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Ellen stared out at the rain pouring down, fighting the urge to doze off at her post. Usually the restaurant stayed busy on rainy days, people craving food to warm their stomachs and company to warm their hearts coming in and out all day to break up the misery of the weather, but this time they’d stayed almost empty ever since they’d opened. She didn’t know if it was because the deluge was so fierce, though it was still too early for the wild summer storms that would have kept them from bothering to open at all, or because everyone was still tired from the Flower Festival the day before and decided to stay in when the weather took a turn instead of venturing out.
After the entire usual stretch that would have been the lunch rush had passed without a single patron Ellen’s mom had finally declared that she was leaving Ellen in charge of the restaurant for the rest of the day while she dragged Ellen’s dad back to work on some housework they’d been too busy to complete. If any customers came in Ellen was to call her parents back up instead of trying to serve them alone, but otherwise there was nothing for her to do but wait. Draggingly, boringly, wait.
She wished that she’d at least thought to grab a book to pass the time. She’d already scrubbed down everything once, had two cakes in the oven and cookie dough waiting for when they left it, there was no one outside to let her people watch, and she was running out of ideas for other things she could do to stop the hours from dragging. If she could go back to that morning she would tell herself not to let a little, or even a whole lot of, rain stop her from going to take her usual place watching the animals at her uncle’s store. Helping him muck out old bedding and spread out feed would at least have been a better way to spend the day.
Even standing at her usual spot outside and getting drenched would have been a better way to spend it. She could have let her inner five-year-old loose and played at puddle-hopping and at least been more entertained.
She was pulling her cakes out of the oven, trying to decide whether it would be worth a lecture from her mom over leaving the restaurant unstaffed for even a minute to run back and grab that book once they were settled, when she almost jumped out of her skin at the door opening for the first time in hours.
“Welcome!” she chirped in her best customer service voice, only to almost trip over her own feet when she attempted to whirl around and face whoever it was and bob a small bow at the exact same time. She was only saved by a strong, if very wet, arm catching her around her waist before she could fall.
“Careful, I’d rather have a waitress who’s all in one piece than a greeting,” a warm voice that was slowly becoming familiar told her, and Ellen flushed and hopped forward then tried to disguise the move as her catching her balance instead of shying away in embarrassment.
Why should she be embarrassed anyway? She’d once seen Jack plant his foot ankle-deep in a cowpat then almost fall over the fence trying to shake it away once while he was checking out the livestock at the shop, this was only making them even.
Her dignity soothed she finally turned to look at him, only to cry out, “"Oh no!” before she could help it. As he cocked his head at her obvious distress she started shooing him towards the oven and went on, “You’re too soaked. You might catch a cold unless you dry yourself soon."
“Am I allowed in the kitchen during business hours?” he asked with a grin as she dragged a chair up for him to sit, looking as cheerful as if he weren’t doing his best imitation of a drowned rat. She didn’t know how he could smile like that after wandering around outside for at least how long it took to get from his farm into town without an umbrella—longer than even that, she suspected, since he was holding a bundle of some type of flower she didn’t recognize from either Nina’s shop or his farm which she thought must have meant a trip up the mountain besides—or why he’d kept pressing on all the way through it instead of turning back for home.
She wondered if he’d just assumed it would stop soon. The other rains that spring had been gentle enough, and he hadn’t lived there long enough to experience one of their summer storms yet. Maybe he just didn’t realize how wet days could get in Flower Bud Village.
“Mom left me in charge,” she said firmly as she sat him in front of the oven, the heat still radiating off of it from her baking even though she’d closed it behind her, “and as the one in charge I say that you’re allowed. There’s no spot better than here to warm you up, and look!” she sliced a large, still steaming, piece out of the spice cake she’d just pulled out of the oven, flavorful enough that it should be delicious even without waiting to frost more than the the butter cake beside it would be, and handed it to him on a plate, “You had perfect timing to warm up your insides too. No charge, okay? My next rule as the one in charge is free cake for anyone who comes in looking like they’re trying to make themselves sick.”
“Well, I can’t argue with the rules,” he said, flashing her another of those bright grins before digging in.
He only used one hand, she couldn’t help but notice, balancing the plate on his knee so he didn’t need to hold it and could keep the flowers in his hand while he ate. She wondered who they could be for, whether it would be Nina or Maria. It had to be one of them, she thought, they were the type of girls that a boy would look at and think they’d like flowers. Her stomach twisted as she was thinking about it, though she couldn’t say why. Maybe she was coming down with a cold herself.
She busied herself pulling out her waiting cookie dough and beginning to drop rounds of it on a sheet as an excuse to turn her back to him, hiding the small frown she hadn’t been able to hold back at the squirming feeling inside her until she could get it under control. “What in the world were you even doing out there, Jack?” she asked to fill the air before the mood could turn strained. “No one should be out on a day like this; just ask our cash register, it’ll tell you that the village has become a place full of homebodies.”
“If I’d known it would be this bad I might have held off myself,” he said with a laugh, “but I’d seen these growing in a crack in the mountain wall the day before yesterday, and I was afraid if I waited any longer I’d forget where they were. Or, even worse, that the rain would destroy them.” She heard him shifting and thought he must be looking at the flowers in his hand.
“I don’t think anyone would say a handful of flowers was worth it if you get sick over them, no matter how pretty they are,” she told him firmly, even as she kept her eyes fixed on her cookies.
“It’s not just that they’re pretty. I found them because they smelled so good that the wind carried it down to me. And nobody told me about the traditions of the Flower Festival before hand, I didn’t know I should save up money so I could buy perfume.” She could hear his chair scratching across the floor to tell her he’d pushed off of it, but still she didn’t look back. Of course there would have been someone he wanted to court at the festival. Why shouldn’t there be? And he’d hardly begun making his start at the farm, how much could he have in the way of savings when he had to keep putting his earnings back into it? Lucky Nina. Lucky Maria. Lucky whichever of them had caught his eye.
Then suddenly his arm was curving around her again, the bright blue buds appearing before her eyes. Up close she was even more sure they were nothing she’d ever seen before, not one of the common flowers from the mountain, and the sweet scent of them drifted easily to her as his hand moved. “Happy Flower Festival, Ellen,” he said, his voice near her ear, “Here’s something sweet smelling for you. Sorry it’s a day late.”
“But I don’t even like perfume,” she said numbly, the words slipping out of her mouth without a thought.
He was close enough that she could feel his body freeze rigid for just a second, before he started shifting away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you un—”
She reached up quick as a flash and caught his hand tightly in both of hers before he could pull it away, careful not to to crush the buds. “I don’t like perfume, and… and nobody looks at me and thinks I like flowers. They look at me and think ‘Oh, she chops all her hair off, and likes mucking around with animals, someone like her wouldn’t like pretty girly things.’ They’re really for me?”
She could tell that he was relaxing once more as she spoke. After a moment his other hand settled on her shoulder and gently pulled her to turn and face him, and, oh, she wouldn’t have thought his smiles could get any warmer than they always were but somehow this one was. She could stare at it all day and still not have her fill. “Anyone who’d think you don’t like flowers couldn’t have ever watched you weaving crowns for your uncle’s cows. And I’m glad I didn’t have a thousand gold to spare if you wouldn’t have liked that gift anyway. But if I could have left everyone at the festival thinking there was a girl who’s caught my eye anyway, it would have been you. I know we don’t know each other much yet, and all I have to my name is a farm that’s still half-ruins, but I’d sure like it a lot if we worked on getting to know each other better.” He flushed suddenly, and she could feel an answering warmth in her own face, “Then maybe by the time there’s more to me you’ll already know if you think I’m worth it, instead of waiting until I think I’m worth it to try and show you it’s true. Would you take my flowers, Ellen?”
A slow smile stretched across her face that she couldn’t possibly resist, and she pulled the flowers to her nose to breathe them in deeply, her hands still curled around his to guide them instead of taking the blossoms away from him. “I need to go find them a vase real fast, then after that… the rain’s not set to stop all day. Stay and keep me company, won’t you?”