Chapter 1
Spring was in full bloom, with a light breeze causing the leaves in the trees to dance to a tune only they knew. The sun was already warming the Earth, and Lucien despised every moment of it. He walked leisurely down the sidewalk, faces blurring into an unclear mess as he passed people, talking, rushing; the city was too alive this early. Someone bumped into him, and he thought he heard them apologize, but he didn’t look back or bother to confirm. It didn’t matter. He reached the store at seven fifteen, the same as every day, and unlocked the door. Lucien was allowed to mentally brace himself before he entered, pausing in the doorway to gaze at the business they’d built together.
Shelves lined the walls, positioned to look like a bookstore because that was the only thing Lucien asked for. Plants of all kinds lived on those shelves: succulents, small rose bushes that would need replanting soon, orchids, chia plants, various flowers, small fruit and vegetable trees. Lucien stared until his eyes burned; only then did he walk in to put his belongings on the front desk, grabbing the keys for the back door, where the greenhouse, yard area, and more delicate plant life were. He walked through the rows, mentally noting which plants needed pruning, which were overgrown with weeds, and what needed watering.
He reached the far back, rolled up his sleeves, grabbed the watering can to fill, and switched on the sprinkler system in the yard as he walked back to the plants. He grabbed the shears lying on a nearby table and started pruning the lavender, throwing the excess into a nearby wheelbarrow. It was silent as the roads settled down, most people having reached their places of work, and Lucien much preferred this to the general background noise humans made. He heard the door opening again and assumed either Camie or Emily had arrived and were clocking in. Lucien kept himself busy as the employees dealt with the front, refusing to allow himself to look up at his surroundings, afraid he’d see something he didn’t want to.
“Mornin’ boss,” Camie greeted, hands moving to tie her hair up. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
“Prune,” Lucien said simply as he handed her the shears.
Camie sighed as she took over his work. The bell above the door chimed again, and Lucien assumed it was Emily this time. He set to moving a few potted plants that were ready to be sold by the door, catching Emily’s eyes and gesturing for her to help. They moved the plants to the front, and Lucien left Emily to organize them on the shelves as he moved fertilizer and compost bags into neat rows. He took a clipboard nearby to take stock and noted what he’d need to order.
Once everything was attended to, Lucien washed his hands, went back inside, sorted through papers, set his things aside, and walked to the door to flip the sign to ‘Open.’ He passed Emily and Camie, the two whispering to one another, and sat down to work through his finances when the succulent on the corner of the table caught his eye, causing him to freeze. He reached out to rub one of the thick, fleshy leaves, cool to the touch, and holding so many memories. He stared at it and couldn’t help remembering the day it was gifted to him. They’d moved it here when they opened the nursery six years ago as a reminder of what they were working towards when things became difficult. The jade plant was seven years old, and its existence here on Lucien’s desk was a burden he could never bring himself to get rid of.
The door opening drew Lucien’s attention away, and he didn’t bother plastering a friendly look on his face, waving towards Emily for her to help the customer. He switched to ordering new supplies. The store was rarely busy early in the mornings, and Lucien always took this time to sort through what he considered to be the boring side of the job. Not that any of it was fun. He ate lunch at his desk, avoiding looking at the succulent, and went back to work when he was done. The day droned on, and he barely listened to Camie and Emily’s conversations, something about the guy who asked Emily for her number three weeks ago at the cafe they visited. He didn’t care much for the details.
Near closing time, someone entered the store, and Lucien stared listlessly as the person walked in, seemingly sheepish. Lucien squinted as the man looked around, browsing the nearby shelves with an air of rather annoying curiosity. He made himself look suspicious with the way he held himself. The man hummed in thought as he stared at a tomato plant for far too long before glancing Lucien’s way and finally making his way over.
“Hello again,” he said, his hands hanging awkwardly at his sides.
“Hello,” Lucien greeted dully, staring at this faceless man. “How can I help you today?”
The man rubbed the back of his neck. “I have a question,” he said, hesitating a moment. “Do tomatoes get jealous if I plant cucumbers nearby?”
Lucien stared at him, feeling as close to flabbergasted as possible. He remembered the man now; the ridiculous arsenal of questions was telling. He came in nearly every day, looked at the plant he wanted to ask about, and gathered courage for the question of the day, as Lucien assumed. It would be amusing if Lucien didn’t start worrying about the state of his garden and possibly his mental health. Just last week he’d asked if basil would taste better if he told it it was doing a good job.
No. They also don’t like filing taxes.
“…No.”
“Are you sure?” The man asked. “I don’t want Sarah to feel neglected if I plant cucumbers next to her.”
Lucien nearly asked, but decided to save himself the headache. “It’s fine.”
The man nodded. “Cool, cool. Uhm.” He hesitated, and Lucien assumed he was thinking something through. “Can I get some cucumber seeds then?”
“Camie,” Lucien called, turning to see her and Emily standing close by, failing to hide their giggling. “Get him some seeds.”
“For sure, boss,” Camie said with a salute and walked away.
Lucien sighed as he typed on the register and told the man the price, taking the cash and handing him his change. He muttered a goodbye to the cheerful declaration that he would be back tomorrow. Camie turned to Emily, sharing a look with her twin, and Lucien could just feel something brewing between the two.
“He’s cute,” Camie commented in an obviously loud manner.
“Yeah,” Emily agreed, and Lucien could see her put her hands on her cheeks. “I wonder what his name is? Probably something cute but manly at the same time, right? Like Nathan, or Kyle.”
“I hope to God it’s not Kyle,” Camie muttered.
“What’s wrong with Kyle?” Emily asked defensively.
“Sounds like the name of a gym bro.”
Emily gasped, offended. “There’s nothing wrong with gym bros! They’re tough softies. Who doesn’t like a muscular guy?”
“It’d be fine if most gym bros weren’t so obsessed with the alpha sigma mindset bullshit, and Kyle suits the stereotype,” Camie pointed out.
“But question guy doesn’t look the type.”
Camie hummed, crossing her arms in thought. “He’s definitely fit, but I wouldn’t say he’s a stereotypical gym bro. Probably a David or something.”
“That’s the most boring name you could have chosen,” Emily said and laughed softly.
“Girls,” Lucien called, looking at them over the rim of his glasses. “Back to work.”
The day went by slowly as any other, and Lucien wondered what he’d have for dinner as he ushered the two girls out, denying they could stay longer than necessary and refusing to acknowledge their expressions. They could worry all they wanted; Lucien was just fine. It was dark by the time he locked up and headed out, everything blending into a mess of color and noise once more, but he focused on getting to his empty house. Well, not entirely empty, he supposed. Aggressive mewing greeted him when he opened the door, a black and white car weaving between his legs as he shuffled inside, careful not to step on her. He set his things down and picked her up, her tiny body vibrating with the force of her purr.
“Oreo, did you have a good day?” He asked, smiling as she rubbed her head against his chin. “I know, I know. Dinner is on the way.”
She jumped out of his arms and ran to the kitchen and gracefully jumped onto the counter, meowing again. He sighed softly as he followed to serve her dinner, staring at the nearly empty fridge before deciding a sandwich was good enough. He showered after his lackluster meal, and in the fogged bathroom mirror he noted his roots growing out, making a mental note to go to the store to grab boxed dye to touch them up. The last thing he needed was his natural ashy brown color to show too much through the black. Camie always told him his natural color seemed murky, and he could somewhat agree, especially after the accident.
Oreo was already waiting for him on his pillow. Gratitude settled comfortably over him as he ignored the framed photo on his bedside table, scooping the kitten into his arms and settling into bed. She struggled under the weight of the blanket until she settled on his elbow. Sleep never came easy, but Oreo made it less of a chore than it used to be. He stared anywhere but at the photo. He should have moved.
