Social Dynamics
"This is stupid, Maru," Sebastian complained, "You don't have to help me." His younger sister stood precariously on a stool, holding up several different curtain panels so that Sebastian could better see how they would look. "I feel weird enough about this," he grumbled.
Maru shook her head, "You're being silly, Sebastian. Just choose something!" she teetered back and forth, but regained her balance after lowering her center of gravity.
Sebastian grabbed his sister's wrist and yanked her down to fall on the bed, rather than the floor. "You're going to break your neck or something and mom and Demetrius are going to blame me." The last thing he needed was for Maru to do something to hurt herself and get the heat for it.
The younger sister scowled at her brother, "I'm not a child anymore, Sebastian," she sighed, trying to untangle herself from the curtain panels. But Maru could not help but smile just a little bit, noticing how Sebastian was acting like an older brother. He had his own way of caring. "Could you at least pick something? You can change it later if you don't like it."
The black-haired man groaned and slumped to sit on the now-vacant stool. "You insisted on helping. Narrow it down for me!" he plead. Maru scoffed at how her brother balked at a little decision in interior decorating. She noticed for the first time that he seemed more exhausted than usual, but not in physical sort of way.
"What did you and Sam do for the last two days that made you so grumpy?" Maru inquired, finally freeing herself from the swaths of fabric and standing up to get a better look at things. She continued to peruse through to give Sebastian a few options. Maru figured the standard 5-3-1 method might work well here and that is where she would start.
"It's none of your damn business," Sebastian insisted with a growl, crossing his arms over his chest, and putting his feet up on the frame of his bed.
Maru glanced over at him, her red rims glinting in the sunlight that now filtered into the room. "You know, the last time you were honest about your feelings, people listened and you got something good out of it," she told him as a not-so-subtle hint. She separated a deep red curtain to match the computer desk stools and a green to match the ones at the gaming table from the pile.
Sebastian chewed on the dead skin on his lips, contemplating Maru's point. "I don't wanna owe anyone anything..." he finally said.
His sister exhaled deeply, as she pulled a dark grey panel that matched the couch and comforter on Sebastian's bed as a third curtain option. "How many times do I have to tell you that's not how family is supposed to work?"
The young man huffed in exasperation, "You say that, but that doesn't change the fact that it feels like a debt," he explained. "I get what you're trying to do with the windows and the 'sibling bonding' time, but things aren't gonna change over night."
Maru nodded in understanding, as she plucked a white curtain to add some brightness to the room and a purple that matched the lighter tone of the rug on the floor. "I get that, but I also get that I'm not mom or dad and siblings are supposed to be able to talk to each other like confidants about things we might not normally talk about with them, right?" she gathered her five options and laid them out on Sebastian's bed for him to see better. "It seems like Sam and Vincent get each other out of trouble quite a bit from what I hear from Penny." She turned to her brother and smirked, "Besides, I have this sneaking suspicion that you didn't hang out with just Sam the entire time."
The corners of his mouth dropped, "What do you know?" he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
Without looking at him, the younger of the two simply said, "You willingly stayed out for two days. You're such an introvert that I doubt that would have been easy for you. Do you really expect me to believe you did not try to leave at some point? Sam's a terrible liar and you might have caught on that something was up." Maru finally turned to face her brother, "Besides, you twitch a little when you smile, so either you've developed some weird tic or your face hurts for some reason. Since I doubt you developed a tic in the last two days and you have no visible injuries, like a bruise from a punch, I suspect your muscles are simply tired from strain."
Sebastian squirmed uncomfortable in his seat. His sister was too smart for her own good. And since when had she been so concerned with his private life? "So?"
His sister sat on the bed, her elbows on her knees, and her chin resting in her palms. "So who made you smile so much, Sebby? I doubt it was Sam..."
"I don't want white. It's too bright," the young man said, indicating to the curtain panel, obviously trying to change the subject. "And no more grey-black, either. I've got enough of that with the stone, the computers, and the other stuff in the room."
Maru decided to play along for now, "Great! Now we're down to three: red, green, and purple." She draped them over her arms and t-posed so he could visualize it better without getting on top of something and risking a fall. "Which one speaks to you?"
Her older brother rolled his eyes, "Do we have to do this now?" he complained. Sebastian was so social exhausted, he did not want to be around people right now.
The brunette tilted her head to the side, "Well, if you don't choose, you're going to have light coming in at all hours, something to which you are not accustomed. But if you insist on changing the subject, we could talk about how you and Violet were seen leaving Gus' together last night."
Sebastian froze, knowing she had been caught him. "We were just getting food," he relented. "That's all it was."
"Of course," Maru agreed. "I was not implying anything, I just don't understand why you feel the need to hide it." The young woman poked at her brother's side. "Unless something happened that you're ashamed or embarrassed about..."
"I just got pissed at Sam and Abigail after Vince's party and she offered me somewhere to stay. That's it!" Sebastian shouted defensively.
"Huh," Maru mused, tapping her finger to her cheek. "So what made you so angry at your best friends that made you want to hang out with a stranger?"
The black-clad man shifted on his stool, "Violet's not a complete stranger anymore," he muttered reluctantly. "We... talk."
Maru's cheeked puffed out and she covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to contain her mirth. Her brother did not notice, since he was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. This was going much better than expected! Now to see what I can find out... "I'm glad you have a new friend, big bro," Maru said. "It's good to see you looking happier."
His dark eyes glanced her way, "I look... happier to you?" he questioned, genuinely puzzled. What had he done to indicate that?
The brunette laughed quietly, "Well, as much as one can in 48 hours, I suppose. I actually saw your lips curve upward ever so slightly since you came home." She put down the light jade curtain, thinking it did not suit her brother much. "You used to hate me so much you would hardly look at me."
Sebastian sighed deeply. "I - I don't hate you," he began hesitantly, "I just don't know how to deal with you." He paused and brushed his bangs out of his face, trying to organize his thoughts. "I know you're the favorite. If I fuck up around you, I look worse by comparison, and I feel even more like a failure." The young man rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the floor. "And I can't stand Demetrius' commentary about what a fucking failure I am. As if I don't already know!"
Maru grimaced sympathetically, "That's not true Sebastian," she assured him. "And mom and I had a talk with dad about how he speaks to you and jumps to negative conclusions whenever you're involved."
"That's great, or whatever," her brother countered, "but it sucks because it feels true." His dark eyes finally stole a look at his sister's face. "You've got good things going for you. You've got a job people respect, you're smart and build you own gadgets, you do well with other people." He broke the eye contact and stared out his new window. "Me? I have projects I work on for money, but it's nothing stable. I never went to college and I don't feel comfortable talking to others face-to-face. I have nothing going for me."
Maru stood up and approached him. She could try to argue his point of view until she were blue in the face, but there was really no point. This was how Sebastian saw the world, she reminded herself. She put her hands on her brother's shoulders and said, "And yet... you've found something to smile about lately." She straightened back up and pointed toward the two remaining curtain options on the bed, "Now pick! You're driving me crazy with your indecisiveness."
Sebastian blinked, caught off guard by Maru's words. "Uh..." he stumbled, unsure of what to choose.
"There is no wrong answer, Seb," his sister assured him. "It's whatever you want, it's your room!"
"Fine! I'll go with violet," he informed Maru, who immediately broke out in a wide grin.
"I thought you might," the brunette said, clearly satisfied with herself. "It not only matches the rug on your floor, it's the same color as her hair, too, isn't it?" she said, sliding the curtain onto the rod and stretching upward to put it on the hooks.
The young man immediately flushed pink, realizing what he had done now that it reached his ears and from Maru's reaction. "You did that on purpose!" he shouted, pointing an accusing finger at his younger sister.
Maru shrugged, "I might have been hoping for this result, but I purposefully never referred to the color as 'violet.' That would compromise the results," the scientist admitted. "You provided the association all on your own, Mr. Freudian Slip." She hopped down from the bed and used a stool to climb up to add the second curtain over the bookshelf.
"I change my mind! I want the red ones," Sebastian insisted, clearly alarmed by the effectiveness of his sister's tricks.
Maru got down from the stool immediately. "What, to bring out the red on your face whenever she comes to visit?" Maru countered, holding the ruby curtain next to his face for comparison. "I'm sure you'll look great, big bro." The woman realized she was having way too much fun watching her brother squirm and decided to end her fun there. She did not want to antagonize him, after all.
"I'll put them up myself!" Sebastian exclaimed, shooing her out of his room. "Go away!" Maru gathered up the spare curtains that had already been eliminated and allowed herself to be push toward the door.
"I'll give these mom to return to the shop inventory," Maru said, opening the door to leave. "And I'll be back to collect the red ones once you stop being such a dork." She closed the door behind her and the young man listened until her footsteps.
Once Sebastian was convinced his sister had actually gone upstairs, he turned to face the fabric on his bed. The rectangles mocked him, just laying there, looking perfectly innocent until people foisted their own ideas onto them. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shake off how flustered he felt, but his mind wandered to Violet. "Fuck," he cursed to himself, as he saw her face in his mind's eye. "Maru's right... It's the same color." No wonder it looked familiar. He sighed, sitting down on his bed to thread the purple curtain through the rod and stood on a stood to affix it in the correct position. It did also match one of the shades of the floor rug, so it was not completely out of place. Sebastian had to agree that it looked nicely put together. "Maybe she won't notice..." Sebastian muttered to himself hopefully.
As he grudgingly put up the second panel, he noticed the window sill would be a good place to put some of the things he did not want his mother to throw away they next time she snooped in his room. Maybe he could smoke with the window open, too. Sebastian had to admit he had been a bit more on edge since he had not smoked last night. No wonder he had been so hungry. He quickly realized that the window sill jutted out too far to allow him to comfortably lean out the open window to smoke and not get the fumes in the house. Did they do that on purpose? He sighed, knowing he would still have to go outside by the lake to smoke. It did give him a bit of time outside alone with his thoughts, though. Sometimes he needed that time of contemplation. Usually it was to sort out ideas for a programming project, or when he was going to finally muster enough courage to tell Abigail how he felt. Well, he was down that particular train of thought now.
Sebastian grabbed his open pack of cigarettes and left the house toward the lake. Just one quick smoke, he told himself.
Shane completed all of his work duties several hours early that day and hoped that with the upcoming festival tomorrow that would showcase his hens' eggs, he would be allowed to leave early. He approached his direct supervisor, a red-head named Cheryl, who worked the cash register. "Hey, are you coming to the Egg Festival tomorrow?" he asked her, trying to ease into his request. While he knew he could not make his case to Cheryl without chatting her up for a bit, he would have to be quick before Morris showed his ugly face. That guy would never allow him to leave early.
Cheryl looked bored, "No, I'll be working right here," she replied, pointing down at the floor on which she stood. "Even if I wasn't working, though, I wouldn't come all the way out here on my day off. I'm only at this tiny branch store because they needed someone with experience." The woman seemed annoyed that corporate had decided to expand into a small town like this. It was clearly interrupting her social life in the city.
"Well, my hens are laying all the eggs and I need to get them to some people in town to get everything prepared in time," Shane informed his supervisor. "Since I finished all my work early, do you mind if I duck out of here?"
The woman eyed him suspiciously,"You got everything done?" she crossed her arms. "You know Morris always says there's more to do once the regularly assigned work is complete." She leaned in closer, resting her forearms on the counter. "So why should I let you go?"
Ugh, what was with these city people? Or maybe it was because they were Joja people... Who knows? Shane, who had been expecting this potential problem, simply stated, "I'm hourly. The less time I'm here, the less you all have to pay me, right?" He gestured to the shelves. "Everything is re-stocked and I'm willing to leave rather than waste company time and money. Isn't that worth something?"
Cheryl considered this for a moment, glancing at the shelves to confirm that the products had been replenished. "Very well, Shane. Go tend to your... chickens," she relented without hiding her disgust for the animals.
"Thanks, Cheryl!" Before the woman could change her mind, Shane headed back to the break room to grab his things and exit out the back, where Morris was unlikely to see him leave. He was not about to let that bow-tied bastard keep him from his brood with the Egg Festival tomorrow. As he exited Joja Mart and crossed the bridge into the main section of town, Shane realized he felt much lighter than he had this morning. Was it because he got away with leaving early? Or maybe it was because the Egg Festival felt like his day. The day when the whole town came together and appreciated the product of the hens he raised all on his was still a lot of time left in the day.
"Here I come, Charlie!" he announced to the sky, heading home with a bit more pep in his step.
Emily began her shift at The Stardrop Saloon like she did every afternoon, cleaning glasses and wiping down counters to make sure they were spotless. A clean space is a happy place, she told herself, winking at her own reflection of the glossy wood of the bar. "Good afternoon!" the blue-haired woman said in greeting to their most frequent customer. Pam shouted back and ordered her usual.
Gus had a rule about Pam's drinks that Emily must follow: the greater the tab, the weaker the beer. The woman had not paid for her drinks in at least a month and she came to The Stardrop Saloon every night. So, of course, Emily had to make the alcohol quite weak compared to the usual product. The barkeep had become skilled at watering down Pam's beers without the customers noticing. Part of the young woman had to wonder how Pam didn't notice. Had she lost her sense of taste anyway? It was hard to tell with Pam. All Emily knew was that Penny's mother had a smoky grey aura that, despite her volume when she spoke, gave off a dull glow. The barkeep honestly worried for Pam and Emily hoped a job would open up for her soon. It must be hard to be out of work for so long.
But the person who worried Emily the most had not yet arrived. She had her own rules about Shane, but they were not because Gus instructed her how to behave. Shane's aura had been getting darker and more opaque in the last few weeks. Sure, Pam's illness with addiction was concerning, but there was more to it with Shane. The intensiveness of his despair alarmed her. The woman swept a few stray stands of hair from her face, wondering if something happened recently to explain the change.
Abigail entered and raised her hand in greeting before she headed over to her usual spot in the game room. Emily could respect that not everyone cared for alcohol. She only liked the drinks that had bright, bold colors and strong fruity tastes. It was a shame Gus did not have more of a variety for her to experiment.
After Sam entered and shouted his "hello," Shane arrived. Emily started filling his pint before he reached the bar. "I guess we made it to the weekend," Shane said leaning on the counter, trying to make small talk. He lifted two baskets of eggs onto the counter. "Final delivery for the week. You know what to do with them, Emily."
Emily smiled at him, handing him his drink. "Of course, dyeing the eggs is my favorite part of the Egg Festival!"
The unkempt man smiled, though his eyes did not do the same. The barkeep's heart sank a bit, but she tried to keep things on a positive note. "So how are your chickens doing, Shane? I'm sure they've been extra busy all week."
Shane nodded in agreement, "Yeah, the hens do great work for the Egg Festival. I'll have to spoil them tomorrow when it's all over," he added, this time the corners of his eyes were in harmony with his mouth. Emily relaxed a bit, realizing that she had gotten through the dense fog of his depressing aura to speak to the person at its core. "I'm sure Gus has been busy getting ready for the festival, too."
The woman in the red dress laughed, "Oh, you know Gus. He's been doing all his prep work well in advance, but that does not stop him from worrying over nothing." She stole a quick look toward the back as Gus' head popped out from the doorway.
"It wouldn't be 'nothing' if the food weren't up to par!" the mustached man countered, waving a piping bag stuffed with deviled egg filling in Emily's general direction. "The food's always the most important part of a festival, besides the people, of course." He grabbed the larger of the two baskets Shane brought and nodded his approval at the weightiness of the container.
"Here's to good food!" Shane raised his glass slightly and toasted the bar owner's sentiment. "Don't go wasting any of my hens' hard work, Gus," he scolded as the older man carried his basket toward the back of the saloon.
Gus grumbled theatrically, "Well if you young folk would let me work, there would no risk of that!" he hollered back, disappearing into the kitchen once again.
Shane did crack a slight smile at Gus' exaggerated performance. Emily felt a bit relieved. Shane seemed to be in a better mood today than he had been the last few weeks. Maybe it was the upcoming festival. It was the time of year for the local poultryman to show off a bit.
The chicken keeper moved to his regular spot between the bar and the fireplace and Emily followed him on her side of the counter to chat. "How are Charlie and the rest of the hens?"
Shane seemed slightly surprised, "Hey, you remembered Charlie's name," he noticed aloud, taking a sip of his beer.
"Of course, she seems important to you," Emily replied. "Your eyes get a little twinkle in them when you talk about your birds," she thought it was sweet how proud he was of his hens.
Shane shifted uncomfortably at the attention. "I wouldn't call it a twinkle..." he muttered, embarrassed.
Her red lips stretched in a smile, "Call it whatever you want," Emily said, cleaning a glass from behind the counter. "It's wonderful to see you passionate about your work!" she told her friend.
"My work?" Shane repeated, considering her words. Sure, caring for his chickens made him happier than working at Joja, but it wasn't enough to make a living in a small town and he was not interested in expanding to house thousands of chickens like the giant corporate farms. His hens deserved the best. Once again, he got the short end of the stick because he could not compete as a small business. The things he cared about were not a valuable enough contribution to society. He sighed, "Yeah... my work," he repeated, feeling down again. Shane down the rest of his beer and handed it to Emily. "Another beer, please."
Violet had finished all her chores around the farm for the day and had been playing with Bruno and Dusty when she realized she had not checked her mail in a few days. Luckily, it seemed as if she had not missed much, since the two items in the box were dated from that morning. Examining letters further, she noticed one was from Mayor Lewis and the other from Robin. Violet read the Mayor's first.
Dear Violet,
Tomorrow we're holding the Egg Festival in the town square.
You should arrive between 9 AM and 2 PM if you'd like to attend.
You wouldn't want to miss the annual egg hunt!
- Mayor Lewis
Huh, an egg hunt. The farmer had liked those as a child, but since Jas and Vincent were the only children in town, perhaps they allowed everyone to participate. Violet hoped that the adults were at least courteous enough to let the little ones win. The young woman though that kids needed that kind of confidence boost once and a while. Either way, it was good to know that she should get things done right away tomorrow so she would not miss out on her first festival as a resident of Pelican Town.
The next letter was simply a help request. Robin had apparently lost her favorite axe and wanted some assistance looking for it. The last time she remembered using it was when when cut wood south of Marnie's ranch. She looked at the sky and the sun was well above her head. Violet decided she had plenty of time before it was time to head to The Stardrop Saloon.
It took longer than Violet expected to find the axe, but it was in a relatively obscure location. The female farmer supposed that was why Robin could not find it again once she had lost it. Covering the blade with some fabric, Violet tucked the tool away in her bag and returned home to get cleaned up for the evening.
The young woman decided to wear her hair down for the rest of the day, since she had already performed all the tasks that would get her sweaty. Violet also packed the black shirt that Maru lent her. If she was going to be returning items, she may as well give them back all at once. Especially since both of them lived under the same roof. She pet both Bruno and Dusty and gave them each a treat before she headed out toward town. "You doggos enjoy yourselves!" Violet called after them, as the trotted off toward one of the pine grove.
It did not take long to get to the Saloon since she was well rested that day. Violet wanted to make sure to make her rounds before heading over to the pool table, either way. She had a brief chat with Willy before she approached Shane.
"I hardly know you," he said, taking a swig from his pint as she stood in front of him. "Why are you talking to me?" Shane demanded to know.
"Uh... because that's how you get to know people?" Violet offered, somewhat confused by the hostility. Who spit in his drink? she thought.
"Better for you to know me as the unfriendly guy than the town drunk, then," Shane shot back, somewhat sarcastically.
Violet was fairly certain that the role of town alcoholic was technically embodied by Pam, but she did not want to make light of the situation. So, the farmer simply said, "If that's what you want, dude."
Shane growled in frustration, "It's not what I want, it's just all I'll ever amount to!" he threw up his hands in exasperation. "Now go away!"
The farmer obeyed, but posed a question in before she left, "Says who?" Violet then immediately darted away to sit with Leah.
Emily saw Shane's jaw clench as he looked down at his reflection in his drink. "Says me, I guess..." The barkeep leaned over the bar and beckoned him closer. Shane reluctantly obeyed his friend. "What now?" he sighed.
The blue-haired woman snatched the pint from his hand and set it down on the counter top of the bar. "You're the only one who says that stuff to yourself, Shane. We all believe in you - ask anybody in town!" she insisted. "Please stop with this talk, your aura has been so bleak lately." She paused, putting a hand on his arm, "I worry."
Shane's gaze was stuck to the floor, "Fine..." he finally agreed. "I'll do my best."
The bartender straightened up, looking serious. "Now go apologize!" Emily ordered, pointing her thumb toward the table where Leah and Violet sat.
The chicken keeper shook his head and grabbed his glass off the counter, "Don't push things, Emily. I'll get there when I get there."
"So at the festival tomorrow?" the young woman suggested.
A deep sigh escaped from Shane. "Fine, if she's there tomorrow, I'll apologize."
Emily beamed, "That's my Shane!" she said cheerfully, patting him on the shoulder.
Violet had decided to eat with Leah and Elliott again this week before joining the others for the rematch in the game room. While the topic of last week's conversation had been focused on her, Violet figured it would be less likely since the farmer was more established as a resident of the town.
"So how's your hand?" Leah asked, inquiring about the nettle sting Violet had from their foraging lesson.
Violet rolled her eyes at her own impatience that led to the injury, "It's fine now. Granny Mullner got it all wrapped up for me and it looked much better the next morning."
"You know, I don't really talk to Evelyn much, but I always love the flower beds she maintains around town," Leah told her friends. "She sounds like a sweet old lady."
Elliott chimed in, "Well, her husband is absolutely horrid," he said adamantly. "He cannot help but wag his tongue in complaint every time he opens that ancient mouth of his. After all that his devoted wife does for him!" The long-haired man seemed appalled by George's sour demeanor. "My, if I had a lovely wife beside me for as long as Ms. Evelyn has been by Mr. George's side, I would be entirely gracious!"
"You're always gracious," Leah poked at her best friend, piercing several leaves and topping in her salad to get the perfect bite. "And you sound entirely too polite when you insult someone's character!"
Elliott scoffed and adjusted the knot of his green tie slightly. "Did I not say that he was horrid and ungrateful?"
Leah nodded, "Yes, but the insulting bits get buried in all your other words complimenting Evelyn!" she laughed. "That's why a lot of people don't know how to handle you, Elliott."
"I cannot help that many people have lost the art of eloquent speech," Elliott responded, sipping his wine. "It is as if one cannot be bothered to be creatively expressive anymore."
Violet smirked at her food at the bickering. It reminded her of how she and Bex used to interact. Not in the same way, as neither of them were like Leah or Elliott, but the dynamic was certainly there. "Well, you're an author, Elliott," the farmer stated, "Leah is a sculptor, so words are not her medium of expression." She gestured to each person at the table, "We all express ourselves in the way we dress, too. You - like your wonderfully flowery language - dress more like the wealthy, desirable men in any Jane Austen novel - just with more hair. Leah has a 90s lesbian aesthetic going on with the bare midriff and suspenders, and I... wear a t-shirt and jeans," Violet finished rather sheepishly, not really sure how to describe her attire any other way.
"H-how did you know?" Leah inquired a bit thrown off by the accurate read on her sexuality.
Violet tilted her head, obviously confused, "Know what?"
Elliott chimed in, placing a hand on Leah's. "What my dear friend is trying to ask is how you knew she holds romantic feelings for those of the feminine persuasion."
"Elliott!" Leah shouted, angrily. "You don't just out people like that!"
The man looked puzzled, "You had already done so by asking Ms. Violet how she knew." His dark brown eyes glanced down at Leah, "So unless you harbor a burning desire to woo our new companion, I see no reason to be so upset."
"That's not it, it's just not okay to clarify if someone did not understand the question!" Leah objected, batting his hand off of her own.
Violet blinked, unsure of what to say. She looked back and forth between the two until something clicked. "Oh, okay, so you're a lesbian?" she finally said, directing her question toward Leah. The floral-haired woman seemed oddly pleased, "That was mainly commentary on your attire, but hey, I was right!" Violet chuckled to herself at a memory, "My gaydar is terrible. I had a huge crush on cute guy my freshman year and he had to literally explain to it me that I was barking up the wrong tree."
The author gracefully gestured his hand toward Violet, "Now see, Leah. Violet does not find issue with your attraction to your fellow women whatsoever."
Leah poked at Elliott with her elbow, but smiled appreciatively at Violet. "Just be mindful, Elliott. Not everyone is like you guys," she reminded him. She took a few stabs at her salad. "It's not something you have to worry about as a straight person, but it's not the same for people like me."
"I do apologize, Leah," Elliott said earnestly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I clearly was not thinking of the situation from your perspective."
"Alright, you vain peacock," Leah laughed, tapping his hand to indicate she had forgiven him. "I get it."
Elliott considered Leah's teasing seriously for a moment, "I suppose some manner of bird would suit me, as the males are the more decorated of the species..." he mused aloud. "Though I had never thought of myself in such a manner."
The women giggled as the writer continued to ponder the idea. He jotted a few notes in his tiny book, though where his train of thought had gone, no one could really say. "So how have things been with you both this week?" Violet asked, trying to move the conversation along.
The three of them talked about Elliott's eternal problem with writer's block and Leah's similar issue with finding new sources of inspiration because they both visited the same locations each week. "I think ideas will flow more easily with the change of the seasons. The same landscapes I've already sketched will look so different in the coming months," Leah stated excitedly.
"Ah, yes, the beauty of nature at its finest. The sea alters in appearance so drastically throughout the year," Elliott sighed wistfully. "The brilliant cycle of life, death, and rebirth for us to behold." He held up his glass for a small toast between the trio, "To natural beauty! May it inspire us all in our creative," he paused to wink at his companions, "- and romantic endeavors."
Violet giggled, amused by the poets romanticism, but humored him anyway. Leah just shook her head and drank her wine in silence.
Sam's voice rang out across the bar, "Hey, Violet! You coming or not?" he shouted. "We have a title to win!"
The female farmer excused herself from the table, "I had a marvelous time chatting with you both and I look forward to our dinner date next week," Violet informed the duo. "It seems I have another engagement to which I must attend," she pushed in her chair and gave them both a little wave before heading to the other side of the saloon.
Elliott pointedly tipped his wine glass toward Violet as she left, "See? Ms. Violet puts in the effort of speaking well once and a while."
Leah rolled her slate-colored eyes and took the last bite of her salad, "To humor you, you dork."
The author's gaze shifted back down to the last dregs of his wine. He stared at his reflection in the small pool at the bottom of his glass and sighed, hoping that his toast this evening would somehow bring him luck as well. Oh, how he longed to embrace his beloved Cassandra once more. But he knew their relationship would never be the way it had been again. Too much had changed.