Welcome to Gaia! ::

In an effort to remove as much bias as possible from this study in interaction and discussion, Mimsy prepared for their talk by constructing a neutral foundation, walling off an entirely new category in her mind to assess this all in a sterile box that was suitably independent of (most) everything else. This was nothing more than temporarily wiping the figurative slate clean, but her most familiar methodology would always be hopelessly lost within the realm of excessively complex.

With Peter safely in Robert's care - in part because it was a bit early to explain the concept of 'people that mommy would have killed if permitted' - she awaited Maebe's arrival by quietly tending to the flowers, kneeling within them as she very precisely pinched off any segments of dying growth. This required some concentration to ensure that she did it exactly as she'd been shown, but it was not nearly enough to distract her from an awareness of her surroundings. Though part of it had been diverted for the sake of these particular circumstances, the heightened alertness had much more to do with her neighbor and a warning she still didn't quite comprehend.

When she stood and brushed her hands off on her dress, the expression directed at the other woman was one of restrained patience and curiosity.

"Good evening," she greeted her, regarding the offering of baked goods with a slow blink as she awarded a positive mark for compliance in hospitality rituals. "I will apologize for my inability to invite you inside, but I think that this is most comfortable for us both. Please sit, if you are inclined to do so."

She gestured towards a small set of table and chairs that epitomized the idea of a delicate tea party. On the table was a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses, because she knew about hospitality too.

Once Maebe opted to sit, Mimsy followed suit, matching the rigidity of her posture. In fairness, this wasn't the fault of her company - it was just her, seeking comfort from structure and rules in Robert's physical absence.

"How thoughtful. Thank you in turn." This social dance was familiar enough by now to be proudly performed, but the pride she displayed at the moment was not directly for herself. "My husband built it just for us. The garden is more of a partnership, though he has instructed me in the best methods of care for plant life."

Just as the first hints of her hungry curiosity began to show, she disguised her fidgeting by moving to open the cookies to set them between them, then by pouring lemonade into each glass.

"We will share," she informed her, politely taking a mouse-sized nibble out of a cookie. "Would you prefer small talk and pleasantries first, or a more direct route to the intended conversation?"

"Yes. When the fog cleared, and the soil allowed for more sustainable growth, he planted tomatoes with me." A wistfulness had begun to wash over her, missing only a dreamy sigh. "We have been tending to a variety of plants since then. I prefer flowers, but I established a small pumpkin patch last fall."

She cleared her throat, and picked a chip off of the cookie in her hands as she worked to reign in her thoughts and regain composure.

"It is very nice." The chocolate left a smudge on her nail, which she dutifully worked to scrape off. "It is nice to create life. It is nice to see that something so wonderful exists due to the contributions that you have made to it."

Her gaze was wandering across the yard and the house, making it increasingly apparent that she was referring to more than just flowers. It returned to Maebe in the wake of her compliment, and she gave a small smile in place of another 'thank you'.

"But my advocacy for the town can be postponed." She nodded towards her, before indulging in another tiny nibble. "Be as direct as you would like. This is my preference as well."

Conversation itself was not one of Mimsy's interests, generally serving only as a means to an end, so she was content to fall back into the position of a listener. She listened well, and was visibly attentive; each time 'love' was specifically mentioned, a hint of a flicker surfaced in her eyes, as though she were making some particular note regarding it.

She made no clarification about any knowledge that Cami provided, and momentarily refrained from any commentary until she felt reasonably certain that she had processed everything thus far.

"So the love did not go away." The statement was spoken slowly, with care placed in establishing it, the verbal equivalent of spreading all of the cards out on the table to look over them. "Could you elaborate upon this? I am finding it difficult to comprehend. How was it not 'the right fit'? What was faulty in the method of loving? How can love be mutual and incorrect at once?"

A stab of regret sunk into her stomach as soon as the last question left her mouth. That was a question that she most likely did not actually want answered, for her own sake. But admitting that would be indicative of a weakness that she couldn't afford, so she took a drink of lemonade and forced it past the lump in her throat.

A light switched on behind her eyes. As lacking in expression as she tended to be, Mimsy had a very good eureka look.

"Oh! Yes, I see. I am familiar with this." Demonstrating was a bit redundant, but she did anyway, clasping her hands together with a faint clink of colliding wedding rings. Her hands then lowered towards the surface of the table, and the metals scraped together again as her fingers slipped apart.

"Cami feels," she gently repeated, unwilling to go any further on that particular thread of conversation. If they ever made any effort to determine if any fit was possible between them again, she didn't want to be the one to directly spark that experiment in any capacity. Despite learning only very recently that she even had a sister, it was easily apparent to her that this had the potential to do harm to her, and that went against what a family was supposed to do.

Fortunately, there were other threads of discussion to return to, saving them from uncomfortably-timed silence. She picked one up again and held tightly onto it, completely ignoring the existence of the one prior.

"I have no experience in this, but I do grasp it. Robert is--and will be--the only person that I have loved. I took very careful measures to compare all of the data that I possessed for both of us, each positive, negative, and neutral trait, to ensure that he and I would fit. I did not like the idea of blindly searching in the dark for someone of such incomparable importance, but I know that this is not a conventional method."

Intending to take another bite of the cookie, she lifted it to her mouth, but the chewed edge ultimately just came to rest against her lip as she contemplated.

"The requirements for my ideal match were vastly improbable. Statistically, he should not exist," she murmured. "Employing trial and error, as you have...is it difficult to be hopeful for the probability of your match as well, or does each attempt bring you closer to a solution?"