Page 6 of Fibre and Ink

The tension between us broke a tiny amount. “I can’t either.”

He stood beside me, looking out the window at the fields where the alpacas were grazing. “How many are there in the herd at the moment?”

“Three dozen, around that...” I mixed the chocolate in with the milk. “There’s a couple of pregnant mamas, so it’ll be more soon.”

“That’s awesome. I always loved the babies.”

“I took to naming them after Disney characters,” I said. “Y’know, since I’m Mickey.”

Aster chuckled. “That’s fun.”

“I’ll take you out and introduce you later, if you like?”

“I’d love that.”

We took our cups of cocoa out the kitchen door. It opened onto a wooden deck, with a hand-carved picnic table, and steps that led into a modest herb garden, a path that went to the nearest field. The pine farm, where I grew Christmas trees, was out of sight on the lake side. To the north was a gently sloping hill towards the mountains.

Aster stood at the top of the steps, looking around. “Is that a herb garden?”

“Yeah, Dad pyt it in.” I’d done my best to maintain it, cutting back the rosemary when it grew too big, ensuring everything had the space it needed.

I’d even continued Dad’s habit of drying bundles of herbs to use in cooking.

Harlow had suggested I save myself some work and pull them up, but I didn’t mind it, really. I’m a bit of a routine follower, and I liked having guidelines set out already for me.

Mom’s roses out the front were more of a challenge, but I’d got used to them as the years went by.

I nodded to the picnic table. “Have a seat.”

I’d sat at it almost every day of my life. Aster had sat at it countless times as well. It was family tradition that if the weather allowed it, we ate out on the deck.

Aster inhaled deeply, his shoulders raising and then falling. “That view never gets old.”

I nodded, feeling proud of the work I’d done to maintain the closest parts ot it.

It was a hazy day, and the mountains looked almost soft focus, keeping watch over us and the alpacas.

I relaxed a little too, chatting about the farm, what had changed and what was exactly the same.

Maybe I had been stressed out for no reason. This might actually be really easy.

Easy company, able to have a chat when I needed it, and Aster getting what he needed — a quiet place to sit and work. I hoped, very much, that he’d find inspiration here, and that whatever he chose to do, he didn’t feel like he had to rush away from Foggy Basin again.

I had a really good feeling about him being here.

Chapter Three

Aster

When Harlow drove off, it was awkward with a capital ‘A’. Every time I’d visited the Cooper farmhouse in the past, it was to hang with her. But Mickey would often be there too.

It didn't help that he was looking and acting extremely boyfriend coded. From his soft looking plaid shirt to making me hot cocoa by warming the milk on the stove? My heart was fluttering.

I couldn’t let it.

I wasn’t here to seduce Mickey or start anything. I was crashing at a friend’s house. That’s all.

I hadn’t attempted to seriously date anyone since I transitioned. It was all too complicated. I didn’t ‘pass’ for cis, and wouldn’t even when I got top surgery. I still wasn’t sure what I wanted to do about bottom surgery.