Author Note: Hello, readers! I'm sorry it's been a while since I posted. Life has been quite busy and it's actually been kind of nice? Like, what is this? Socializing? IN PERSON?
Anyway, I know the holidays are quickly approaching, so I'm not sure how often I'll have time to write. My original goal was to finish by mid-December so I could have at least two weeks off before starting Winter Year 1. But... *Glances at calendar* That may be a bit of a long-shot now. We'll see.
Chemical Reactions
Because Maru had spent the night at her parents' house rather than her borrowed apartment above the clinic, the young woman had set an early alarm to make sure she could join Alex on his trip to Rasmodius' tower in the Cindersap Forest prior to opening the health center for its shortened weekend hours.
Maru understand that she could decide not to open the clinic on Sundays, but ironically Maru found that she did a lot of her best thinking between the hours of ten and two, which overlapped with her work hours significantly. The front counter also provided plenty of space for her to spread her notes and hash out her thought process on paper.
The previous evening's extraction of "void essence" from the shadow creatures in the mines proved successful. Using her stun gun, Maru had immobilized several specimens and Alex provided the necessary strength to extract the cores directly with a tool she had invented specifically for this purpose.
The self-possessing shadows quickly dissipated after the surgical removal, which had alarmed Alex more than she expected, but Maru assured her companion that the specimens always returned to a visible state after a few days - a discovering Maru herself found after conducting a study of the shadow population about two years ago.
While there were only minor differences, each shadow was unique, much like humans themselves. Maru had her suspicions that these lifeforms never truly died the way other beings did, and marked the masks of certain shadows with serial numbers and kept a log of their physically measurable attributes while they were stunned. Once the data had been collected, Maru would then extract the core - what Rasmodius referred to as "void essence."
After several months, Maru had found that the masked shadows that she had "destroyed" at one point had returned with the same measurable characteristics, but this time with a smaller amount of extractable essence. Maru had not intended to truly destroy these beings, whatever they might be, so she discontinued the project under the assumption that there was a limit to how many times any individual shadow could have its core removed before it ceased to exist.
With this knowledge, Maru helped Alex gather the necessary materials he required for his payment to Rasmodius, but they had finished too late in the evening to go to the Cindersap Forest. Instead, they promised to meet again in the morning.
So, once Maru dressed and gathered the carefully jarred essence in her pack, the young researcher shouldered her bag and headed down the hall toward the kitchen. As usual, her father sat at the table, sipping his morning coffee while reading the newspaper.
"Good morning, Maru," Demetrius greeted his daughter, his eyes not leaving the page until he finished the paragraph. "You're up earlier than usual."
Maru nodded. "I have some early morning errands to run," she informed her father. The bespectacled woman hesitated for a moment, as she considered how to best phrase what she wanted to say. "Dad…"
Demetrius folded the newspaper neatly, though a bit of the ink rubbed off on his fingers as he creased the cheaply made print. He sighed heavily. "I can tell from your tone that I'm in trouble…" he tried to lighten the mood with a hint of a smile and Maru returned the gesture.
"I can't have you giving Alex the stink eye every time he comes to the house."
Her father leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his fingertips wriggled through his flat top coils to his scalp. He scratched lightly - a nervous habit of his. "When was I giving Alex such a look?" he questioned his daughter.
Maru frowned and refused to let him dodge the issue. "Dad, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I noticed when mom kicked your shin under the table."
The edges of Demetrius' lips twitched downward, knowing fully well that he had been caught. "I just don't want him getting any ideas."
"Dad, you promised me that you would trust my decisions," Maru reminded her father, crossing her arms over her chest. "And that includes my social circle." Her father looked down at the table guiltily but said nothing.
"I didn't say anything..." Her father was pouting about her growing up again and Maru could not help but sigh. Demetrius likely believed he had been keeping his end of their bargain by not verbalizing his disapproval.
"If you keep treating my friends this way, I just won't come home on the weekends anymore…" she threatened. "Is that what you want?" Maru knew this was a bit of a dirty move on her part, since her father made it clear that he missed his daughter's presence in the house, but it was effective.
"No," Demetrius replied solemnly, his body language slumping in defeat. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable in your own home."
Maru beamed. "Good." She grabbed an apple from the basket on the table and took a bite. "I'm heading to the clinic early so I can run a few errands first." Maru leaned forward to kiss her father's cheek. "I'll see you tonight for mom's birthday dinner."
Abigail practically vibrated with anticipation as the grey stone tower came into view just above the treeline of the Cindersap Forest. The structure loomed over the rich, warm tones of the fall foliage and this time she was no longer forbidden from entry. She fought the urge to sprint the rest of the way and burst through the front door to begin her first formal magic lesson with her biological father.
The amethyst-haired woman had so many questions - Did she have other abilities? If not, could she learn more? Was this going to be a lot of reading old books in Latin or more practical application? Could she summon a real ghost with her ouija board by the Spirit's Eve Festival next week? How did Rasmodius meet her mother? Upon more careful consideration, some curiosities were probably best left unanswered.
Abigail knew going into this that there would be more to learn than magic. There would be adjustments to be made from both sides. Rasmodius had not known that he was a father until earlier this week and Abigail spent her entire life thinking Pierre was her dad. Not to mention how this really threw off her whole sense of self. It was not like her mother lied about relatively benign, typical parent things. Caroline knew that her husband, Pierre, was not the father of her daughter and allowed everyone to live in complete ignorance.
How might Abigail's life have been different if Rasmodius helped to raise her? All her desperate desires to run off on a quest - a heroic adventure - might have been realized if her mother had told the truth. Was it too late for her?
As Abigail reached the top of the stairs to the ridge on which the stone tower stood, a gust of wind swept along a cascade of leaves to pry loose from the branches of nearby trees, creating a small whirlwind of fiery foliage. From the center, emerged a man dressed in black robes trimmed with gold. He tipped his hat to her.
"I am Rasmodius! Seeker of arcane truths, mediary between physical and ethereal -"
Abigail cut off the introduction abruptly. "Look, Rasmodius, I just want to learn magic," she explained. "The only thing my mother ever told me about you before all this was that I was never allowed to enter this tower."
Rasmodius stroked his beard, contemplating the new information as Abigail resumed. "We don't really know each other, but we're supposed to be family. Can't we just skip the formalities?"
Rasmodius cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ahem, yes, of course…" He muttered additional commentary under his breath that Abigail could not hear. "This way, Abigail." Throwing his cape aside dramatically to reveal the entrance of the tower, the purple-haired man gestured for his daughter to follow him inside.
He's like a drama kid who never grew up, Abigail reflected, remembering Violet's warning about the wizard's theatrics. At least he didn't insist on finishing the long list of titles.
Violet did not want to be late to watch Abigail's magic lessons - and ideally get some answers of her own from the sketchy wizard who drugged her the first week she arrived in town. Abigail requested that the first hour be alone, but that anyone who wanted to join could show up afterward. At first, Violet was not going to attend since a large part of her still did not trust Rasmodius, even if he was now known to be Abigail's biological father. But the real possibility of finding answers to a few personal questions that no one in her family would likely answer was a huge draw, even if the wizard did not know exact details.
As she crossed the southern property line of her farm, Violet considered the events of the day prior. While she and Sebastian had not gone any further in their relationship physically, Violet felt lighter mentally and emotionally knowing that she and her boyfriend felt the same way about one another. As petty as it sounded, the farmer was relieved that she and Sebastian shared similar fears about his moving to the city. It validated her insecurities, and they could joke about it together. And, above all, Violet realized it meant they both hoped this relationship would last.
So, her premonitions after receiving Sebastian's old motorcycling jacket yesterday were correct. Yesterday was a great day and Violet had evidence to prove the part of her was convinced that history would repeat itself wrong. It felt so freeing that Violet was a bit giddy. She would get to see Sebastian again today for Robin's birthday dinner up in the mountains, too. Everything was going her way.
Violet heard a tapping sound coming from Leah's cottage as she neared the small dwelling and decided to say hello. Rapping on the door, Violet waited for Leah to say, "It's open!" until she entered her friend's house.
"Good morning, Leah!" the farmer greeted the redhead. Even the pastel-haired woman realized her tone sounded happier today as her own voice reached her ears.
Leah, who had been carefully chipping away at a block of fresh wood, turned to face Violet. She wiped her hair away from her face. "Oh, hey, Violet. Did you have a good day yesterday?"
The younger woman tried her best not to gush but was only partially successful. "Yesterday was wonderful, Leah!" Violet crooned. "Sebastian took me to this beautiful ledge between here and ZuZu City and it was gorgeous. We got to talking and we both said 'I love you' for the first time last night."
The artist's grey eyes glanced back at her work, as if she would rather be working than having this conversation. "I guess that's a big step for you guys, huh?"
Violet bobbed her head in agreement but noticed the melancholy expression on Leah's face. "You look a little down," the visitor observed. "Are you nervous about your Art Show today?"
Leah's face whipped back toward Violet more quickly than she expected. "Violet, my Art Show was yesterday."
A sinking feeling weighed down Violet's very core when she realized the truth. The farmer had completely forgotten about Leah's art exhibition and instead focused on plans with Sebastian. She had double-booked herself and Leah was the one to suffer for it. Violet's mouth twitched into a frown of remorse and apology. "Oh, Leah," she breathed. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there to support you!"
Violet held out her hand to touch Leah's shoulder in a comforting manner, but the redhead shrugged away from the gesture. "It's okay, I guess," the artist sighed, running a hand over her braid. "The show was kind of a bust either way. The only people who showed up from out of town were my ex and some friend of hers I didn't recognize." Leah leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "They didn't stay long, but I was a nervous wreck for my presentation when it came time to talk about the pieces I've been working on."
"Still, I promised you I would be there and I wasn't," Violet stated firmly, not letting herself off the hook. "I was a bad friend, and you deserve better." Leah and Elliott were among the first villagers to welcome her into their little circle and Violet had not returned the favor of their friendship well. The farmer spent a lot more time with Abigail, Sam, and Sebastian and now that she and Sebastian were dating, Violet had neglected her other relationships. She stepped forward and took Leah's hand. "I want to make it up to you, Leah. When's your next show?"
"I appreciate that, Violet." Leah replied, but the sadness in her grey eyes did not match the rest of her face. "But I don't know if there's going to be another show," she answered, "at least not with my work as the main attraction."
Leah gently pulled her hand back and approached the sculpture she had been working on. "Haley gave me a bunch of tips of what I could do to improve for next year," the artist disclosed, studying the woodgrains with the tips of her spindly fingers. "As much as I hate to say it, she's right. I have to put my name out there more often and to a wider audience if I want to make it as an artist."
"Pelican Town is a great place to get inspiration from the natural landscape, but I can't make a living just selling my art to my neighbors," she continued. Leah grinned again, this time shyly. "Haley and I made a pact that we would both apply to set up a booth for the Stardew Valley Fair next year."
"That sounds like a great idea," Violet reacted encouragingly. The farmer took note of the blush, however. Everyone knew about Leah's crush on Haley since the Flower Dance, but nothing had come of it. Violet wondered if anything had changed between them since the Spring. "And I guess things between you and Haley have been going well lately?"
Leah laughed nervously. "Yeah, Haley's been really supportive," the sculptor agreed. "Even if she doesn't always phrase things delicately, I think we understand each other better now."
Violet still felt guilty for ditching Leah on her big day, though she would not have traded the experiences of yesterday for anything at this point. "I'm glad you had someone there for you, Leah," the farmer expressed sincerely. "And I'm going to be a better friend to you, too. I promise."
Nodding, Leah acknowledged the declaration. "In that case, do you want to stay and chat while I work on this sculpture? I think I need to get out of my own head for a minute and I think talking it out will help."
While Violet did not want to miss out on the magic training with Abigail, she knew that both Sam and Sebastian planned on going, so Abigail would not be alone even if she had to decline the invitation this time around. The pastel-haired woman notified her other friends via text that she would have to pass on today's lesson, but then gave Leah her full attention. "I'm all yours for the next six hours!"
Elliott fussed at his doppelganger in the mirror, desperately attempting to tame the cowlick in his honey-hued mane before he ventured out to meet Miss Penelope. But alas, the offending locks would not obey no matter how many times the man combed through the silky strands. How on earth could he be expected to recite poetry to his lady if he was not properly groomed? The romantic held no desire to embarrass Miss Penelope with a shabby appearance. Still, Elliott had an appointment.
His honey-hued orbs glanced at the clock. "Though I presume it is more important to be punctual," Elliott acknowledged dutifully. The poet had every intention of being the perfect gentleman as he wooed Miss Penelope and arriving late for a pre-arranged encounter was out of the question. Sighing heavily, Elliott donned his burgundy overcoat. He would simply have to wear a hat or tie his hair back with a striking headscarf to distract one's eyes from the problem.
Opening the drawer in which he kept his accessories, Elliott quickly spied the headscarf of emerald green. It matched Miss Penelope's eyes perfectly. With his hair pinned back neatly, the cowlick was invisible to the eye. "Yes, this will do nicely," he approved with a satisfied smile.
After tucking his personal pocketbook, Elliott sauntered out into the crisp autumn air. The sun was shining brightly, though the air was brisk and blustery. The author was suddenly glad that he had been forced to wear his hair high on his head. At least now he would be unhindered when reading his poetry to Miss Penelope.
Elliott felt quite giddy. Never had anyone wished to recite poetry with him - let alone a fine lady. The creative felt a newfound spring in his step as she headed for the tree near the old graveyard where Miss Penelope often read.
Even from a distance, Elliott admired the beauty and grace of Miss Penelope. She had arrived at the spot early and set out a blanket so their clothing would not be soiled - she was so considerate that way - and was in the process of weighing down the corners with stones. She wore her signature colors of canary yellow and tawny brown, which complemented her rich, dark hair and its fiery undertones. Despite the cool air, the mere sight of Miss Penelope warmed Elliott. His lips slowly curled toward the edges of his face. He watched her fret adorably for a moment, then offered his aid. "What may I do to assist, Miss Penelope?" Elliott asked as he closed the remaining gap between them.
The young woman whipped around to face him. "Oh, I didn't expect you so early!" Miss Penelope indicated with a hint of embarrassment to her tone. "I hoped I would finish earlier, but the wind isn't cooperating."
Elliott felt a smirk forming on his features once again at Penny's expense. She was trying so earnestly to make things perfect, and the elements were fighting her. "Please, allow me."
Alex had slept strangely well, despite the uneasiness tugging at the back of his mind. Like he had forgotten something important. When he got out of bed to get dressed, there was a knock on the door. Assuming it was his granny, Alex shouted, "Come in!" as he finished pulling on a pair of grey sweatpants.
"Good morning, Sirius!"
The jock immediately realized his mistake. His sweet old granny did not even know his pre-planned pro gridball nickname. Now he was going to look like a weirdo for inviting Maru into his room when he was not fully dressed.
Backpedaling away from the door, the young man accidentally tripped over his pair of training weights and if not for his quick reflexes, Alex would have fallen. Instead, he wobbled awkwardly, waving his shirt in one hand to try and steady himself. Maru offered her hand and Alex instinctually flailed in her general direction.
The shirt caught on Maru's outstretched fingers and began to pull her toward him as his full weight began to teeter backward. Neither Alex nor Maru were able to adjust properly and save themselves from both tumbling over into a pile on the floor. To Alex's surprise, Maru was more solidly built than she looked, but she did her best to make sure her elbows did not jab him on the way down, so he could appreciate that.
Alex froze for a moment when he realized that he was flat on his back and Maru was on top of him. She chuckled. "Sorry," Maru apologized, pushing her glasses back up her nose. "I assumed with my lower center of gravity I could keep you from falling, but I definitely miscalculated."
Meanwhile, the jock felt Maru's cold hands on his chest and chill bumps formed on his skin. Her face was so close, he could see his reflection in her deep brown eyes.
"Did you hit your head?"
It was then Alex realized that he had been staring like a freak. But before he could say anything, Maru whipped out a little flashlight and blinded him temporarily. "It doesn't look like you're concussed, but we should be more careful…" she informed him, tucking the light away. Alex nodded dumbly, unable to say anything as he became increasingly aware of how it felt to have Maru laying on him, her breath making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. This was a terrible time to be wearing sweatpants.
Panicking, Alex rolled over to one side, knocking Maru off him. He jumped to his feet, grabbing a pair of jeans from his dresser. "Bathroom!" he yelled over his shoulder as he made a quick getaway.
Maru was left standing alone in his bedroom, completely oblivious to Alex's embarrassment.
Rasmodius stood at the back of the room, watching his daughter's sloppy posture as she sat on a small cushion in the center of the magic circle. "Slouching does not promote inner focus," he proclaimed in a voice as smooth and calm as the water.
But the child barked back a rude reply, "I wasn't slouching!" Abigail insisted with a growl, twisting her body to face him. "And how does sitting here doing nothing teach me magic?"
The wizened wizard should have known that any progeny of Caroline's would have patience in short supply. "If you are doing 'nothing,'" Rasmodius replied with a heavy sigh, "you are not truly meditating." The magician pointed in Abigail's general direction to emphasize his point. "You should be firmly planted into the ground with your posture, monitoring your breathing, and concentrating on the magical flow in your veins." Circling his new pupil, Rasmodius lectured solemnly. "Once you master this, someday you may tap into the mighty dragon's astral plane from which all magic springs eternal."
"But I don't know what magical flow is supposed to feel like!" his newly found daughter griped. She rose to her feet. "This is a waste of time. Why aren't you teaching me about my acid splashes or some other simple spells?"
Rasmodius was taken aback by the girl's audacious disrespect for the arcane arts. But the wizard acknowledged she had not been properly raised to respect the importance of his work due to his lack of influence in her upbringing. He would have to resolve that one way or another. Still, Rasmodius did not want Abigail to quit out of frustration. He needed assistants to free up his time from busy work, and that would only happen if Abigail stayed and brought friends along. A few spells his ex-wife developed came to mind.
"Well, if you insist." His daughter's bright eyes shimmered with joy at the prospect of new knowledge and Rasmodius sneered behind the thick curtain of his downy purple beard. "I shall teach you the incantations for cooking and keeping house that are useful to all witches. Even these spells are harmless if mispronounced, unlike some of the arcane sorcery I-"
Rasmodius spied a handsome leather-bound tome - The Elemental Wars: A History of Dwarven and Elven Conflicts, Volume 2 – in his peripheral vision just as it hit him square in the jaw.
When Rasmodius opened his eyes, he found himself with a fascinating view of the exquisitely crafted murals on the ceiling. But why was he prone on the floor? A searing pain hit his senses. "You hit me with a projectile weapon!" the wizard gasped in both horror and disbelief, holding his face where he believed he could see a large bruise beginning to form in his own reflection.
"And you're a sexist pig who should have been able to dodge a book if you're as high and mighty as you claim, dad!" Abigail spat sarcastically in response. It was clear from her body language that his daughter did not respect his authority - both as a father and as an instructor. Rasmodius knew he would have to make sure all traces of this injury were gone preceding his attendance to the next Carnival of Secrets. Otherwise, he would never hear the end of it.
Ramodius blinked at the young lady looming over him and sighed heavily. Abigail did not even offer to help him up, instead she opted to glare daggers at him, as if she were contemplating dropping a book on his face while he was down. Rasmodius had not considered that his own flesh-and-blood may house a fiery temper to rival that of his ex-wife. Perhaps this will be more difficult than I anticipated… the wizard acknowledged uneasily.
The semi-conscious sorcerer rolled his head toward the front door as it flung open with a loud thwack! Rasmodius only saw their silhouettes against the morning sun as it poured into the room.
Abigail's attention immediately flickered toward the unexpected guests. "Alex? Maru?" She was clearly puzzled. "What are you doing here?"
Alex paced behind the purple-haired man who stood at a giant pot as he poured a bunch of weird ingredients into the bubbling water. The jock wanted his answers, he gave the old guy what he wanted, so why was this taking so long? And why had he needed some of Alex's hair?
Maru and Abigail chatted casually on the other end of the room, but Alex was too caught up in his own thoughts to catch what they were talking about.
Finally, Rasmodius tossed a bright red powder into the steaming pot, causing a flash of light that temporarily blinded everyone. Alex grimaced as he shielded his face. "What the heck was that for?!" he shouted as the multi-colored spots in his vision began to dissipate.
The liquid in the pot now looked like molten gold and the wizard cleared his throat. He avoided looking at Alex, which immediately made the athlete suspicious. "I cannot tell for certain whether you had a curse of some sort cast on you the day of your "try-outs," Rasmodius admitted quietly.
Alex scowled. "You said if I got that stupid essence for you, you would tell me the truth about what happened that day!" Alex felt cheated. Had this guy just used him to get a hard-to-find item?
Rasmodius shook his head. "I told you I could help you find out what might have happened that day, young man." The weird old guy then pointed to the potion he made, which was now a bright gold. "You're incredibly lucky, Alex," the caped man disclosed seriously. "If someone had tried to harm you by magical means on the day of your 'try-outs,' the worst they would have been able to do was give you a minor injury - unless they were an especially skilled magician."
Alex was about to make his own commentary, but Rasmodius cut him off. "I sincerely doubt a powerful wizard cares very much about this ball game of yours," the wizard pronounced firmly. There was a silence between them for a moment before Ramodius added, "It's more likely that you ate something that disagreed with you that day."
The athlete's face twisted in confusion. "What's that mean?"
"What I mean is, if your luck really did have anything to do with it, perhaps it purposely caused you to fumble in order to keep you out of harm's way." Walking toward a bookcase full of enormous books Alex was sure he could never read, Rasmodius pulled one down and flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted. "In other words, perhaps you would have become severely injured if you made the team that year."
The wizard turned the book so Alex could see better. "This chart is the theoretical range of mortal luck," the purple-bearded man explained. It was one of those graphs where the line squiggled so that it was tall in the middle and low on either end. Maru had shown him a few of them from her other research projects. What are they called again?
Without Alex having to ask, Maru was already standing next to him, examining the chart. "So where does Alex fall?"
Rasmodius pointed to the furthest end of the graph, where the sweeping lines got really close to the bottom. "With this dazzling color, I can only assume he is among the best and the brightest - excuse the pun - when it comes to inherent luck."
Maru eyed the graph, clearly impressed. "That's at least three standard deviations above the average." She turned to Alex and smiled. "I knew you were special, Sirius." Alex could sense his face getting all red with embarrassment.
"Yeah, but skill is more than luck," Alex countered defensively. "I'm still going to be the best pro out there, lucky or not."
Maru then took charge of the questioning, though the wizard guy did not like it. "So how does a person get so lucky like this?"
Rasmodius sniffed in amusement. "Normally, I would say it's 'just luck,'" he acknowledged the young scientist. "But since the Mullner household already has a protection spell on it, I doubt that is the case."
"Wait, what?" Alex interrupted, stepping forward toward the guy in the cape. "Why would my house have a protection spell on it?"
The man shrugged. "It was cast on the house long before you were born, young man." He ogled Alex, then added, "Why don't you ask your grandparents? The spell would have been first cast about fifty or sixty years ago, by my estimations..."
So probably when granny and gramps were teenagers… Alex supposed. They might not have been even living in the house yet, but it's worth a shot. "Alright, I will." He turned on his heels and headed out the door to find his granny. Alex hoped that she of all people could give him some answers.
Penny could not help but be flustered by the wind slapping her hair into her face every few moments as she tried to read a poem aloud for Elliott's enjoyment. She had most of the poem memorized anyway, but Penny realized that reciting a poem while locks of hair flung themselves into her open mouth was not an attractive sight. The brunette felt like a fool for wearing her hair down on a day like this. It was only going to become unbearably knotted at this rate.
"Miss Penelope…"
The schoolteacher hung her head, expecting that Elliott was asking her to stop altogether. "I'm sorry," Penny apologized, embarrassed by the situation. She had completely ruined the atmosphere of their romantic poetry reading.
Elliott repeated her name and Penny tilted her head upward reluctantly. Her eyes widened as she found Elliott's face much closer to hers than she expected. Her suitor's own long tresses were hanging loosely, billowing in the wind behind him. Elliott held his own emerald green hair ribbon and offered it to her. "May I?"
Penny acquiesced breathlessly and Elliott quickly gathered her hair up into the fabric, pinning it away from her face. She felt his fingertips brush gently against the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. It felt so forbiddingly intimate - as if it were his lips pressing against her skin and not simply his fingertips. Penny flushed, wondering what people might say if they witnessed this moment. Or if Elliott knew where her mind had wandered. Would he be repulsed? Flattered? Did he reciprocate such desires?
"I'm afraid I am no beautician," Elliott stated apologetically, bringing Penny's attention away from her internal dilemma, "but I believe this will suffice." Elliott took his seat again across from her on the blanket. She could see the delight on his face. "My! How such a simple accessory draws attention to your breath-taking eyes!"
Penny squirmed slightly, not used to such direct compliments from a handsome man. "Th-thank you, Elliott." She sat up, tucking her ankles beneath her, and opened her poetry book to the page from which she left off. "Shall I try again?"
Elliott concurred. "Yes, please do."
As the words poured out - this time without interruption - Penny could feel Elliott's gaze fixed upon her. It made her anxious. No man had ever given her his undivided attention and to have Elliott study her face as she read aloud disquieted her. She stuttered, stumbling over words she knew by heart because that very organ was quivering in her chest.
Elliott seemed to notice her distress and broke eye contact. Penny felt both calmed and disappointed - as if she had expected something more to happen. "Please excuse my rudeness," the man expressed bashfully. "I did not realize I was staring."
"I-It's fine," Penny insisted, though she knew from experience she must have looked like a deer in headlights. She cleared her throat and carried on, this time, more confidently. Elliott instead chose to recline on the picnic blanket, gazing upward toward the sky, and listening to the sound of her voice. Never had she imagined she would meet such a kind and gentle man.
The wind rustled the dried leaves on the tree above them and several of them made their meandering journey toward the ground. Elliott looked so peaceful, his sharp jawline relaxed as he closed his eyes, and his breath became steady. Penny wondered what he was thinking as she read to him.
The sight of Elliott was so picturesque that Penny worried she would soon wake up and find all of this to be a dream. The woman continued to recite her poem, but her eyes could not help but be drawn to his lips. Penny knew she wanted to kiss them, but that would be improper, right? She could not give people the wrong idea about her. The last thing Penny wanted was to sully her reputation. But then again…
Penny's voice trailed off and she fell forward to hover slightly over Elliott's face. His long lashes fluttered open, and his honey-hued eyes met her own. His voice was quiet, but curious. "Miss Penelope?" Penny gripped her blouse over her heart, as if that was the only thing that would keep it from escaping her body. "Is everything alright?"
The schoolteacher nodded. "M-may I kiss you, Elliott?"
Immediately, his eyes flickered toward her lips and Penny unwittingly held her breath as she waited for his answer.
"I would like that." He reached up and caressed her cheek with one hand before she closed her eyes and brought her mouth gently onto his soft lips. She felt Elliott wrap his arms around the small of her waist, pulling her into his chest. Penny dared not open her eyes, fearing that if she did, she would wake up and find that all of this was her imagination.
But this precious moment was not meant to last. Harsh reality came crashing down on them both when Pam's shrill shriek broke the spell between them. "Penny!?"
Robin sat at the head of the kitchen table, watching happily as her son and his girlfriend made dinner to celebrate her birthday. Violet had apparently gone to get some goat cheese from Marnie's Ranch and was making a variety of gourmet spaghetti, since that was Robin's favorite. The carpenter was touched that Sebastian and Violet were cooking the main dish while Demetrius and Maru worked on the side dishes.
Violet movements suggested that she knew what she was doing in the kitchen and while Robin could tell her son was not as confident - which Robin admitted was partially her fault for not teaching him - but Sebastian was taking directions well. The ginger smirked with satisfaction as she witnessed tiny moments of affection between the couple. A touch here, a playful bump there, having the other inspect their work or taste an ingredient. Cooking together was a wonderful way to bond. After all, there was no faster way to another person's heart than through good food.
Robin sniffed the air and her mouth salivated at the scent. "If it tastes half as good as it smells, I'll be a happy woman!" she declared.
"Don't jinx us!" Sebastian begged his mother as he held up a small bowl full of minced garlic for Violet to inspect. "Is this enough?"
The farmer giggled. "Wow, I didn't think you could even touch garlic!" Violet teased. "Give half of that to Maru to put in the garlic knots."
"Ha ha…" Sebastian laughed sarcastically, though he still surrendered the pungent vegetable to his sister. Robin could tell from the curve of his mouth that her son was enjoying himself. As a mother, the carpenter felt like she would burst. It had been so long since she had seen her boy smile and now it was happening daily. The whole family was working on a meal in her honor. It honestly felt a little odd to sit twiddling her thumbs while everyone did all the work, but the children especially had insisted.
Robin was relieved to find that she did not have to wait long. Soon, she was presented with a spread of salad, garlic knots, creamy goat cheese spaghetti with roasted cherry tomatoes and fresh garlic, and for dessert Violet had an apple pie in the oven that should be done by the time they finished dinner.
"I wish everyday was my birthday!" Robin joked as she raised a fork. "Dig in!"
The meal was wonderful, as was the dessert which included fresh apples from Violet's own fruit tree. She could not have asked for a more perfect meal. The kids were getting along, Demetrius and Sebastian were clearly trying to be more understanding of one another, and Robin could not help but wonder if Violet might be the perfect addition to their family in the future. A mother could dream.
After everyone had eaten their fill, Robin opened her first present - a small box tied with a neat red ribbon - to reveal a lucky rabbit's foot.
"I hope it's okay…" her son's girlfriend uttered bashfully. "I wasn't sure what else to get you, honestly."
Robin beamed at Violet appreciatively. "Thank you, sweetie," she responded in an assuring, motherly tone. "I've been looking for one of these for a long time." Holding the small appendage up to the light, Robin knew now what she would have to do. It was time to reach out to Jesse.