She parked, knocked, knocked again.

He came to the door. When he saw her, he stepped out and shut it quickly behind himself. She explained her presence by leading him to the side of her van, where she showed him her sixteen monoflorals and two honeydews. Pointing out their different forms, she told him Sundays were the beginning of the tea house’s work week, and, after holidays, always the busiest day of any given week because of the brunch buffet. Well, he said, you certainly have your hands full.