“I’m so happy for you,” I said, in spite of my impending sense of dread. “You seemed like you really liked that place.”

“Yeah,” Ros said. Their smile was enormous, and I knew they were thinking about not just the place but the person who worked there. “I did.”

“Then that’s fucking great,” said Touchstone. He raised his champagne flute in one hand and his veggie burger in the other. “Cheers to Ros, for the millionth time!”

“Thanks, dude!” said Ros. “Cheers to us for making dinner. These turned out great.”

“When do you start?” I asked.

“Tomorrow!” said Ros. “I’m starting out at four days a week, but it’s probably going to be more like five—”

Five days a week with Jess Orlando?! And it started tomorrow? Suddenly the tenor of the dinner changed: It was no longer a rehearsal, nor was it even a celebration—it was a farewell. Ros was going to start at the Hidden Fern, and we were never going to see them again.

“What about the Hestia-ing?” I said.

Ros made a face, and I kicked myself for being who I was: pushy, stubborn, in love with the wrong person. Why couldn’t I just let things run their course? Why did I always need to jump in and remind everyone of the plan, when it was clear that the plan was going to pieces?

“Ros isn’t our maid,” said Touch. “We can take turns with the Hestia-ing. Honestly, I kind of think it was unfair for Ros to do all the Lily Pad upkeep in the first place.”

“There is a lot of weird shit to dust,” Ros agreed.

“As long as I’m not in charge of the plants,” I said, thinking of my mother, who’d killed every plant she’d ever owned. “I’ll fix the chore wheel later tonight.”

“We can just play it by ear,” Ros said. “We don’t have to be so rigid, you know?”

“Are you anti–chore wheel now?”

“I wouldn’t say I was ever pro–chore wheel,” said Ros.

“We’ll work it out,” said Touchstone, taking a huge bite of his veggie burger. “We’re smart,” he said through his mouthful.

“What’s your news, Celia?” Ros said.

“Oh—it’s nothing. I saw Oliver Teller again, that’s all.”

“You saw Oliver Teller again? And you didn’t bring this up immediately?” said Ros.

“The guy from Power Jam who’s got those googly fish eyes?” said Touch.

“Way to bury the lede! Spill, spill, spill!” Ros said, gesturing feverishly with their hands.

It was exactly the sort of reaction I’d been hoping for, but in the aftermath of Ros’s Hidden Fern news, their enthusiasm didn’t hit me nearly as hard as it should have.

“We spoke this time,” I said. “Like, actually.”