Chapter 2

I'm getting married.

Next season.

To a young, handsome, sweet, amazing guy with a farm, who is far too good for me in almost every possible way, yet somehow went inexplicably crazy to propose to me and not change his mind seconds later.

It surprised me so much, I'd accepted before I even knew what was happening.

Although, he has been coming here awfully often over the past season to flirt across the bar while I serve other customers and avoid Griffin's kindly disapproving looks. And he always seems to find me when I'm not working, so we can wander around the woods and the hills and the shore for hours until we're both half-freezing and it's morning before we know it because we've been too busy talking and making stupid jokes that are really funny at the time.

If nothing else, we've been good friends.

And that's good, being friends with your husband, isn't it?

This is everything I've ever wanted. By all accounts, I should be over the moon with joy.

So why do I feel like I could happily stay here, in the safety of my little loft, for the rest of my life and never come out again?

Griffin thinks I'm asleep, or out with Jack, or something. He must, because he's dragged out his guitar, but he's not playing like he usually does. Generally, when he plays in the evenings, it's something slow, but cheerful and comforting. The kind of thing that always makes me feel like I've got a home here and always will.

Tonight, it's slow and melancholy and heartbreak on guitar strings, and he would never play it if he knew I was listening.

He's made a hobby out of shielding sweet, innocent little Muffy from the world.

And after all, if he's never bothered to tell me that I'm more than just some silly little airhead he got roped into caring for, why would he do it now, when I can't tell him that he was never just the nice man who gave me a job?

The Blue Feather on my night table catches my eye, and I can't help but smile.

Only Jack could possibly just find a Blue Feather. They cost thousands in town, but he just stumbled over one on a walk through the woods. No common engagement ring for his bride-to-be.

I can't say that I'm sorry. The feather is beautiful, all shimmery and silky and rainbow-ey when the light hits it, and I like the idea of such a romantic family heirloom.

And I wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of wearing a ring while working at the Blue Bar until the wedding, for Griffin to see everyday. Maybe a part of me knew, even before tonight when I could swear he almost kissed me, that he wouldn't take this news very well.

Although, it obviously wasn't the part I listen to, or I might not be lying here right now, crying silently for him, and for myself, and for Lumina.

I'd really like to know where she fits into all of this. I know how she feels about Jack; it was kind of hard to miss, with her shuffling into the Blue Bar the night Griffin and I nearly earned her eternal hatred by giving her a glass of chocolate milk and swearing up and down that it was a Brown Cow.

But I think I redeemed myself by letting her drag me off for a girl talk. She asked, fidgeting and blushing, if I thought that there was something inherently wrong in a relationship between a sixteen-year old girl and a twenty-eight-year old man. I think she almost swallowed her tongue when I suggested that she should be asking Jack what he thought, instead of me.

I might not be good for much, Lumina, but I could spot a potential romance from space, if I could find a cute astronaut to fly me up there.

That's what confuses me. Usually, I'm good at this, and I could have sworn Jack felt the same way about her. But I guess his older-brotherly kindness was enough to fool her, so why shouldn't it have fooled me, too?

It doesn't take a genius to figure out what convinced her to leave Forget-Me-Not Valley for that trip around the world that Romana devised to expand the girl's horizons. She's been adamantly against it – that's just common knowledge in town, because Romana's bemoaned her granddaughter's lack of taste for adventure to anyone who'll listen.

I know that a lot of people like to scoff at the idea that anyone under about twenty-five can actually fall in love, and be deeply hurt by it.

A lot of people obviously have no memory of being sixteen.

I just hope they're right about some things, and she gets over it quickly, meets a handsome, amazing musician, falls madly in love, and has a wonderful, deliriously happy life.

By the time I stop daydreaming on Lumina's behalf, the music from the room below has long since stopped, and I swear I just heard a pained groan, followed by a sniffle.

Well, obviously, Griffin just has a cold. There's no way I made him cry. He just doesn't do that!

Or maybe I've just never seen him really upset over anything.

And all because he's neurotic about having a "professional relationship"!

I can still remember coming out here, chasing after a job possibility listed in a regional newspaper, intent upon marrying a handsome country-boy and raising a litter of happy little boys and girls who would run around bare-footed and come inside to home-cooked meals.

Of course, I'd have to learn to cook first, but there was plenty of time for that.

Then, by the time I realized I'd be a terrible mother for more reasons than that my cooking is at its best when there's alcohol involved, it began to occur to me that the only handsome country-boy I really cared about was sleeping about ten feet away from me, just down the ladder.

I tried to flirt a little bit, but I don't think he got the message. I couldn't bring myself to really flirt, because I was terrified of him despising me for it.

Then, while I was in town on a shopping expedition, I ran into a nice guy, redhead, freckles, a little dumb, but sweet, and we had dinner together.

I came home and told Griffin, when he asked, that I'd been on a date.

He was not happy, and I thought I had finally found a way to the man's heart: through his caveman instinct of MINE!

Sadly, over time, the ploy became less and less effective, and I became more and more desperate to actually find a nice guy, since the one I wanted was clueless. Although, it was awfully nice when he'd snuggle me to sleep while I left little tear-spots all over his shirt.

And now that I've finally got an opportunity to return the favour, scurry down the ladder and crawl into his bed and snuggle him until he falls asleep, I can't, because I'm the one upset him in the first place.

Life really is funny sometimes, isn't it?

End Notes: Grrgh...I'm pulling the "seems unrequited but isn't" card. I feel a little cheap, but I adore Griffin/Muffy. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for reading. :)

Also, I seem to recall that Lumina's age was listed at eighteen, but that seemed a bit old. She did NOT look eighteen to me. So, call it AU if you will, but in this story, Lumina is sixteen, or almost sixteen.