The bitterness, mostly masked by lemon and honey, made Mary Margaret think about flowers.
“Bergamot and lavender,” Nann said. “Thought it might be nice. Drink it all down.”
The logs in the chimenea crackled as Nann poked at them, and sparks rose over their heads. The night sky was split with the heart of the Milky Way.
“This was a good idea.”
Nann curled into her own recliner, pulling a comforter around her chest. “Rest, my girl, you deserve rest.” The firelight danced across her old face and gold tracings ran down her cheeks.