“Kent?”

He turns around, blinking in surprise.

“Jamie?”

I step inside and close the door behind myself. My eyes flick automatically to Ripley’s desk, but it’s empty. Kent is the only other person in the room.

“Hi.” I join him by the door of Gabby’s office. “What are you doing here?”

“I got an email.”

I hold up my phone and raise an eyebrow. “Me, too.”

“Any idea why my girlfriend had her assistant email me a calendar invitation? This is not normally how we make plans.”

“Really? I wouldn’t be surprised, if it was.”

“Ha, ha.”

“But no, I have no idea.”

“Well, I guess we’ll find out s-”

Gabby’s office door flies open, and a guy in a rumpled suit storms out. He brushes right past us, muttering to himself. Gabby follows him out of the office and stops next to Kent, looking very much like she’s about to run out of patience.

Sour-face reaches the door of the waiting area, stops, and spins around.

“You know,” he begins heatedly, then cuts off as Gabby holds up a hand.

“Tony. This meeting is over. If you need more of my time, you can schedule it. Talk to Renee, she manages my calendar.”

Tony’s scowl grows even deeper.

“This is a goddamn joke. The old City Manager never made me do that, he was always ready to lend an ear-”

“I am not your friend,” Gabby interrupts. “I’m your boss, and sooner or later you’re going to need to accept that. This is a simple staff issue. I shouldn’t need to hold your hand. Frankly, this has already taken up too much of my time. Don’t you think it’s taken up enough of yours?”

Tony glares at her, his fingers closing around his City Hall badge like he’s considering tearing it off and throwing it on the ground. Gabby watches him, her expression completely neutral. He releases the badge, turns, and leaves, closing the door with more force than strictly necessary.

The moment he’s gone, Gabby sighs and presses her hands to her face, carefully avoiding smearing her makeup.

“Hi.” Kent gently rests a hand on her shoulder, the concern in his voice apparent. “Everything okay? What’s that guy’s-?”

“Let’s talk in my office.”

Gabby closes the door after us and drops into the big black swivel chair behind her desk. Kent and I take the seats in front of it. He pulls something out of his bag and nudges it across the desk to Gabby: a small brown box with a stamp from a local bakery on the side. Gabby opens it, then lets out a tired laugh.

She extracts the croissant and takes a bite, gazing at Kent affectionately.

“Thank you, tesoro. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that fucking guy?” I ask, pointing over my shoulder. “Feels like he definitely shouldn’t treat you like that.”

“Seconded,” Kent growls, shooting a menacing glare at the door where Tony disappeared.

Gabby rolls her head from side to side, stretching out her neck.

“He’s upset because I told him to fire someone from his department. He’s been dragging it out by scheduling long meetings with me to argue about it. It’s been just delightful.”

“Oh.” Kent winces. “God, that’s - wait, can’t you just fire that person?”

“That would be the quickest way to deal with it, yes, but it sends the wrong message.” Gabby leans her chin on her palm. “I told Tony to do it, which means that Tony has to be the one to do it. He needs to understand that the instructions I give him aren’t optional. And if I go fire his employee, well - he gets what he wants. He doesn’t have to be the bad guy. He’ll think he can use this tactic every time I give him a task he doesn’t want to do.”

Sometimes I forget how many steps ahead Gabby is thinking.

“Well, his plan is backfiring,” Kent grumbles. “He very much looks like the bad guy to me.”

“Mmm.” Gabby shrugs and pops another bite of croissant into her mouth. “It’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with people on the campaign trail that make Tony look like a kitten. He wouldn’t even get the bronze medal, believe me.”

“Still.” Kent reaches across the desk, and Gabby gives his hand a squeeze.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t even be talking about it.” She brushes the croissant crumbs into the packaging and sets it aside. “That’s not why I brought you guys in. Just give me a second to switch gears.”

She opens one of her desk drawers, coral nail polish flashing as she flicks speedily through a row of folders. She finds the one she’s searching for and sits back to look at us.

“Alright,” she says briskly. “Thank you both for coming. This shouldn’t take long. I’ve already got the paperwork dealt with, if we decide to move forward.”

“Um.” I glance at Kent, but he genuinely seems as confused as I am. “Sorry, move forward with what?”

Gabby steeples her fingers, sets her elbows on her armrests.

“Kent told me that Ellen suddenly has a lot to say on the topic of tree pests, and cutting down trees, and how trees work together and have systems. I asked her where she got all that information, and she said from you, Jamie.”

“Oh. Yeah, she watched me debug Kent’s cherry tree.”

“She was talking about it very passionately. If she was a little older, I’d think she was the person behind that covert act of protest last night.”

Now I’m completely lost. “Act of protest?”

“The one about the trees being cut down by the school. You didn’t hear? My press team tells me it’s getting some social media traction.” Gabby reaches into her drawer again, extracts two printed photos, and slides them across the desk to me. I pick them up, and Kent leans over for a look.

The first photo shows a cluster of trees. Their wide trunks are each separately marked with a spray-painted, six-digit number.

“I don’t get it,” I tell Gabby.

“The trees are marked with numbers for cutting purposes, but there should only be four digits. Someone went and added extra numbers to the codes already painted on the trees, and then marked a lot of other trees around the area. Now the crews don’t know where they’re supposed to cut. It’s set back work by at least a week or two, while they figure out a new way to mark the trees. Something that can’t be tampered with so easily.”

I pick up the other photo. It’s a shot of the other side of the same trees. Across their trunks, in gigantic, dripping letters, someone has painted two words.

VIRGIN SACRIFICE

The way it’s written out, it’s easily viewable from the street. In fact, there’s a pedestrian in the corner of this photo, standing on the sidewalk, taking their own picture with their phone.

The drips look intentional, now that I look closer. Like tears. The bright white lettering is too well-executed for it to be an accident.

“Holy shit,” I mutter.

“Oh, damn,” Kent says. His eyebrows shoot up. “Hang on a sec, you don’t really think that my nine-year-old-?”

“No, of course not, Kent.” Gabby waves a hand at him. “Whoever did this knows their way around a can of spray paint, and they must have an eye. They matched the handwriting and the colors used by the felling crew perfectly. Anyways, we believe that this was done in the middle of the night. I’m only saying that it reminded me of Ellen, when it was brought to my attention. Because she suddenly seems very interested in this kind of thing.”

Gabby’s eyes land on me again.

“Um - where are you going with this?” I feel like I’m in trouble, but I’m not sure why. “Should I not have told her-? Ellen was just asking me some questions, and I-”

I break off as Gabby holds up a hand again.

“Jamie. It struck me, how clearly Ellen understood everything that you told her about. Especially because Kent tells me that hours of doing flashcards and worksheets won't help anything stick in her head.”

“Oh.” Maybe I’m not in trouble, after all. “That’s - good?”

“Yes,” Gabby agrees. “That’s why I thought of this.” She slides the folder to Kent, who picks it up and starts thumbing through it. “I’ve spoken with Ellen’s school. They’re willing to exempt her from biology class if she’s willing to do an independent study. If Kent gives you one less shift per week at the flower shop, Jamie, you’ll have time to tutor Ellen. Biology is at the end of the day, Tuesdays and Thursdays, so. She can just come home early, and you can schedule your time with her however you want.”

Kent and I stare at Gabby. It takes me a minute to process what she’s saying.

“Me? Wait a minute, I don’t - I’m not qualified for this! All I did was tell her a few facts about a cherry tree, I’m no biologist-”

“We’d be calling it Environmental Studies.”

“No, but Gabby, I’m not a botanist, I’m not a scientist, I - I just like plants!”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I can’t explain that stuff that Kent was talking about - lysomites-”

“Lysosomes,” Kent corrects automatically, his eyes moving back to the folder. He runs a thoughtful hand over his beard, clearly a little speechless.

“Yeah, I don’t know any of that shit! She’s not going to learn any of that from me.”

“She’s not learning it from her teachers, either, Jamie.” Gabby observes me calmly, unblinking in the face of my obvious distress. “Let’s call this an experiment. We can test out whether Ellen learns better and feels happier with this kind of education. Hands-on, personal. I think she could benefit from it. In fact, I think she already has. You can decide the structure, how you want to teach her about things. If this works better for her, we can take steps to get her someplace that offers this kind of learning.” She gestures to the folder. “I’ve broken down the details. You’ll be paid the same amount you’d make during a shift at the shop. Destinee and Kent can alternate picking up an extra shift every week to cover you. I asked her, and she’s on board, if it’ll help Kent out.”

“But - but-”

“The school is fine with it,” Gabby continues. “I have a document signed by the principal, and by Ellen’s current science teacher. He seemed relieved, which I thought was rather unprofessional.”

“Gabby,” Kent breathes, closing the folder. “You did all this, without even - you-” He stares at her, his face positively glowing, and she blows him a kiss, gold bangles jingling.

“What? Kent, you’re seriously cool with this?” I twist to look at him. “You do realize - if Ellen goes back into regular science classes next year, she’s not going to know all the stuff that the kids in the normal classes learned, and I know how important her college prospects are to you-”

“Like Gabby said, she’s not learning any of it, anyways. At best, she remembers until the test is over. And if this is going to make her happier…”

“I - you guys - I’m not a teacher!”

“No, but…” Kent nods to himself, coming to some kind of decision. “I’ve been watching her struggle endlessly to memorize the parts of a plant cell, and… at this point, I’d rather watch her learn how to plant a tree.”

~~~~

“Why are you smiling like that?” I ask, frowning down at Aiden from my perch on his desk. He laughs, leaning forward in his chair and resting his elbows on my knees.

“Because I think it’s a good idea.” He gives my thigh a little scratch. “And it’s sort of a huge compliment that both Kent and Gabby want you for this. You haven’t realized, because you’re too busy freaking out.”

“But-” I begin, then stop, thinking it over.

“Jamie. I know you’re overwhelmed right now, but you could teach Ellen a lot. I’ve learned a lot from you. I was there listening when you talked to her about this stuff. I know you’re not exactly a teacher, but... I think you’re brilliant. I think you’d do great.”

He lifts my hands to his mouth and gently brushes a kiss onto my knuckles.

My cheeks are burning like a raging wildfire, and when Aiden looks up, he lets out a startled burst of laughter.

“Holy shit, dude. Do I need to pull some heat out of your face right now?”

“No, I just - no.” I can’t stop smiling at him. “That was just nice. Thank you.”

“Well, I mean it. Did you already tell them no?”

“I told them I’d think it over.”

“You know, worst-case scenario, you give Ellen a temporary break from a class she hates. And you can help groom the next vandal to sabotage a tree-cutting site.”

“You heard about that? I had to get that info from Gabby.”

“There’s been a bit of chatter about it, yeah. I guess the graffiti prompted someone to start a petition about protecting the trees? The guys in Public Works think it’s funny. They all signed it ironically.”

“Nice,” I grumble.

“Yeah, I know. But - Jamie, I honestly think you should give this some consideration. If it makes things easier for Ellen…”

Aiden fades off, lets me sit with that.

“I guess… I guess I’ll try. But when she fails - what science do they teach in fifth grade?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, when she fails fifth-grade science, they can’t blame me. I warned them.”

“Or, alternatively, she’ll have moved to a different kind of school when she hits fifth grade, because one very sweet plant-loving complainer helped her prove that it would help.”

I try to frown at him. End up smiling again.

“Whatever.” I tip forward for a kiss, and Aiden leans up to meet me halfway, warm hands still spread on my thighs.

“You alright?” he murmurs. “You seemed a little - pressed.”

“Yes, I’m okay now. Thank you.” I pull back and trace a hand over his cheek. “How about you, are you okay?”

His smile falls a little.

“Yes. I’m sorry about this morning. I should have warned you about the dreams.”

I press my forehead to his. “Babe. Stop apologizing for stuff that isn’t your fault.”

Aiden shakes his head, moving mine, too.

“It doesn’t happen like that every time, I promise. Just the - bad ones.”

“It’s okay.” For once I’m at an angle to give him a forehead kiss. “Even if it did… after what you’ve been through, I wouldn’t blame you, not one bit.”

We sit there quietly for a moment, until someone knocks on the door. Aiden hastily draws back, taking his hands from my knees. “Yep?”

Ripley steps inside, a stack of papers in his hands.

“Hey, Ripples!” Aiden stands up and accepts the papers from him. “Are these from Gabby?”

“Yep. She told me to drop them off before I left for the day.”

Aiden flips through the pages, and I hop down from the desk.

“Ripley! I showed Noah your design. He was knocked on his ass.”

“Oh, really? He hasn’t said anything about it.”

“He hasn’t?” I ask, surprised. Ripley shrugs, fidgeting his fingers, and my eyes land on his hands. “Oh, no paint today, huh?”

His fingers are free of their usual colorful stains.

“Finally scrubbed it all off. Took forever,” he says, and then, to Aiden - “Everything look okay?”

“Yep. Thanks, man.”

“It’s almost weird to see him with no paint on his hands, don’t you think?” I ask, when the door closes behind Ripley. “I’m so used to it. I wonder why he-? They’re going to get stained again immediately, right?”

“I don’t know.” Aiden drops the papers on his desk. “But it looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me.”

“I’ll get out of your way. Guess I need to go figure out something to teach Ellen, anyways.”

“You’ll think of something. I can try to help, if you want.”

I trace a hand over his cheek, then give him one more kiss, one that I hope communicates how much I appreciate him. I think it does, because he's red-faced and dazed by the time I head to the door.

"You've helped already," I call, and make my exit.