Is it okay with your mom, though?" Gray replied.
"I don't mind," Anna piped in, having picked up on her guest's worries with just a glance.
Mary gently took him by the hand and led him up the stairs without a care in the world. Gray felt his shoulders relax as Anna waved at them. "Have fun!"
Organized. That was the word that sprung in Gray's mind when he entered Mary's room. Just like the library, Mary's room was very tidy. Not a single object was out of place. She had two bookshelves, all filled to the brim with books, big and small. Gray squinted to see if he could see any empty spots that the books didn't cover up. Not a single one. Mary's bed was made, and plenty of stuffed animals sat in front of the pillows, mostly plush rabbits and teddy bears. Her mahogany desk had piles of notebooks on the left side, and her computer and speakers took up the rest of it. He saw a small jar with bug illustrations on it that was filled with pencils and pens. She probably used those for writing.
It wasn't just her room that was organized. Even when they went to school together, Mary was always prepared and tidy, always having her textbooks and notebooks on hand, worrying over tiny details that nobody else would notice. On several occasions, Mary had picked a leaf off of someone's shirt or hair, or wiped some dust off someone's shoulders. Some people he knew called her fussy, like she was some spoiled princess who'd throw a tantrum if nothing went her way. Gray heard someone say she was meticulous. He smiled at the memory. That word was a much better description of his friend, fitting her perfectly. A far cry from Gray himself, who considered it a waste of time to do his own laundry and clean his room.
Mary rummaged through one pile of books right by her bed. She beamed before pulling two out from the pile. Small, flimsy paperbacks with illustrations of spaceships and full moons on the covers. "Here, Gray. I found these for you," Mary held her hands out, books in hand.
Gray took them into his hands, his jaw falling wide open once he saw the covers. "No way!" He shouted, enough to make Mary wince. "Galactic Battle and My Conquest Is The Sea of Stars! These have been out of print for years!" The books in his hands were light, but to Gray, they were like a gold mine in the best possible way. He had searched high and low for these particular books since he found them in a library in his original hometown. But try as he might, he couldn't find any copies that were less than a hundred bucks. And yet, here they were, right in his hands, just like magic!
"How the heck did you find these?!" Gray exclaimed, raising his voice without meaning to.
"Well, my mother and I went to a different library outside of town two weeks ago," Mary began, twirling the end of her giant braid around her finger. "They were having a spring book sale, and I happened to see those two on sale for one dollar each. I know how much you like space operas, so I bought them. I had no idea they were so rare, though."
"Do you know how hard it is to find these two books in particular?!" Gray enthused, waving the books around as he wildly gesticulated to her. "These things go for, like, a hundred bucks online! They've been out of print since 2004, and no new copies have been made since then! Aw man, I really owe you one, Mary! I've been looking for these since 5th grade!"
"Careful!" Mary suddenly held her hands out. "Don't wave them around so much. Their covers aren't in the best condition."
As ordered, Gray stopped waving his hands. The covers of the books had lots of wavy creases and rips, and the pages had an intense yellow hue to them from age. The corners were folded, with Galactic Battle in particular having a large section of it folded backward. Mary was right. These books were precious. The last thing Gray wanted was to accidentally throw them and get them destroyed. He needed to be careful, especially now that his arduous search for them had finally bore fruit.
"Oh! Right. Sorry," Gray cradled the books in his arms, averting his gaze when he saw Mary's surprised concern. "But seriously, thanks. You have no idea how much this means to me."
Mary stifled another giggle. "I suppose I don't. But you're welcome."
His legs were starting to turn numb, so he sat down on the side of the bed to let his feet rest. As Gray stole a glance at one of Mary's shelves, he noticed most of the books had something in common. They were all about bugs, or had something to do with entomology.
"You into bugs or somethin'?"
Mary sat down on the foot of her bed, figuring out what Gray was talking about. "I do admit, I am rather fond of studying insects," She pulled out one book in particular that had a monarch butterfly on the cover. The Big Book of Butterflies was its title. "I find it so fascinating that such small creatures with such short lifespans are able to survive in a world full of giants like us," Her voice lowered to a dream-like whisper.
Humans as giants...Gray could definitely see how humans could be perceived that way from a bug's perspective. Seeing the fondness in Mary's eyes made his chest tighten.
"Of course, all the girls I knew in school wouldn't even go near bugs, much less study them. When I was younger, kids used to pick on me by calling me Bug Eyes."
Bug Eyes? Mary? Gray blanched at the thought of kids bullying someone as sweet and nice as Mary. If he ever saw anyone picking on her, he'd put them right in their place. "Really? That's screwed up."
"It was," Mary agreed.
Before the two of them could converse, harsh, raspy bellowing rumbled from the bottom floor. Gray winced, recognizing it right away.
"Good evening, Basil and Anna!" A brusque, elderly male voice cut through the tranquil silence. "Is that stew I smell? Mmmm!"
Gray facepalmed. "Aaaand of course, Gramps decides to scream his lungs out."
"Mr. Saibara sure can be loud when he wants to be," Mary said.
Loud was an understatement. Saibara was seventy five years old, but he could yell up a storm if he was angry enough. Hearing his raspy yelling was the last thing Gray wanted, and on a day like today, no less. Thankfully, the yelling died down, and the thumping of gentle footsteps ascended the stairs. Anna poked her head into Mary's room with a smile.
"Dinner's ready. Come on down," Anna told them, gesturing for them to follow her.
Befitting for a table of five, Anna had prepared a grand feast. A crockpot had been filled to the brim with piping hot stew, consisting of carrots, potatoes, onions, and ground chicken in broth. She had also made soft, chewy garlic bread knots, putting them in a woven basket and covering them with a green cloth to preserve their warmth. Dollops of white mashed potatoes dotted everyone's plates, soft to the touch. Gray had to admit, he was impressed by all the food she had made. Unfortunately, one part of the dinner made him recoil in disgust: boiled spinach. If there was any food that Gray hated more than anything, it was spinach. It was so leafy, bland, and drippy on his tongue, and chewing on it made him feel like he was eating herbs straight off the ground.
Good thing Anna put the spinach in a separate bowl, allowing anyone who wanted some to pick it for themselves. Gray wasted no time picking everything but the spinach. Carrots and potatoes were plenty healthy as far as he was concerned. He sat between Mary and Basil, starting off by taking bites out of the garlic knots. His taste buds were immediately graced with a warm, pleasant softness. He found himself lost in his food, unable to do much except listen to Basil telling Saibara and Anna a funny story. Something about being chased by a horde of bees when trying to pick some rare wildflowers for his research. One would think any botanist would know better than to disturb a beehive by wearing a tall hat that would graze it.
"So Gray," Anna ended the conversation by switching over to Gray. "How's life in the smithy been treating you?"
"It's...been fine," Gray replied a little sheepishly. Did she really have to mention the smithy? Gray had been hoping a subject like that wouldn't be discussed at someone else's dinner.
Anna flashed a friendly smile in his direction. "Mary's been wearing that necklace you made for her all the time."
Mary turned red as she ate some mashed potatoes. Gray turned around, seeing the necklace in question. A small, silver pendant with an amethyst in the middle, with her initials engraved on the back. He had made it for her on Valentine's Day. Had she really been wearing it non-stop since he gave it to her? Considering she was wearing it right now, that had to mean something. Still, his chest tightened upon seeing it, and a lump formed in his throat. What could he possibly say to that?
"Don't be embarrassed, Mary," Her father, Basil, reassured, waving a fork that still had a carrot on it. "I think it looks great on you," He turned towards Gray. "Thanks for makin' it for her, Gray. She really loves it."
"I...I'm glad," Gray finally managed to push something out, though he went right back to eating his stew.
Saibara cleared his throat before speaking. "In my day, my parents always taught me to respect women and treat them the way I want to be treated," He explained in his rough, aging voice. "'Women are people, not objects,' my father would always say. The smithy wouldn't be where it is today if it weren't for my wife Satoko, rest her soul."
Satoko...Gray's grandmother's name. He had only met her a few times in his life, the last time being when he was in 8th grade. But he did like her a lot. She was lively and strong-willed, never letting anything or anyone walk all over her. Her peers would say she was far ahead of her time: preferring to wear pants and sweaters instead of fancy dresses and skirts, working in a forge and getting down and dirty instead of marrying, having children, and staying at home. She did eventually marry, but Gray remembered her telling him that she married on her own terms and because she loved Saibara, not because it was her so-called duty as a woman to cater to a man's needs and create children for the sake of meeting society's rigid expectations. The corners of Gray's mouth turned upward upon reminiscing.
"Yeah. Grandma was great," Gray said, his voice not as tense or nervous this time. "I think you'd have really liked her, Mary. She loved reading. Some of her favorite authors where Charles Dickens, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Jane Austen, and the Bronte sisters."
Immediately, Mary's cobalt eyes lit up, like a light switch had been turned on. "Did she, really? That's amazing!" Of course the topic of books would light her up. She wasn't a bookworm for nothing, and Gray loved seeing that bright smile on her face. Why did she have to be so cute? "I wonder if she liked Jane Eyre?"
"She did," Gray answered right away.
"Oh!" Anna's hands clasped together. "The other day, Manna and I had read Wuthering Heights together and we had talked about it all afternoon," Her mouth pressed into a thin line. Gray could see that she looked a little miffed. "I must say, I can't fathom what everyone sees in Heathcliff. He treats everyone like they're his personal pawns and always acts like a petulant child if he doesn't get his way!"
"I know, right?" Mary took the time to throw herself into the conversation. "Everyone I talk to online fawn over him and see him as the perfect guy, but he's really anything but!" Gary flinched at the sudden passion that Mary exuded. It was so jarring to see her go from sweet and shy to talkative and passionate. But Gray didn't mind. It was better than gossiping about whoever was doing what in Mineral Town every single day. He liked that about Mary: Unlike most people he knew, she never found the need to stick her nose in other people's' business and always had something interesting to talk about. The two women went on for quite a while before Gray diverted the conversation.
"Your stew is very good, Mrs. Boatwright," Gray told her. "Thanks."
Touched by his compliment, Anna lit up. "You're so welcome, Gray!" She enthused, her cheeks turning a light dust of pink. "I'm so happy you like it! We have seconds if you ever want to have some more."
Basil had a quick taste of the chicken before commenting, "Mmm! I sure am glad you suggested I put parsley in here. It really brings out the flavor."
"My mother used to plant parsley when I was a boy," Saibara chimed in, having helped himself to a garlic knot. "She had a kitchen garden in our backyard and she always grew vegetables and herbs all through the year."
Both Mary and Gray giggled when the conversation changed yet again. "Are you enjoying yourself, Gray?" Mary asked. "Sorry if Mother and Father can be a little...too forward."
"No no. It's fine," Gray said, finishing up his mashed potatoes. "I'm happy you invited me here today. I like listening to you guys."
"I'm glad."
Enjoying himself was putting it mildly. Usually, dinner at his house consisted of him and Saibara at the table, not doing a whole lot of talking unless it involved Saibara grumbling about something. His grandfather wasn't much of a cook, so he never made anything fancy, not that Gray minded all that much. But Gray always felt like he was trapped at the dinner table with his grandfather. For all he knew, Saibara would probably scold him about something, like how he arrived two minutes late or how he complained about wanting to make something other than a copper plate yet again. It just wasn't a time for them to relax and really have a good time. The Boatwright house, on the other hand, had a warm, welcoming atmosphere that made Gray feel like he had stepped into a merry dreamland. Basil, Anna, and Mary talked to each other about anything and everything with smiles on their faces, eating good food and enjoying themselves. There was no fear, no hesitation, no artifice anywhere in sight. As much as he hated to admit it, Gray was a bit jealous. These nice people knew how to make dinner into a lively affair.
Having finished his dinner, Gray prepared to stand up from his eat until his grandfather's voice made him freeze.
"Are you finished, Gray?" Saibara asked. But Gray noticed his voice was low and threatening. He didn't sense any genuine curiosity. It was more like he was scrutinizing him or insinuating something. What was he going to complain about this time? He knew what this was going to lead to.
Gray clenched his teeth. "Yes, Gramps," He turned to Anna. "Do you want me to put this in the dishwasher, ma'am?"
"If you would, yes. I'd appreciate it," Anna said.
"You didn't eat any of Anna's spinach," Saibara pointed out.
Of course he was going to point out the spinach. Gray shook his head, unsurprised. Did his grandfather really have to be so anal about everything? "I'm not the biggest fan of spinach, Gramps. You know that," Gray told him, his voice stone hard, taking care not to shout or lose his temper. The last thing he wanted was to make a scene, not that he really wanted to do so to begin with. Gray took his plate and made his way to the kitchen, hoping the conversation would end there.
It didn't.
"Spinach is good for you, Gray!" Saibara exclaimed. "Don't disrespect your hosts by being picky about what you eat!"
"Saibara, it's fine," Anna held her hand up, gesturing for him to stop. "If he doesn't like it, he doesn't have to eat it," She told him firmly. "That's why I made lots of different things today, so everyone can eat what they wish. It's no big deal."
As much as he appreciated Anna trying to rectify the situation-he mentally thanked her in his head-Gray could still feel the twinge of anger coiling inside him as he rinsed his plate. Of all the days his grandfather had to treat him like some troublemaker, it had to be today. It was bad enough being constantly hounded about how 'disrespectful' or 'ungrateful' or 'defiant' he was at the smithy. But here? At the Boatwright house? All he did was choose not to eat spinach. Why did his grandfather have to make it into such a big deal? And he knew Gray hated boiled spinach. Gray hated it ever since he was a kid and would likely hate it until the day he died. Anna and Basil didn't mind, so why should he?
"My parents always made me eat whatever was on the plate," Saibara quipped. "I had to eat every last bite of whatever they made, even if I hated it. That was how it was back in my day. Nobody cut any corners. We couldn't afford to waste food, considering the war was going on at that time."
Rebellion mounted within him. Couldn't his grandfather shut up about what life was like back in his day for two seconds? Was this his way of mocking him for not being perfect? Despite his best efforts, Gray couldn't keep it in anymore.
"This isn't the 1940s, Gramps!" Gray told him tersely, his voice as hard as his blue eyes. The words came out before Gray could try to stop them. "Things are different now, and quit making the whole spinach thing into a big issue! Jeez!"
All was silent. All eyes were on him. Gray's resolve wavered. Great. Now he had embarrassed himself and his grandfather. Too angry to pretend he was anything but, he put his plate in the dishwasher and headed for the living room.
"Thank you for dinner, Mother," Mary said before doing the same.
Soon, Mary had joined him and they shared the couch. The adults were left to their own devices, staying in the dining room, since they hadn't finished their meals yet. Mary stole a glance at Gray, and that was enough to tell her he was in a poor mood. His fists rested on his knees, clenched tightly, trembling, and he had his lips pressed in a firm line, so much so that they almost turned white. Mary knew Saibara was very tough on Gray. She had seen him scold his grandson many times first hand. But she had interacted with him a few times and he was always friendly to her, so he wasn't a bad person. Not only that, Saibara grew up in a different time and was set in his ways, so of course he'd be strict. But she could see that his ways had been putting a strain on Gray for a long while. She wished there was something she could do to make things easier, and hated feeling so helpless.
"Sorry about earlier," Gray lowered his voice to a whisper. "I just hate that he constantly has to make a big deal out of everything I do, even stuff not worth making a fuss about."
"I know," Mary told him reassuringly, putting a hand on his trembling fist. "It's alright. Mother knows you don't like boiled spinach and I told her such. She mostly made it for Father and Saibara, so we don't mind at all, for what it's worth."
"I still wish he hadn't come. I constantly feel like I'm being watched and judged whenever he goes anywhere with me. I know that sounds rude to say, but…"
"It's alright. I understand."
Another good thing he liked about Mary: She listened to him without judgment and never dismissed his feelings. He wished there were more girls like her in Mineral Town. To be fair, Gray did love his grandfather. Who wouldn't love their family? There were times when they did get along fairly well when they weren't working in the smithy. But Saibara never cared much for being openly affectionate with anyone and was still very much set in his ways. Plus, would it kill him to not point out all of Gray's flaws every chance he got?
"Would you like to go outside for a bit?" Mary suggested. "The stars are really pretty tonight."
Outside...maybe some fresh air would help calm him down a bit. Gray stood up. "Sure. Why not?"
Mary was right. The night sky was a deep, vibrant blue, dotted with millions of stars, crowned by a full white moon. The street lights had long since lit up, so it wasn't entirely dark, but Mary and Gray could still see the stars clear as day. Gray liked the night time. It was quiet, for one, and it was usually the best time of day to do whatever he wanted, like read a book or watch TV. But here he was, standing on Mary's front porch, right next to her, watching the stars. Gray could feel the lingering anger slowly leaving his system as he stared up at the sea of stars. It helped that the big dinner he had earlier was enough to completely satiate any hunger that he had.
"The night sure is beautiful, isn't it?" Mary said in a low, dream-like whisper, marveling at the majestic scenery before her.
A smile tickled his visage. "It sure is...though why do they call it the Starry Night Festival when it isn't really a festival?" Gray wondered aloud.
"I don't know. I'll have to look it up later," Mary replied, joining her hands together. "But whatever it's called, it's still nice, though."
"Yeah. I did have a nice time tonight. Thanks for dinner."
"You're welcome."
He wished this moment would go on forever. Standing on the front porch with Mary, watching the beautiful night sky in its glorious splendor, not having to deal with annoying people who always complained and made him feel inadequate despite his best efforts...Gray wished time would just stop right here. But he knew life wasn't like that, and as much as he hated it, he knew today had to end sooner or later. He did remind himself that it wasn't the end of the world. He could still see her at the library whenever he wasn't working, and it wasn't like his grandfather forbade him from seeing her. Oddly enough, Saibara actually liked Mary. So it wasn't all bad. Gray hated being so pessimistic all the time, and didn't want to spend his days being sad and mad at everything.
Eventually, the adults finished their meal, and Saibara and Gray found themselves leaving. "Thanks for coming, you two!" Mary waved at them as they walked down the street. "Come by and visit again!"
"I will!" Gray shouted back, waving an arm in her direction as he left.
No words passed between grandfather and grandson as they made their way back to the smithy. Then again, Saibara wasn't known for being the talkative type. Gray shrugged. Was his grandfather angry with him for earlier? Maybe planning to punish him when they got back? Or was he just lost in his thoughts? Gray could never tell. His grandfather's expression barely changed much, though angry seemed to be his default expression a lot of the time. Gray never did manage to read him, not that he really wanted to. Still, he hated the thought of ending this wonderful night with the Boatwrights angry.
"...Mary really likes the necklace you made her," Saibara finally spoke up. "Her mother says she wears it every single day."
For once, Gray smiled. "Yeah. She does. I was so afraid she wouldn't."
"I'm...proud of you, Gustavo. Maybe next time, we can invite her over and treat her to a nice meal. A warm taste of home," Saibara mused out loud. "I'm not much of a cook, though. I'm better with metal."
Gray stopped in his tracks, unable to stop the ungraceful dropping of his jaw. He heard a warmth in his grandfather's voice that he hadn't heard in a long time. Ever since he was little, to be more specific. Was he...proud? Gray didn't dare let his thoughts go that far. Surely this was some kind of trick, right? It had to be. His grandfather was praising him? His shock began to morph into pride. For so long, Gray had worked tirelessly to earn his approval, but nothing he ever did seemed to make him happy. Perhaps learning that Mary genuinely loved his gift was what did it. Nevertheless, Gray couldn't stop himself from smiling like a loon.
"I bet she'd like that," Gray said, referring to Saibara's idea to invite her to dinner next time. "She likes vegetables, so maybe you can make vegetable soup."
"That's good to know."
"And, uh...thanks. Sorry for earlier."
Saibara cleared his throat. "You'll be workin' the forge tomorrow, so I won't go easy on you, even if you are my grandson," He said. "You better work hard."
For once, Gray didn't bemoan having to work. His grandfather had genuinely praised him for something! Tonight didn't turn out to be a big disaster after all. Everything had turned out better than he had ever imagined.
"Yes sir!" Gray beamed with pride, skipping back home, completely on cloud nine.
On this fine night, the Starry Night Festival was an absolute success, and Gray couldn't have been happier. Unbeknownst to him, Saibara was smiling as he watched his grandson skip merrily towards the smithy. It wasn't just that Gray had worked hard over the past few months and deserved some reprieve. It was from seeing his grandson have a genuinely good time at his friend's house and watching him become more of the man Gray himself wanted to be.
For that, he was proud of him.