How Green Becomes Wood

"M-my mother," the woman said, hopeful but nervous. "She loves tulips! Fancy tulips would be perfect, but I don't know what color!"

"Or colors if multiple would be good," the man said.
 
"What is your mother's favourite colour? That is often a good place to begin. I have it on the best authority." Neither he nor his wife had a mother and the living mother of his children was blind and didn't have a favourite. But he presumed buying someone something based on their favourite colour also applied to mothers.
 
They both looked uncertain and started murmuring different colors. "Red? No, maybe blue... um... Then again... Perhaps..." Then they looked at Dark hopefully. "Classic colors?"
 
"Classic colours," Dark repeated with a slow nod, buying time as his bilingual brain tried to figure out what that meant. Red, yellow, and blue? Or typical tulip colours? "Forgive me, English is not my first language. When you give your mother flowers, what room does she normally put them in? My wife, they always go in the kitchen, unless we are having company."
 
"Oh, you know, basically everywhere," the woman said slowly. "In the kitchen, too, and, um, the living room and bedrooms, sometimes."

"And the windowsills," the man volunteered.

The woman nodded. "Yes! There as well!"

Tristan came up behind Dark, watching with amusement. "Have we decided?" he asked cheekily, knowing full well they hadn't.
 
"What colours are her walls?" Dark asked, with the sort of patience only developed from raising an infant and two teenagers. He turned to Tristan, his tattooed hands still behind his back, "They are wanting flowers for her mother. I was about to inquire if there are colours she does not like, so we knew what not to choose." He paused, and with a sly grin nobody there would be able to see, added, "Presuming they like her."
 
"A wise choice," Tristan agreed.

"Oh, I like her!" The man hastened to say as the woman looked at him anxiously. "Yes! I absolutely like her! I'm just not certain what she likes. I know her walls are white and light grey! And she has a lot of, um, extra pillows with color."

"Accent pillows! In soft colors, but a lot of them," the woman added brightly.

"Pastels?" Tristan suggested to a flurry of nods. He looked at Dark. "How about three pastel colors of tulips, two each to make a nice half dozen, and I will fetch some other elements to go with them."
 
Following a brief pause where Dark tried to make sure he understood what Tristan wanted from him, he selected the flowers with input from the couple, making sure to pick colours which matched the pillows for two thirds of the bouquet, but a contrasting color, although still a (ugh) pastel, for the final third so they didn't disappear into their surroundings.

After getting final confirmation, he brought the flowers back to Tristan. Although none of the flowers Tristan stocked were bad, it was clear Dark hadn't just pulled whatever blooms were nearest, and instead put some thought into which individual flowers looked best with the rest.
 
Tristan nodded his approval to Dark and quickly added in a few small decorative leaves and tiny flowering twigs to complete the bouquet. It took him only a moment, and then he wrapped them in the paper sleeve and handed them over to the couple. They enthusiastically gushed their thanks as they paid, and Tristan gave them instructions for how to keep their flowers blooming fresh for longer.

They left happy and smiling, a d Tristan looked up at Dark. "You really intend to stay and fill in Alec's role here? I hope you will forgive me, but I hadn't thought you were serious."
 
"Honestly? My plan was to come in, see you were managing fine on your own, and go home. But if you do need help, I really do not mind staying to assist. I have a baby at home, so I cannot be here for Alec's full hours, but I can spend some time." Dark replied honestly. Daizi would call it helping family, and although he didn't see Tristan that way, he suspected it'd be a good thing to teach his children, and he only enjoyed other people suffering when they deserved it.
 
Tristan studied him for a beat before giving a slight nod. "Alright, then, I shall happily take what you can give me." He pulled a paper out from under his cash register and scribbled a few things down. "You came at the perfect time, so if you can come at this time tomorrow, as well, and a bit earlier on Saturday, that would be perfect. How many hours do you wish to give me?"
 
"I suppose I could do three, maybe four hours, but no more than that." Dark replied, arms crossed, "Four sounds like a lot." He paused for a moment, and then took out his phone and pulled up a recent picture of Ivy, taken from above, where she was standing while holding as tightly as she could to Dark's pant legs with the biggest smile on her face. Showing it to Tristan, he said, "It will destroy her if I am gone for too long on any single day."
 
Tristan had no idea what to say to that. Ivy was growing into an adorable baby, there was no argument there, but why was Dark showing him this? He was mostly confused. Dark sounded equal parts willing to help and more grudging than a teenager. And weren't most parents away from their children for longer than four hours a day? Especially the father? Not that he was in any way shape or form willing or wanting to enter into that kind of discussion. Mostly he just wanted to know why it was that Dark was here yet didn't seem to want to be. Maybe Tristan would understand if he knew Dark better? That was a possibility. Maybe it was a better choice to just close the shop, but he really did not want to when he already had to close sporadically thanks to random leg and back pains.

"Three hours it is," Tristan said, trying not to sound as confused as he felt. He marked it down on his paper and slid it back under the register. "I'll have your paycheck ready next Wednesday when I do the rest of the accounts. In the meantime, let me show you your duties." He turned away from the front desk and led the way into the back. "I hope you do not mind cleaning?"
 
"No, I do not mind cleaning." Dark answered, putting his phone away, a little disappointed at the lack of a respectful aww at the sight of what was literally the cutest baby in the world. "My wife accuses me of enjoying cleaning and says it is masochistic. And really, I do not expect to be paid just for helping to hold the fort, there is no need for that."
 
"Well, I will not be paying Alec, so I might as well pay you," Tristan said cheerfully, leading the way to the closet where all the cleaning supplies were kept. "It is a bit under the table as I have no motivation to do the paperwork for someone filling in for nine hours, but I doubt anyone will care. It is that, or I suppose I could pay you in flowers, I suppose. Now, here is where every cleaning supply is kept. The shelves are labeled based off of what can and cannot be used near the flowers - cut or living - and there is extra of everything. I bought a bulk package two years ago, and I think I am set for another two years yet. I am sorry everything is so near the ground for you."

He went on to show Dark more simple tasks like cutting paper and plastic to the right size based on the size of the bouquet, where to put the expired flowers as he composted them, the recycling bin and the list of what could go in the recycling bin, and several other small things. A customer came in twice while Tristan was showing Dark around, but they were quick and looking to buy specific flowers rather than a formal bouquet. Tristan was able to quickly return to Dark and soon let him loose to do his work on his own. Tristan stayed out front working on invintory reports and helping the customers that came in. Most wanted the premade bouquets he had on display or only a few flowers. Then one came in looking to buy a vase, and of course the vase they wanted was on the top shelf.

"Mr. Dark," Tristan called. "Would you mind coming with the step ladder? This gentleman wants the blue and white vase."
 
"We can argue about money another time." Dark replied, really not thinking it necessary to be paid for such little work. Still, he paid close attention to the cleaning instructions, and although he dreaded the amount of bending he'd need to do, he did genuinely enjoy the work, so it would be alright. The rest of the tasks weren't too hard to learn, and, if he was honest, it was nice to be doing something other than cyclical baby care. Even if Ivy was the sweetest, prettiest baby anyone could care for.

Upon being asked for the step ladder, Dark simply walked over, reached at around eye level, maximum, grabbed the vase, and asked the gentleman, "This one, correct?"
 
The older gentleman blinked at Dark for a bit before breaking into a grin and accepting the vase. "Yes! This one is perfect. You're a tall one, aren't you?"

Tristan looked a little startled and then amused at Dark. "I see my stepladder is going to gather even more dust. Thank you."

He rang up the vase for the older gentleman and patiently listened as he explained how this vase was for his wife's gravesite after the last one broke. The older man was incredibly chipper for someone going to visit a grave, and he gave Dark a wave before toddling out. Tristan watched him go before going into the back and fetching an identical vase.

"He'll be back in three weeks for this one," he told Dark, holding it out to him. "Someone or something keeps breaking them, he replaces them, and I hear the story fresh every time. Sweet man. Would you please put this up there for me?"
 
With a slight nod to the man's comments, Dark handed the vase over to him and listened carefully to his story, and not out of politeness. In a way, he understood being please to visit the grave of your wife, although he hoped to never be in that situation, because it meant visiting her.

"Of course," Dark told Tristan, taking the vase and carefully putting it back up, "That is strange. What do you think breaks them? Or who?"
 
"I wish I did," Tristan sighed. "It is rather regular for it to be critters, but that is still a possibility with how people these days tend to leave food items. I do not mind the thought, it is a kind thought, I just wish they would not leave food inside plastics, and it does mean an increase in animal activity in the graveyards. Or it could be some person accidentally or on purpose. In any case, I've taken to making certain I have this in stock for him at all times. I did start carrying a cheaper variety so that it is not so burdensome to his wallet. He has been coming here for over a year now, longer, actually, now that I think of it." He shifted and pulled one leg up and over the other so he could sit cross-legged.
 
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