"I got both LarryBoy cards and Classic Qwerty cards!" Larry announced, bursting into Pa's Corner Store. He hefted the cardboard boxes up against his shoulder and paraded them right over to the lunch counter, where Pa Grape was in the process of drying milkshakes glasses fresh from the industrial dishwasher.

The elderly grape nodded with satisfaction at Larry's handiwork. "Not bad, not bad. You can put them with the others."

A part of the sales counter was filled up with the cardboard boxes which Larry had brought over during the week. Each had trading cards which Larry had created of his friends around the house (plus the unsold Bob cards which his best buddy, Bob the Tomato, had made). Each card listed the stats of the veggies, detailing their skills, qualities and even toothpaste preferences.

Card production was thirsty work, so Larry ordered himself a large root-beer float, which Pa presented with a bendy straw before going back to his task. Larry settled on the tomato-themed barstool, slurping the floaty goodness of his treat, when the bell of the front door rang, and a red-haired rhubarb hopped in.

Larry grinned, swiveling toward her. "Petunia! Over here!"

Petunia's blue eyes had been scanning the store, but when they settled upon Larry's welcoming face, she smiled and sauntered down the front steps.

"Wanna have a rootbeer float with me?" he asked.

"Not this time. I told Tina I'd be back at the shop in a few minutes," she answered. "I wanted to check out these VeggieCards I keep hearing about. Someone said you included me?"

"Of course!" Larry beamed, jumping to his feet to bound over to the boxes. "I wanted to include all the staples of our community!"

Pa glanced up from his milkshake glasses. "And how much of a staple is that giant rock you made a card for yesterday?"

"Can you imagine the backyard without those big rocks?"

Larry selected a card. He passed it smoothly to Petunia, who examined both sides. The front showed her standing in a woodland meadow, holding a potted purple blossom. Golden light bathed one side of her face, and the painted Petunia smiled pleasantly, looking off to the side.

"Not a bad picture, huh?" Larry grinned proudly. "I was going for a 'forest at sunset' look."

"And it's very nice," she agreed, scanning the back, "but I'm confused about these stats, Larry. This says" — she squinted at the tiny text — "I melt in the rain?"

"That's your sweetness stat!" he chirped. "Pure sugar!"

She looked taken aback. "Really?"

"Ask anyone in town, and they'll say the same! Right, Pa?" He swiveled toward the grape.

"Cavity inducing," Pa replied with a fatherly smile, placing a glass to the side, "and I mean that in the nicest way."

"Aw, you guys!" she giggled. She turned the card's back toward Larry. "But what about this stat that says I'm a 'job'?"

"Wait, let me see that," Larry frowned, surveying the text, but then he broke into a laugh. "No, not job. That's Job. That's your patience stat!"

"Oh, I get it!" she tittered.

Larry grinned. "If you can handle training me on the ice-cream cart, you definitely have patience, Petunia."

She gave him a friendly wink before glancing again at the text. "So, what about this part that says I'm worth one button?"

"That's your cuteness stat," Larry declared. "You're as cute as a button!"

Her head snapped up; her previously smiling mouth dropped open.

"...You really think so, Larry?" she asked quietly, searching his face.

Oh, boy… Larry swallowed noisily, but he forced a smile. Rubbing the back of his neck with his invisible fingers, he attempted to assuage the awkward moment.

"Um, well… that's what Lieutenant Ryan always said," he answered carefully. "He'd go, 'My wife is as cute as a button, Larry' whenever you came up in a conversation."

Her appraising face at once grew nostalgic.

"That's right," she answered slowly. "I nearly forgot… but I'm glad you remembered."

Larry rolled his shoulders. "Heh, how could I forget? Ryan loved talking about you."

She softened, and an almost watery smile appeared. "Thank you, Larry. I appreciate you honoring my Ryan on my card."

Larry gave a lopsided grin. Five years ago, Lieutenant Ryan had been deployed down the street to fight in the Great Slushy War. The "police action" had been eventually resolved, but some soldiers never made it back. Petunia had been alone ever since.

"Well, uh, you know, when I get in the stat zone, my brain remembers stuff that amazes even me. That's on the Larry card, you know."

"Yeah." She studied her card in silence before she straightened, breathing in. "Well, I think I'll be purchasing this then! Pa?"

Pa left his work long enough to ring up Petunia's order at the robotic register. Petunia also bought a protective sleeve for her card and held her paper bag with her merchandise as though carrying a child. She gave Larry a lingering smile before she retreated out the front door.

Larry watched her through the window until her red hair disappeared from sight. He slumped on the bar stool, letting out a long breath.

Pa finished drying a milkshake glass and laid it to the side.

"You know," he said, "you don't have to make excuses to her."

Larry whirled around.

"What excuses?" he demanded. "I told Petunia the truth."

Pa calmly reached for another glass.

"But you left out the very important fact that Ryan wasn't the only man in this town to find Petunia cute."

Larry sat up, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

"Who?" he demanded. "Bacon Bill?"

Pa gave him one of his patented "Are you kidding me?" looks.

"Larry, you put it on her card that she's cute," he pointed out. "Do you believe it?"

"Well, yeah, sure, but…" He swallowed, shaking his head. "…I'm not Lieutenant Ryan."

Pa nodded, a sad understanding appearing on his features.

"Are you concerned she's not ready to move on? Or that you won't measure up to Husband Number One?"

Larry averted his gaze. "It's better to stay friends. I'm good at being a friend. It's on the Larry Card."

He picked up his card from the nearby display, showing the back to Pa. The grape twitched his white mustache, regarding Larry, before he reached beneath the counter to pull out a framed photograph of him and Ma Grape on their wedding day, back when both still had brown hair.

"I'm not saying it's easy for somebody who lost their spouse to move on," Pa said gently. He gave the photo a grim smile before he set it on the counter. "But God directs some people to remarriage, like Ruth in the Bible. Maybe Petunia's more ready to find her Boaz than you think."

"If she is, it'll be someone awesome like Tom Celeriac or Mayor Archibald," Larry grumbled. "She was married to a war hero. Why would she settle for a goofball?"

"Do you remember Ryan?" Pa challenged. "When he wasn't in uniform, he could be just as silly as you, in his own quiet way."

Larry stood. "I gotta go make more cards. See ya, Pa."

"Just think about it, son," Pa advised as Larry strode to the door.

If Pa only knew just how often he thought about it, Larry brooded as he headed toward his house up on the countertop. Petunia was an important friend: patient, full of agape, smart, talented, and — just like her card said — incredibly cute. She rode bikes with Larry, listened to his problems, didn't roll her eyes when he pretended to be Plantasaurus, bought him sardines for his birthday, shared the pies which she baked, was good with kids, kept her head when Motato terrorized the town, and joined Larry for the occasion musical number. She was the kind of girl who could attract any guy she wanted — and she had already wanted Ryan, who would have needed an extra large VeggieCard just to hold all his stats. How did Larry compare to that?

"She can do better," Larry sighed to himself, making a note to add that stat on the holographic edition of the Petunia card.

THE END


A/N: If the Netflix series can turn Dad Asparagus into Captain Mike the astronaut, why can't I turn Ryan into a lieutenant? (In the Netflix canon, Petunia came from a family of drill sergeants, so it would make sense if she married someone in the military.)