Skies & Florets

Chapter 1

Dinner at our house is always a quiet affair.

Mama likes to keep things peaceful, and the way she kneads dough is rhythmic and steady, like the beating of a heart. On the other hand, Papa enjoys the silence because it gives him time to think, his eyes are always distant as if he's painting something in his mind that only he can see. But tonight, I have something special to tell them, and my excitement bubbles up like the soup simmering on the stove.

The kitchen is warm, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the rich aroma of stew that Mama's been working on all afternoon. I sit at the wooden table, my feet swinging back and forth, barely brushing the floor. The table is set simply, as it always is—two candles flickering gently in the center, their light dancing off the polished surface. The curtains are drawn back, letting in the last rays of the setting sun, which casts a golden hue over everything, making the kitchen feel even cozier.

Mama moves gracefully between the stove and the table, setting down the stew in front of me with a smile. "Be careful, Lilac! It's hot," she warns, but there's a softness in her voice, like she's amused by how eager I am.

I nod, trying my best to sit still, though I'm bursting to share my news.

Papa joins us, placing his sketchbook on the counter before sitting down. His hands are stained with paint, as usual, and his hair is a bit messier than it was this morning. I think it makes him look more like an artist, which he is.

He smiles at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You seem excited, my little flower. What's on my princess' mind?"

I can't hold it in any longer. "I met a boy today!" I blurt out, my voice a little too loud for the quiet kitchen. The words tumble out, and I see Mama and Papa exchange a look, one of those looks they share when they're trying not to laugh.

"A boy you say?" Mama asks, her eyebrows raised as she ladles stew into her bowl. "And who might this boy be?"

"His name is Quentin," I say proudly, feeling important just saying his name. "I was making a daisy crown under the big oak tree, and he just came out of the bushes! He was hiding, but I saw him right away. It's funny."

Papa chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair. "And what was this Quentin doing in the bushes?"

"He said he was hiding," I explain, picking up my spoon and blowing on the hot stew. "But I don't think he was very good at it! He looked surprised to see me," I laughed.

Mama's smile grows as she takes a sip of her soup. "I see. And what did you two do next? Did you make a new friend?"