Afternoon Pick-Me-Up in Paradise

“I have another delivery that I’d appreciate you making, if you have the time,” Primrose said once he and Morgaine had finished with another day’s watering of the ambrosia beds. 

“Yeah?” Morgaine asked, taking a moment to straighten the emptied watering cans before glancing back up at him. If there was a slight note of skepticism in his voice regarding the request, he felt he could be forgiven for it - the previous delivery he’d been recruited to make had done a number on his back.

“It’s a delivery for the Paradise Cafe,” Primrose clarified. “I’ve spoken to Dove about the tea deliveries, and we’ve agreed to work out a schedule for them that will be less… strenuous, for all involved.” The corners of his mouth turned up very slightly; if they hadn’t been standing only a few feet from each other, Morgaine might have missed it.

“Ah- hey, that was a smile!” They pointed at him. “I knew you had a sense of humor hidden somewhere!”

They shouldn’t have drawn attention to it; Primrose quickly composed his expression back into one of high-and-mighty neutrality. Morgaine knew what they had seen, though. You can deny the truth, but you can’t alter people’s memories, Primrose!

“Anyway,” Primrose cleared his throat and continued. “You may have seen that we have coffee plants growing in one of the other greenhouses. Those were Beanny’s idea, when she started her business here. I have some recently-harvested beans that are bagged up and ready to be taken to the cafe.”

“Right, right.” Morgaine had noticed the coffee plants on one of his rambles throughout the Embassy’s greenhouses and made the connection to the Paradise Cafe, though he hadn’t given it much further thought until now. “So those aren’t Heavenly Meadow coffee beans, just the same sort that’s grown in Burrowgatory?”

“All the different blends at the Paradise Cafe are Beanny’s own innovation. There is no coffee grown in the Heavenly Meadow,” Primrose said, then paused and added, “As far as I know. I suppose that things there could have… changed. In the time that has passed.”

From what Morgaine had heard about the Heavenly Meadow, they doubted it. The inevitability of change didn’t exactly fit in with the rigid virtues that they’d heard of the cherubuns’ former caretaker espousing. They suspected that Primrose also doubted it, but there wasn’t much point in pressing the issue.

To steer the conversation away from that potential awkwardness, they said, “Well, I was thinking of dropping by the cafe on my way out anyway, so I don’t mind. Though if you have a lot of beans set aside, I’d like to request a cart or something to move them, or else my bones won’t let me hear the end of it.”

Actually, Morgaine felt like the regular work in the greenhouses had resulted in a slight fitness boost, but he had long accepted that his body type would never lend itself to a lot of natural muscle. Hauling heavy things long distances just wasn’t ever going to be his strong suit.

“There’s not a lot, I promise,” Primrose said, another slight smile crossing his face. Morgaine refrained from pointing it out this time; it was a nice smile.

“Lead the way then,” they said instead, waving Primrose on ahead of them.

It was only a short trek over to the other greenhouse in question, and there was indeed only a single sack of coffee beans waiting for them. Not that Morgaine had thought that Primrose was necessarily lying, of course; he had just been preparing himself for the reality that they might have different definitions of what constituted a small order, after his ordeal with Dove’s tea delivery. In light of that, he breathed a small sigh of relief upon seeing that this one looked much more manageable.

“There are some wagons that we normally use to move larger plants that are being repotted, if you think it would be necessary,” Primrose said, giving him a sidelong look. Morgaine graciously did not comment on the sardonic note of amusement in his voice. They could be magnanimous here. It was in the spirit of the Embassy.

“No, no, I should be able to manage. It’s not far, like you said.” Morgaine stepped forward to punctuate his point by hefting the bag up. It wasn’t overly heavy, thankfully, but its shape and the shifting of the contents inside made it a bit unwieldy. He ended up settling it over one shoulder instead of trying to rest all of its weight on his arms, but overall it wasn’t nearly as problematic as the boxes of tea had been.

“Well, if that’s it, then I’ll be seeing you, hoss.”

Primrose followed him back to the greenhouse’s door to hold it open for him, waving him off as they exited. “Have a good afternoon.”

It was a nice afternoon; the worst of the summer heat had finally broken, and the Embassy’s high altitude meant that there was usually a nice breeze rolling through as well. Morgaine did need to shift the bag of coffee beans from one shoulder to the other every so often as he walked, but the trek to the cafe was far easier than making his way all the way back down to Burrowgatory. He was only sweating a little by the time he arrived.

The bell on the cafe’s front door jingled cheerfully as Morgaine pushed it open. A few buns were sitting around inside, sipping coffee and conversing with each other, reading, or gazing out the window to appreciate the scenery. Most of them paid him no mind, but Beanny did look up from behind the counter, and she brightened at the sight of him.

“Good afternoon, darlin’,” Morgaine greeted her as he approached the counter. “Got a special delivery for you.”

Beanny quickly wiped her hands on her apron and rounded the counter to accept the bag from him. “Does Primrose have you running all his errands now?” She laughed.

“Not all, only some.” Morgaine made sure that the bag was secure in Beanny’s arms before completely relinquishing it, and she bustled back to drop it off in the kitchen before returning.

“Well have a seat, and I’ll get you your reward,” she teased. “You’ve tried iced coffee before, haven’t you?”

“Only occasionally. I never make it that way myself, but you know I’m always open to being your test subject.” Morgaine took the invitation and seated himself at the counter, resting his folded arms on it with a smile.

“I have a citrus and brown sugar cold brew that I’ve been working on, and it’s just fabulous on a day like this,” Beanny said, grabbing a pitcher from the fridge and rooting around for a glass. She filled the cup with ice and poured the coffee over it with her customary flourish before setting it in front of him.

Morgaine took a long, appreciative sip, slow enough to savor the different flavor notes that Beanny had mentioned. They were right that the cold, sweet drink hit the spot after working and meandering around throughout the warm afternoon. “Refreshing,” he commented as he set the glass back down.

“That’s the goal! I’m thinking of naming it ‘Afternoon Buzz,’ but I don’t know if that sounds too much like an alcoholic beverage and might give people the wrong idea…”

Beanny rambled on for a little while about her new projects and the casual gossip that had come through the cafe, pausing only to get a piece of coffee cake for him when requested. As she delivered that to Morgaine, she switched tracks and asked, “How are the ambrosia plants coming along?”

“They’re blooming now!” Morgaine didn’t try to conceal his pride at how well the flowers were coming along. “Primrose said that they should be ready to harvest soon. I’m just fascinated to see the whole preparation process, you know- he guards his trade secrets very closely.”

“That he does,” Beanny agreed with a little laugh. “You’d think that he has competition to be worried about.”

“Luckily for him, I’m more of an artisan than an entrepreneur.” Morgaine took another sip of coffee. “More importantly, I actually got a smile out of him today. I think he’s finally loosening up just a little.”

“So long as nobody pushes his buttons,” Beanny added, smiling knowingly.

“So long as that, yes.” Not that Morgaine frequently thought about doing that on purpose, or anything. Magnanimity, and all that jazz.

“That’s good,” she said, pausing to go and collect the dishes from a vacant table and bring them back to the kitchen. When she returned, she continued, “Don’t tell him, he’ll just get worked up about it, but some of us do worry about him. I’m glad that he’s having a good time now.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Morgaine promised with exaggerated solemnity, laying a hand over his heart. Beanny reached across the counter and tweaked his nose. “Hey!”

They laughed again at his indignation.