"might be," she says, but it's more than that. she recalls the athlete, the 'no one's worth my time but me' attitude. again, most days she spent with bo were with him, not his kin. young and dumb and in love - how long ago it feels. 

"mm, dunno if that'll stop him. kid's got an army and weedle are pretty light." she smiles and draws her hand back from the cacnea. its arms pinwheel as it begrudgingly settles back down after the stimulating pets. 

elisabet bends to pick some flowers and holds them out to the pokemon and its trainer. 

"i came out to do some sketching, but your boy and my elisabet seem like they want a bit of a workout. and i've needed some more helpers around the greenhouse. what do you say, cian? care to partner with me for a bit and hunt down some wild pokemon?"

CIAN MAHER

☉

regret. guilt. things she'd never thought she'd get to see pictured on his face. not in this lifetime, at least. as hard as it's going to be later (when it really hits her), he's come back to her as best he could. what better way is there, when you've abandoned someone for eight years?

"i appreciate the sentiment," she says and delicately extracts the shovel from him. "but you ought to relax some. the gloom can sense your nervousness. and you're not going to like it when they decide to do something about it." her nose scrunches at the thought. she turns, avoiding stepping too close in his personal bubble, and suddenly she feels clumsy. awkward. out of her element. 

her hands slip on the shovel and she makes a noise in the back of her throat. her hair unspools from more of her bun as she jerks the shovel into the ground and she's thankful for the curtain that hides some of the tint on her cheeks. 

"they're still young and they haven't been ingrained for very long. their roots shouldn't be more than five inches. so measure that and then," she instructs, kicking her heel against the spade and burying it in the earth. she presses down and draws up dirt. one of the gloom topples and shakes free. 

"see? easy." she holds the shovel back out. "and if you cut a root, it's not the end of the world. they'll grow back just fine." her eyes soften as she looks upon the patch. "they're resilient creatures."

boruta maher

☉

"mm, you sure? makes you look quite intimidating." sarcasm drips from her mouth. there are startling ways that he's changed, yes, and surely she will lose herself when he's gone, and after roman's gone to bed. she'll curl up and shed her tears and in the morning she will be all the stronger for it.

but now, looking at his hands the way they are, it's easy not to think about the ones who used to hold her. besides, roman will probably be impressed, if anything, and she's not sure whether or not that pisses her off. 

her gaze softens a bit when he adds i don't usually drink, by the way, and she wants to say that he doesn't have to do this, but he does and they do, because she doesn't know him. 

i don't know him i don't know him i don't know him. 

she chases the familiarity away, the nostalgia of the ease that comes with talking to him. but not entirely. because she gives him something in return, even though this isn't how it's supposed to work. 

"i like to end my work days with a couple of ciders. a client brought me some a few years ago from their brewery as thanks and i was hooked."

she eyes the immobile shovel. "you need me to show you again?'

boruta maher

☉

"water under the bridge," she says. "'sides, we've both changed. i barely recognize you." she gives him a once-over as well, not really minding his own gaze. again, she'd never really been around cian much, but now that roman's going to have a relationship with the maher family, maybe she should. 

she reaches out tentatively, fingers half curled, towards the cacnea. she's slow in her movements, keeps her eyes within sight of the creature, and it's still wary when she touches its forehead, but slow circles on its green skin have it relaxing almost instantly. 

"i'm sure we can find some lemon balm around here. weedle hate it. should be enough to keep it away from your face." she grins. "because gods know i can't control that kid."

CIAN MAHER

☉

nephew and his weedle. is that what's been chewing holes in all her plants? even gideon's had a couple of nips in his leaves and the turtwig is usually the bully, not the victim. she laughs and then folds her sketchbook, puts it in her bag before standing up and sticking a hand out to cian. 

"willow," she says and her eyes soften as she adds, "mother of said nephew. it's...good? to see you again, cian."

she doesn't fault him for not recognizing her. roman looks more like bo than he ever has her and cian never really minded willow anyway. she was just 'bo's girlfriend' and most of their time together was spent on their own, away from that house. 

CIAN MAHER

☉

it takes until he's approached and spoken to her for her to place him. her stomach does a bit of a flip - she'd let bo back into her life two years ago, has heard about his brothers through roman, and yet she's been a coward all this time. she should have met them, especially cian, especially after what roman's not told her. 

but secrets and lies and fear, all of it's easy to ignore when it's swept under the rug.

"pointing is rude, elisabet," she says as he approaches. the leavanny's antennae twitch annoyedly; elisabet turns away, but she doesn't leave. of course not. her trainer needs her support right now. 

a smile dimples willow's features. she puts down her pencil and looks up at the man. "cute cacnea."

CIAN MAHER

☉

maybe he really does mean it. but she must hold fast, keep her resolve close to her, because he hasn't given anything yet. not really. he may stay however long she needs him and even then, he still might walk away after meeting roman. and if not after meeting him, then after realizing it's not going to be easy. in fact, it's going to be real. fucking. hard. 

because i've done all i can, but i couldn't do enough, and he's so angry all the time, bo. and i don't understand it. she holds her breath and doesn't say this because it's shameful. she doesn't want him to meet roman because, ultimately, she fears he will leave him - and while that's true, part of her is terrified he'll see all of roman's cracks and flaws and think you could have done better. 

"yes," she says, "we're starting now." the gloom she'd corralled with her foot springs free and bounces over bo's shovel. willow skirts around and catches it gracefully, hands still gloved. she flattens her palms against its bulbous petals, gloved hands protecting her from poisons should it try to irritate her. 

but after a bit of coaxing, it settles down and plops onto its butt. willow sprinkles some dirt on it to keep it occupied, looking over it to watch bo work with a frown. 

he sinks the spade maybe an inch into the ground. she raises a brow, but it's not really at his work. it's at whatever the fuck he's done to his hands. 

"does that say...death?"

boruta maher

☉

it's not often she gets days to herself. but adelaide has urged her for the past several weeks to take at least a couple of days off, to get away from the house and all its responsibilities. willow loves her for it, and said as much, leaving a carnation wrapped in arborvitae on the counter beside ada's french press. 

elisabet is at her side and willow's decided to spend her day doing what she's never had time to do - journal in her book with her colored pencils and her nice pens, cataloguing the local flora. 

she has a small pouch at her side with a couple of glass vials in it. though she doesn't collect samples for anything scientific, she likes to press some of the prettier ones and use them for crafts. whenever roman doesn't get into them, that is.

so she's sketching the spreads of some ground ivy when elisabet tugs at her arm and points to the passerby down the road. 

CIAN MAHER

☉

i have a lot more to say, i swear. she wants to know. she wants to pick apart his brain and ask him why he's never come to her before, why he's coming here now. eight years has made her wary, has made her put up walls. but giving roman a father is the only reason she won't shoo bo away from her garden. 

still, he's a stranger. a lot can change in a few short years.

she lets him talk, lets him get it out, and then sighs. "as long as it's on my terms." she shoves the spade into the earth again with another crunching sound. "because i don't trust you. and until i can, i don't want roman knowing who you are."

she wiggles the shovel. one of the gloom finally pop free. drool dribbles down its front as it takes a few tentative steps forward; roots trail at its ankles and willow nudges it with her foot while still holding the shovel and trying to dig out the rest. 

then she pauses and closes a bit of that distance between herself and bo and holds the shovel out to him. 

"you'll come tend the plants with me at least five days a week. you'll leave before roman gets home. you'll prove to me that you're not going to run away again. and you're - oh, stop that!" she pushes the shovel into bo so she can turn and stop the gloom back burrowing its way back into the earth. 

damn, seein' you is something else... she shakes her head and purses her lips, annoyed that of all the things he'd said, that's what's floating about in her mind. 

"be gentle. go in at a curve and a few inches away from their base so you don't pierce the roots. i'll herd them."

boruta maher

☉

she doesn't expect him to get it all out at once. yes, she's run this moment over in her head a hundred and one times. mostly it ended anticlimactically, with the last loose end tied and the rest of her future waiting for her. some release. but there are times, at her lowest, loneliest points, where she thinks of him as he was - young and sweet and full of dreams for the two of them, as foolish as he'd sounded then (as foolish as she had been to believe him). 

her shovel bears her weight as she leans against it and listens to him bumble. at the mention of her plants, she peers at the greenhouse walls. what grass-types hadn't been planted have their faces pressed curiously to the wall. 

it's sweet, really. heartbreakingly so. but he can't break her more than he already has. but indignance, she can feel. indignance has heat pooling in her cheeks. that after all this time, he's come here to give her money. 

are you here because he's gone? 

her face twists and so does her heel as she turns around on him. she shoves the spade into the earth and kicks with her heel; one of the gloom makes an aggravated sound as it's jostled. and all at once her fury calms. her movements are slower, more deliberate, as she worms the spade around to carefully uproot the pokemon.

"we don't need your money. and i don't care that you're sorry. it's been eight years, bo. eight. years. you and i, we were a lifetime ago." she stands up, wipes her brow, finally looks at him - really looks at him. 

"we both know you fucked up. maybe i never forgave you, maybe i can't forgive you, but i've let it go. i've made my peace. and roman? say and do whatever you want to me, but i will not let you come crashing into his life only to leave."

her eyes are cold. "you will not hurt my son. so if all you wanted was to come and give us money, then go."

boruta maher

☉