Friday morning came with a thin mist that burned away by the time Lyn left for the hotel.
At the front desk, the day moved quickly: three new guests, a lost umbrella, and a question about the best bus to Nara Park. Lyn answered them all with a smile, but her mind kept drifting back to the little flower cutting by the persimmon tree.
When she got home, Star met her at the gate, tail wagging in wide circles. "Did it grow?" Lyn asked, kneeling by the small plant. The stem stood a little straighter than yesterday, with two tiny new leaves opening near the top.
"It likes its spot," Linda said, coming out with a watering can. "Mrs. Oda said chrysanthemums are patient flowers. They take their time, but they always bloom in the end."
"Sounds like someone I know," Lyn said, glancing toward the mailbox by the gate.
Linda laughed and handed her the watering can. Lyn poured a slow, careful stream around the base of the little plant while Star sniffed every drop that fell.
Pinkysan watched from the veranda, one paw tucked under her chin, blinking slowly in the late afternoon sun.
After dinner, the two of them sat outside a little longer than usual, listening to crickets that still sang even as the air turned cool.
"Still no letter," Linda said quietly, not sounding worried, just thoughtful.
"There's still time," Lyn said. "Letters from Kyoto take a few days to arrive."
She thought of the guest at the front desk, asking about buses to Nara Park. Soon the maple leaves there would turn red and gold, just like the ones already falling in the garden.
"Maybe by the time the leaves turn, we will know when John is coming," Lyn said, half to herself.
"Maybe," Linda agreed, smiling into the dark garden. "Good things take their own time, just like this little plant."
Star curled up warm and steady between them, and Pinkysan finally hopped down to join the circle, settling just out of paw's reach from the dog, as always.
(To be continued)