If the turnstiles were not gone before the end of next year, Charlie was going to require some form of scholarship, she thought, as she entered the greenhouse. "Morning, Professor," was offered, with a nod, as she looked around for a seat. Which wasn't hard, considering how she was pretty early for the class.

But there were baskets in front of the seats.

Charlie placed her bag down and sat, wondering if they were going to have a picnic.

She liked picnics.