Summer

High summer was at hand at last, and Makoto was glad of the chance to escape the heat of the ovens to work with her showy summer blooms. She worked at the counter next to the casement window, and when the sunlight streamed over her bent head, it brought out the rich auburn and mahogany tones in her hair. Her knife moved swiftly but surely as she cut the soaked floral foam into rounds so they would conform to the shapes of the centerpiece vases.

She took her much-needed break on the bench beneath the striped awning, sipping a tall glass of iced tea as she watched the customers entering the shop and greeted many of them by name. She indulged in a little game she often played with herself, trying to guess what each person was there for and checking if she had been right when they exited.

Here was someone who craved macaroons, she thought sagely, and there was someone who would come out with a clutch of sunflowers. This woman was looking for chocolate so dark it would remind her that there were things bitterer than her lot in life, and that man needed a slice of lemon meringue pie light and airy enough to float away on to match his big dreams. The next person was someone on an errand, perhaps picking up desserts for a dinner party or some flowers to freshen up the house for her in-laws' unexpected visit, but she wouldn't be able to resist getting a little something for herself.

Makoto was just about to force herself to get up and return to her work when she spotted another person moving purposefully down the sidewalk towards her. Still in guessing mode, she thought that despite his tanned skin, the newcomer was someone who could use more sunshine in his life. She blinked when he came closer, and Makoto recognized Kunzite's broad shoulders and upright carriage.

She had been expecting another visit from one of the Shitennou any day now – Jadeite turned up quite often these days, sometimes accompanying Rei and occasionally carrying her packages for her, and Zoisite was rumored to be returning from Germany within the month. The interesting part was that Ami had brought her this piece of news even before Usagi and Mamoru had. But any of the others had been a likelier candidate than Kunzite, even the one she refused to name, the one who she refused to allow to occupy more than a miniscule part of her thoughts. Makoto thought, somewhat ruefully, that with each day that passed without sight or sound of him, that tiny part grew bigger.

By this time, Kunzite had reached her bench, and was looking down at her gravely. "Good afternoon, Makoto."

She gazed up the great distance between them and wondered how Minako managed. Then again, her blonde friend was one who liked looking up at the bright skies rather than down at the pavement beneath her feet, so perhaps she managed quite well. "Hello, Kunzite. Are you just passing through the neighborhood, or can I offer you a bite to eat or something to drink?"

"I…yes, something cool to drink would be very welcome."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and she realized that he was uncharacteristically nervous. Oddly, the realization settled her, and she got to her feet with a smile. "I'll bring something out. Why don't you have a seat?" she invited, indicating the one she had just vacated.

Before he could respond, she disappeared inside. When she came out, she found that he had arranged his long limbs on the bench and carefully left a wide space for her. She had brought him a glass and refilled her own, feeling that it might lessen his anxiety if they were drinking the same thing. She suspected it was out of long habit rather than a conscious act that he waited for her to take a sip before he tried his own.

"This is very refreshing." He sounded mildly surprised, and less abstracted than he had first appeared.

"Pomegranate iced tea. It's a summer favorite." As he nodded, Makoto took pity on him and prodded gently, "If I were to go on past experience, I would guess that you're looking for something special, for someone who is close to both our hearts."

He straightened an infinitesimal amount in mild surprise, but smiled before he returned his gaze to the front. "Indeed. I appreciate your perceptiveness, Makoto. You are probably also aware that I often have difficulty expressing what I feel, and that this has troubled…me in the past. Will you help me?"

Makoto looked down at her hands, nicked by rose thorns and sore from kneading bread dough. They were helping hands, creator's hands, hands that shaped and nurtured and gave on a daily basis, and she wanted it to always be so. There was only one answer she would give, but she could choose how graciously it was imparted. "Of course. I would be happy to."

The grateful, humble look he gave her reminded her how many things had changed.

"So what kind of feelings are you hoping to express?"

He glanced away again, the dull pink creeping up his neck like her eager bougainvillea up its trellis. "I, er… you know that Minako and I, we have…renewed our acquaintance."

She tried her hardest to keep a straight face, inwardly gleeful at the thought of revealing to the other girls and Minako in particular Kunzite's use of euphemism. She didn't know of many other people who chose to renew their acquaintance in bedrooms. Many times over, at that.

Makoto gave him her full attention when he cleared his throat and finally spoke again. "I would like her to know how much I value her, and the chance that we have been given to have a new start together. And how I will do anything I can to make her happy, and how happy she makes me."

"I think I see," she said, a new warmth and wistfulness in her voice. "Come with me."

She led him to her newly cleared work station and immediately started piling it with flowers. "Let's start with lavender and lemon blossom, for devotion and faithfulness in love, and pair them with these white carnations. They'll tell her your love is pure, and that you find her sweet and lovely. Then we'll add some of these beautiful gardenias for joy, and top it all off with some heliotrope and honeysuckle."

Kunzite carefully accepted the fragrant bundle, and on a smaller man, they would have half-obscured his face. Makoto was glad she could see the expression on his face, for it told her without needing the words he found so difficult that she had gotten it right.

Before he left, she handed him a white bakery box. "It's Minako's favorite – cherry pie. She's been waiting for fresh cherries all season, and they finally came in this morning. Why don't you share it with her?"

His answering smile held his promise of fidelity, as strong and enduring as the hardy ivy plant, whose leaf was cut into the top of the pie.