Vern joined us for a fairly lean dinner that night. Roasted brussels, potatoes and carrots, mostly, and not much to go around. We both apologized, but Vern ate happily and we all felt good when our plates were empty.

          “How was it down south?” Maureen asked, putting her elbows on the table and holding her chin.

          “Good, good. I like it down there.” Vern ran a finger around his empty plate, picking up lost grains of salt and pepper. “I like it better up here, though.”

          “But it’s the same season, right?” I asked. “I mean, Spring is Spring, north or south.”

         “Sure it is,” Vern replied, sucking at his finger. “But they’re very different seasons. Different plants, different insects.” He put his hands under the table and continued, “Different animals. But yes, Spring is Spring. I just like it better here.”

          I stood up and began to clear the dishes. As Maureen handed me her plate, Vern noticed the wedding bands. “Finally, huh!” Looking up at me, he swatted my arm and said, “Congratulations.” To Maureen, he gave a deferential nod and said the same. “When was the big day?”

        “Shortly after you left last time,” she said.

        “May 12th,” I answered.

         He handed me his plate. “Well, congratulations.”

        As I took the dishes into the kitchen, Maureen asked Vern, “You like moving around so much? Always headed north or south? Chasing the same season?”

      “Who says I’m the one chasing it? But anyway, yeah, it’s nice. I like the change of scenery and I like the Spring work. Much more fun than the harvest. And I have friends everywhere, like you guys.”

      “But if you settled,” she persisted, “you could get a change of seasons.”

      “But not the scenery,” Vern countered. “And I like those other friends, like I like you. And I want to see all of you.”

        I came back to the table and sat down, asking Vern, “So are you staying here tonight?”

       Maureen jerked in her seat, her knee bumping the table and she gave a wincing little yelp. “Sorry,” she said, blushing as she stood. “Leg twitch. You guys want coffee?”

      “Please!” Vern straightened up at the mention and she disappeared. We both watched her go.

      “You got work yet?” I asked over the sound of the grinder in the kitchen.

      “Yep.” He smiled and put his hands back on the table. “A lot, actually.”

      “You got somewhere for tonight, then?”

      Vern smiled more broadly, but sheepishly.

      “Alright, I’ll make up the couch.”

      When I went to bed, Maureen and Vern stayed up, talking, to empty the pot of coffee. In the morning, outside the shop, a small sprig of a flower had begun in the sidewalk.