Karen was restocking the seeds when the bell affixed to the door of supermarket jangled, announcing a customer. She didn't stop working to turn around and see who it was.

"Ah, how may I help you, Doctor?" her father Jeff called out in greeting. Karen rolled her eyes, her back still to the door so the doctor couldn't see her. Dr. Trent always bought his groceries on credit, and her father was always too meek to tell him he couldn't. She suspected this time wouldn't be any different.

"I was actually hoping to speak with Karen," Dr. Trent said in his usual soft-spoken voice.

Karen glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised. "What can I do for you, Doc? I'm not due for a check-up, am I?"

"No, no, nothing like that. Er, actually, if we could perhaps step out for a moment… I'd like to speak to you privately…"

Karen looked up again, this time meeting her father's eyes. Jeff shrugged and smiled. "It's fine with me," he said.

"Well then," she said, dusting her hands off on her vest. "Guess I'm all yours."

Once they were outside, Dr. Trent wandered over to the bench next to the supermarket but didn't sit down.

"Is something the matter?" she asked reluctantly, eyeing his discomfort. She felt a little uncomfortable herself. He was older than her, for one, and he seemed so serious. He'd been the town's doctor for as long as she could remember, but she rarely talked with him outside of the usual setting of the clinic or the supermarket, or maybe a festival. This little private meeting was certainly a first.

"Nothing's the matter," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I came to ask for a favor."

"If you want us to start giving you your groceries for free, I'm going to have to put my foot down…"

"What?" When he realized she was kidding, he smiled, but only briefly. "Oh, right. No, I actually came for—well, this is going to sound very silly…"

She wanted to tell him she didn't think he was even capable of silliness, but she held her tongue and waited for him to finish.

"I was hoping you could give me dancing lessons."

This day just kept taking unexpected turns. "Dancing lessons," she echoed incredulously.

"Well, you see, the wedding is coming up soon…"

"Wait. You're talking about Elli?"

"Yes."

"She is still marrying Jack, right?"

Her questioned seemed to make him defensive. "Of course she is. Why wouldn't she be?"

Karen held up her hands. "Just checking. I guess I thought it was kind of strange you'd be so concerned about dancing at a wedding when you're not the groom."

"Ah." Dr. Trent tugged at his collar, a look of agitation passing across his face. "You see, Elli asked me to walk her down the aisle since her parents passed. And though she didn't bring it up herself, I know she would appreciate it if I could dance with her at the wedding as well, at least once…"

"That seems awful considerate of you, to go to the trouble of learning how to dance, all for just one moment at a wedding that's not even yours."

"It's important to her," he answered with coldness. "And she's important to me."

Karen cocked an eyebrow.

"As my employee," he clarified.

"So why me? Why do you want me to teach you?"

"Because you're the best dancer I've ever seen," he answered, so bluntly honest that it made her blush. She'd gotten plenty of compliments before, but never from someone so stoic as Dr. Trent. "Every year in the Harvest Goddess Festival, you're always the one that stands out."

"Thanks," Karen said, "But I don't know..."

"I understand." Dr. Trent gave her a slight bow and then abruptly turned to go. "I'm sorry to bother you."

"Wait."

He turned back.

"The wedding. It's not for another month, right?"

He nodded.

She puffed out a sigh and smiled wryly. "Then why the hell not. We'll start tomorrow, meet a couple times a week."

"But I have the clinic..."

"We'll do it before you open then. Let's say at this spot, seven o'clock tomorrow morning?"

He hesitated before taking a few steps toward her and holding out his hand. It took her a second before she realized he wanted her to shake it. She grasped it tentatively.

"Thank you very much," he said, with surprising warmth. "And if you could keep this a secret... I don't want Elli to know about this."

"Of… Of course," Karen managed to reply.

Dr. Trent gave her hand one last shake before he let go and stuck his hands inside his coat pockets and walked briskly towards the clinic. She watched him go, shaking her head and smiling in spite of herself.

x x x

They decided to hold the lessons in the square. At first, Dr. Trent was mortified by the thought of anyone coming upon them. But it was impractical to do it in the forest or the mountains or on the beach, and so he finally conceded.

"Is that alcohol?" he asked, watching Karen take a swig from the bottle she'd brought with her. She set it on the ground next to her and started rolling her shoulders, warming up.

"No, it's grape juice."

He stared at her for a few seconds. "You have a very dry sense of humor. I can never tell when you're joking."

"Start doing your stretches," she commanded.

He obeyed. "I notice you always bring a bottle along with you to these lessons."

"Nothing escapes you." She wasn't sure what it was about Dr. Trent that brought out the sarcasm in her. She knew she was being rude, but it was like he was asking for it, the way he acted so stiff and prudish all the time.

"Do you normally start drinking this early in the morning?"

She didn't answer.

"Or is it just to get through all my Goddess-awful dancing?"

Karen smiled at that. "Now look who's got a sense of humor."

They were quiet for the next couple minutes as they finished warming up. Then they took their positions, his hand resting on her back, hers on his shoulder.

"In all seriousness, though, as your doctor, I would strongly advise against developing those kind of drinking habits."

"And as your teacher, I think you should try to lead today."

His hand dropped away from her body. "Karen. Your evasiveness of the issue makes me concerned—"

"Thanks a lot for your concern, Doc. But I'm not an alcoholic."

"I never said you were," he said quietly.

She grabbed his hand and replaced it on her back. "Now, lead."

They began, his first step landing on her foot. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Just keep going."

He found the rhythm. She was impressed—the doctor really wasn't half bad. He'd picked up the moves very quickly.

When they took a break, she returned to her bottle. She kept her eyes locked with his as she tilted her head back, draining it.

"Refreshing," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Karen, I can't deny that that kind of behavior is indicative of alcohol abuse," he said, infuriatingly calm.

Her fingers tightened around the neck of the now-empty bottle. "If you want to learn to dance, than I get to drink as much as I want. Okay?"

He didn't answer, only sighed through his nose.

"Good," she said. "Now let's get back to work."

x x x

Karen kept drinking during the lessons, but Dr. Trent stopped pestering her about it.

Once he'd dropped the issue, she was amazed at how much she enjoyed herself. The doctor worked hard and eagerly at every lesson. Seeing him out of his lab coat, actually breaking a sweat, was bizarre but endearing. The doctor did actually have a sense of humor, and a very keen one at that. He was also surprisingly tender, shown only when he talked about his nurse Elli.

"She's the most incredible woman," he'd say as he twirled Karen under his arm. "She's got this way with patients… She puts everyone at ease. I'm very lucky to have her."

"Jack must be lucky too," Karen remarked casually in reply. "You know. To be marrying her, and all."

Dr. Trent would always flinch a little at the mention of Jack. "Yes," he said a moment too late. "He is."

It was at moments like those that made her desire to get in a snarky comment flare up. She wasn't sure why, but something in his tone, so vulnerable and gentle, got under her skin.

x x x

Then it was the morning before the wedding day, the morning of their final lesson.

Karen sat slumped on the bench, not stirring until she felt Dr. Trent shaking her shoulder.

"Karen! Are you all right?"

"'M fine, 'm fine," she mumbled, swatting feebly at his hand. "Mind keeping your voice a little lower though? I've got this terrible headache."

"Do you have a hangover?"

"What? No, I'm fine," she said, getting to her feet. She swayed a little but tried to hide it by leaning on Dr. Trent, her hands on his shoulders. "Come on, let's practice."

"You can't dance in this condition," he said, taking her arms to steady her. "It's likely that you're dehydrated. You should lie down and drink some fluids."

"I got some fluids right here," she said, pulling one arm free from his grip to reach for the bottle sitting on the bench. She shook it, sloshing around its contents. She'd already drank half of it that morning. "See?" Unexpectedly, the world tilted, causing her stomach to lurch. She dropped the bottle and clapped a hand to her mouth. She feared she might vomit.

"This is ridiculous," Dr. Trent said, taking a step back from the mess at his feet. The bottle hadn't broken, but spilled most of what it held all over the ground and his shoes. "I'm taking you to the clinic."

"Where's Elli?" Karen whispered as he unlocked the doors and led her inside.

"She went to her grandmother's. Something about checking her dress one last time." He flicked on the lights and brought her to one of the beds. "Sit down," he instructed. "I'll be right back."

She sat on the bed and started swinging her feet, but something about the motion made her nauseous again, so she decided to lie down. Moments later Dr. Trent returned with a glass of water and two small white pills.

"Take these. And make sure you drink the whole glass. I'll get you more in a minute."

She obediently swallowed the pills and emptied the glass. It made her feel marginally better.

"I worry you might be endangering yourself," he said. That made her groan.

"Oh, please, Doc. Don't start with that again."

"I told you you can call me Tim."

"Fine, then. Tim."

He sighed. "It seems like you're lacking in self-awareness." Now, that made her laugh.

"That's a good one, Tim. You wanna talk about lacking in self-awareness, you better look in the mirror."

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean," she said, speaking slowly to spell it out for him, "Elli. You're so in love with her." He stared at her blankly. "You really have no clue, do you?"

"I'm not… No. I care about her as an employee, that's all." He was clearly disquieted by her words.

"Yeah, right. I see how you grit your teeth every time anyone says 'Jack.' See, you just did it. And the way you talk about her… oh, Goddess!" Karen fell back against the pillow, her hand pressed to her head. "You get that look in your eyes."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You should listen to me," Karen said, closing her eyes. She didn't notice the anger in his voice. "You're in over your head."

"I'm not going to take advice from a drunk, thank you very much." Her eyes flew open at his venomous tone. "You can't even bother to teach me sober."

"Hey, I've done a good job, didn't I?" She propped herself up with her elbows, feeling her own rage building. "You've made a lot of progress. You're great."

"The point is, I asked you for a favor and you boozed your way through it." He didn't look away from her, and the earnestness of his gaze was unnerving. "I was hoping for your full attention."

"Well, it would've been nice to have yours!" she snapped, sitting all the way up now. "I'm shocked you learned anything, what with your head in the clouds all the time, distracted with Elli this and Elli that and Elli all the damn time. I'm sick of it! I had to listen to you go on about her while I watched you work your ass off learning how to dance, all for her, and she won't even appreciate it. You deserve a girl who wants to learn to dance for you, not somebody who's just going to end up marrying some other guy!"

The silence that followed her outburst was almost painfully awkward. Karen knew full well she'd crossed the line. But, as was expected now, the doctor surprised her.

"You're right," he said, rubbing his jaw and looking off into space. "I know I'm a fool. But I really do love her."

Karen pressed her lips together, hating how it hurt her chest to hear him say that. "I'm sorry. You were right, too."

He looked back at her questioningly. "About what?"

"About my drinking. Though I don't take too kindly to being called a drunk…"

"Sorry about that," he said, chuckling softly.

"But I'll consider cutting down a little. Maybe."

"I'm glad to hear it."

They smiled at each other for a few moments, and then Karen hopped off the bed when she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Now, I think I owe you one final lesson," she said, offering him her hand.

He studied her, as though he just remembered she hadn't been feeling well. "Are you sure you're up to that?"

"Positive." She grabbed his hand when he didn't make any move to take hers, and put her other hand on his shoulder. "Besides, I know you won't let me fall. I hear you're a great dancer."

Dr. Trent smiled and shook his head. He pulled her a little closer, making her heart flutter, pleasant in its unpleasantness. "I learned from the best."