Sorry, the holidays made me lazy(er) :')
In response to the reviews of the last chapter, I'll just say these three things: I love Calvin as much as I love Chase (and for the record, I also think he's rather sexy), I like being different and lastly, the title should've been a very big hint!
Come on, have some faith in me! My top priority is to write an entertaining story and to me an entertaining story must include some drama. Drama is delicious, after all ;)
I can't be honest
I say one thing, but do another
What am I saying?
Bittersweet
As strange as it sounded, Sundays put Chase at unease. It was the one day he had entirely to himself, the one day that had no routine in place to keep him grounded – his day off.
Like most of the major changes that had occurred on Waffle Island, it all started because of the decline. Sunday had been the slowest work day and the Sundae Inn owners had no choice but to close their doors to avoid financial ruin. But, after the fires were restored and the increase in patronage demanded longer working hours, everything returned to how it once was – everything, except for Chase's work schedule.
Naturally, it had been an annoyance, at first. His job at the inn was his only real tie to Waffle Town, his only reason for being there and unlike most people, he actually enjoyed the work; the least they could do was reduce his time off. Before he had the chance to complain, however, Yolanda pointed out that a break could actually benefit his career, not hinder it. Cooking required personal experimentation on top of the fine motor skills involved, and weekly free-time on Sundays would be the perfect opportunity for him to practice.
Chase still believed they were just trying to save some money.
It took him a while, but he did eventually learn to appreciate the time off.
For six out of the seven days of the week, cooking was his profession. He cooked whatever recipes Yolanda decided were on the menus, he followed orders and made food for other people. But on Sundays, it was his hobby. Something he did for no other reason than pure passion.
This particular Sunday, however, Chase just didn't feel his usual enthusiasm when he walked into the kitchen that morning.
Lost; that was how he felt, he realised when he looked around. Nothing appeared to be any different – the room was spotless and organised, just the way he liked it – but something definitely felt off.
His kitchen had been changed, disturbed, and not in a way he could easily fix with a wet cloth and soapy water.
And it was all her fault.
The longer he stood there, the thicker the air around him grew, until it became so unbearable he actually thought he would be crushed under the weight of it all. Opening the windows didn't help. Leaving didn't work either – the heavy atmosphere permeated every room he moved to.
Unable to take it anymore, Chase grabbed his keys and got out of his house as fast as he could.
It was still early in the morning and the summer sun hadn't reached its peak quite yet, making the weather warm but not entirely uncomfortable. A slight breeze blew through the trees and Chase inhaled the clean air, feeling his tension disappear as he exhaled. Perhaps he would head to the Soufflé Farm and see what fresh produce they had to offer. High quality ingredients always inspired him to be more adventurous with his cooking.
Though, as he walked along the dirt path to the Gelato Meadow, his mind started to wander again. Back to her, to that day where she'd opened up to him and cried, to the feelings that had stirred within him – the confusion, the shock, the guilt – as he watched the tears slide down her fair skin. The whole scene replayed in his mind, in slow motion, how he'd moved forward without thinking and took her into his arms.
What in the world had compelled him to do that?
Logically it made sense, he supposed. Hugging was a form of comfort, and he'd wanted to comfort her because…
Because they were friends.
Simple as that. So why did he feel the need to continuously dwell on something that was now well in the past?
It wasn't like Chase had never had a friend before. In fact, he got along just fine with everyone at the Sundae Inn, even if that was more out of necessity than anything.
No one at the inn ever made him feel like this, though.
Holly made him feel… too many things. Uneasy. Annoyed. Intrigued. Happy? – well, just a little.
Stop thinking about her, Chase finally told himself when he was sure his head was going to burst. Think of recipes; something exotic, gourmet and unpronounceable.
Thankfully, he was already nearing the Souffle Farm. Soon, he'd be inside, looking at fresh fruits and vegetables, not worrying over anything except for what he loved to do most. He almost ran the rest of the way.
A bell above the door chimed as Chase entered the main farmhouse.
"Good morning!" Anissa greeted cheerfully from the other side of the room, "Oh hello Chase. Here for your weekly groceries?"
The smile he'd long perfected crossed his lips. "Of course. Where else would I go to get the best produce on the island?"
Anissa giggled, although someone else in the room made a disbelieving snort. Chase immediately turned his attentions to the middle aged woman behind the counter.
"Good morning to you too, Ruth. You're looking beautiful today," He said, not missing a beat.
The older woman did not falter. "Oh Chase. Spouting fertiliser again, I see."
He laughed it off, but could not suppress the irritation that sparked up at her words. Everyone usually accepted his charm, even when it was just an act, but some – like Ruth and Yolanda – saw through it and would not allow it to go overlooked.
"So what's good today?" Chase asked, not giving her the chance to best him.
"Everything was picked fresh this morning," Ruth answered flatly, "Like always."
His gaze passed over the fresh vegetables and fruits that were laid out in rows across wooden stands. Everything was so healthy and plump, they practically sparkled with perfection. Weekly shopping always came as a challenge – buying the whole store was just so tempting! He restricted himself to the basics, choosing tomatoes, corn and onions, along with one treat for himself – his favourite summertime fruit, oranges. His mind already ran through the possibilities of what to do with them.
While Ruth processed his purchases, packing everything away into a cardboard box to make the trip home easier, Chase allowed his eyes to wander. They settled on Anissa who worked at a counter on the opposite side of the room. Her slender fingers bundled together flowers, which she then tied up with ribbon into small bouquets.
She sensed someone was watching her and glanced up. "I couldn't interest you in a sunflower, could I?" She offered kindly.
Chase opened his mouth, smile ready and prepared to say, 'They're lovely, but not today,' yet suddenly found himself rendered speechless as his gaze fell upon the large yellow blossoms. He never cared for plants – after all, what use would they be to a cook? – but those sunflowers, so bright and vibrant, brought Holly's face to his mind again. It was an unbidden thought, the possibility that he could make her smile with one of those flowers.
"Do you need anything else?"
Ruth's voice brought him out of his trance. He jolted to attention. "Oh… uh… n-no."
"Are you sure?" She raised an eyebrow and she followed his line of sight over to where her daughter was arranging the flowers.
He swallowed, needing to respond but his voice was lost. He couldn't stop picturing it – how her face would finally lift into a smile upon receiving something that he picked out just for her. His heart suddenly skipped.
"A sunflower is a great gift for your sweetheart."
His mouth fell open, indignant, embarrassed, flabbergasted.
"I-It's not like that!" He managed to choke out. "She, I mean… we're just friends!"
"Oh." Ruth's expression remained stony but the corners of her lips twitched slightly – trying not to laugh, "Well, they make great gifts for friends too."
Chase looked down, hoping to hide the flush he could feel creeping across his face. He wanted to just take his groceries and retreat back to his house, but something, that annoying voice inside his head, wouldn't let him move from that spot.
Then, the older woman made a decision for him. "Anissa, bring Chase the best sunflower you can find," She instructed.
"Coming right up," Her daughter obliged. He heard as she rustled through the bundles.
They both pointedly ignored the expression of unease on his face.
Anissa soon appeared by her mother's side, ribbon wrapped sunflower in hand. "Here you go–"
"W-Wait!" He blurted.
Mother and daughter stared at him. "Is there a problem?" Anissa asked.
Chase pursed his lips together, staring at the flower. He slowly opened his mouth; what came out shocked himself as much as it did the two women.
"Flowers… don't last long like this. Right?"
The mother and daughter shared a look. "Well, no," Ruth replied.
His hand closed into a fist by his side.
"Don't you have something that… would last longer?"
Their eyes widened with barely concealed surprise. Chase looked away, suddenly feeling overcome by the summer heat and embarrassment – was it really such a shock that he seemed interested in buying a present? Anissa was the first to smile, gently, and her mother soon followed, though hers seemed a little more amused.
"In that case… Anissa, fetch over one of the potted sunflowers."
The daughter nodded and hurried off to the flower display again.
"Planning to make an impression, I see," Ruth observed. Chase wouldn't dare look up now, keeping his stare locked on the old wooden counter. Anissa returned moments later with a sunflower set in a terracotta pot. It even had a ribbon tied around the middle.
Amendments were made to the total price and the pot plant joined the other groceries in the cardboard box. He paid and picked up the box, more than ready to leave.
"Chase with a friend," Ruth laughed, "I never thought I'd see the day."
Chase left the Soufflé Farm, grumbling to himself. It wasn't that unbelievable, was it?
What was really unbelievable was that his attempt to get her off his mind had failed spectacularly.
Although, as he headed through the field back towards the Maple Lake District with a sunflower swaying side to side in front of his face, a strange feeling washed over him. Something inside him felt as if it had been cut loose and was now floating off to its freedom around his body, leaving behind a strange giddiness.
Excitement?
He frowned. Something was definitely wrong with him today.
Chase made it home with his sanity relatively intact. He concluded that this unexpected excitement was simply caused by his fresh new ingredients, nothing else. But, when he entered the kitchen he was proved wrong. The air still felt stifling and much too heavy. Chase did his best to ignore it, thinking of recipes again as he restocked the refrigerator and cupboards, until everything was packed away – except for the sunflower.
Flowers needed sunlight, he knew that much. His hands shook a little as he lifted the pot and placed it on the windowsill. Its bright yellow petals highlighted the off-white curtains either side of it.
Chase narrowed his eyes at the offending plant. How was the mere thought of her able to make him act like this – unpredictable, and uncharacteristic of his personality?
When his stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten all day, Chase prepared a sandwich with a glass of orange juice on the side. He ate, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the sunflower that suddenly cast a large shadow across his kitchen.
And after his meal was finished, Chase couldn't take it anyone. He ran away from his own kitchen for the second time that day, retreating into town, to the only other place on Waffle Island that gave him any sort of reprieve.
A cheerful voice floated his way as he pushed open the door. "Welcome to the Sundae Inn! – Oh it's just you Chase." Just as her voice had dropped, Maya's cheerful smile faded into disinterest.
So much for a warm welcome.
The younger girl wandered off to the bar and he followed her. Yolanda watched them curiously from over her shoulder.
"What kind of greeting was that?" He snorted.
Maya rolled her eyes. "You work here! Hey… it's your day off, why are you here anyway?"
"See, this is why you need more friends Chase," Yolanda cut in, as always unable to resist a chance to criticise.
He shot her a charming smile. "I'm here as a paying customer."
Maya set her hands on her hips. "Are you really going to buy something?"
Chase sat down on one of the bar stools, leaning his elbows against the counter, "Nah, I just ate."
She shook her head and took up the seat next to him. "How can you still come to work on your day off? I'll trade with you. I'd rather be outside in the sun than in here."
Maybe she had a point. It seemed to be a slow day; the first in a while. The tables were all empty, bar for one. At the table closest to the stairs, Calvin the archaeologist sat, surrounded by multiple piles of old books. Chase found himself wondering what the older man was up to.
"He's still at it?" He muttered to Maya, "Just what is he doing?"
The archaeologist had become something a permanent fixture at that table. Everyday, at around the same time, Calvin returned to the inn with yet another armload of books. Surely he must've read through the entire Town Hall library by now.
Sometimes, Holly would even join him.
They had grown rather close over the past few weeks, he had noticed. Always talking. Always laughing. Always together.
Not that it bothered him. How could it?
Friendship was never an exclusive thing, after all.
Taking a quick look around to ensure no one was listening, Maya gestured him in closer. "Mr Calvin's been acting really strange lately, don't you think? Look, he even started shaving!"
Chase shrugged. "Nothing strange about shaving. I do it every day."
Maya got an odd look on her face, staring bug-eyed, as if he'd suddenly grown another head.
"What?" He huffed.
She snapped out of her daze and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, it's just… I imagined you with a beard. But that's exactly my point! You'd look weird if you suddenly stopped. Mr Calvin, on the other hand…"
"Looks like a romance novel cliché," Chase finished in a deadpan.
"I know, right?" She said with a dreamy sigh. "He always seemed so… rugged and wild. Though, I guess he does look a lot younger now."
"I think he looks fine. It does a man good to neaten up every now and then," Yolanda added as she placed a plate on to the counter. Her eyes had darted to the messy bangs that fell across his forehead. He pinned back the worst parts, what more did she want?
Maya reached across the counter for the plate but Chase was quicker. "Here, I'll take it," He announced.
"Huh? But–"
"You wanted a break, right?" He gave her a dazzling smile and strode across the room before anyone could stop him.
Chase set the order on the table but the archaeologist didn't look up from his work.
"Your food," He said.
The other man slowly raised his head. "Oh… thank you," He murmured, mind still someplace else.
Chase stole a look at the papers and books littering the table. Nothing but dull, old history texts. At the least, he could appreciate the older man's dedication. It made him think back to the many days he slaved over a chopping board trying to perfect his knife technique, or the hours he spent tasting and testing various spice combinations.
Noticing that he'd gained a spectator, Calvin put down his pencil and glanced up again. "Is… something wrong?"
Yes – the word sat on the tip of his tongue. He swallowed it. "You're studying… those bells, right?" He asked instead.
Curiosity lit up the archaeologist's eyes. "I am."
Now what? Chase wasn't the best conversationalist; this particular topic only made things more difficult. "And… do you know what Holly has to do with them?"
"I do."
"And you believe her?"
Calvin leant back into his chair. His now free hand rose to massage his – cleanly shaven – chin. "Absolutely."
Chase stared at the table, not really seeing anything at all. He bit the inside of his lower lip.
"…I want to help," He finally admitted. The words sounded so foreign, even to his own ears.
"You should be telling this to Holly," Calvin advised.
He frowned. "But I haven't exactly been… open-minded about this."
"Don't worry. She'll be happy to know she has another friend supporting her."
Friend. That word again.
"In fact, Holly should be on her way here," Calvin continued, "We're just going to be looking through these old books, but you're welcome to join us."
But what did he know? He wasn't an archaeologist. The only thing he had any idea about was cooking.
Chase eyed the books one more time. "Actually, I'm kind of in the middle of something. I doubt I'd be much help anyway."
For a split second, Calvin levelled his gaze with Chase's, before his sharp features relaxed into an understanding smile. But there was something more to that smile; he saw curiosity and something familiar.
Suspicion.
At that moment Chase came to a quick decision. Without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the Sundae Inn, he made a beeline straight to the door.
He pulled it open, just as she reached out for it.
The mere sight of her stopped his brain. Her name slipped past his lips without him even realising.
"Holly…"
She raised her head. Her eyes – which were so often lost in thought these days – brightened and stared straight into his.
"Hello, Chase."
It was his turn to speak. But instead, he allowed the conversation to fall still, as it often did between them. He wanted to scrutinise her closely, to make sure she was eating well and taking care of herself, so the damn voice in his head would stop worrying so much and allow him to get on with his life.
"Chase? Are you okay?"
He blinked. Holly was watching him, a slight crease between her brows. Though not from worry. She almost seemed amused.
"Uh. Yeah, of course. Why?"
She giggled softly, "You suddenly spaced out."
Unable to think of a retort, he crossed his arms defensively and gave her a hard stare. Still, he couldn't help that his tone softened when he finally located his voice. "…How have you been?"
"Better, thanks." A smile flittered across her lips, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. Eyes, Chase realised, that still showed the strain of fatigue.
"That's… good," He tried.
But they could never escape the silence.
Holly glanced at the door. "Well… Calvin's waiting for me."
"Yeah."
Her smile weakened a little. "I'll see you later."
He stepped out of her way and Holly entered the inn, door closing behind her.
Perhaps that's why he felt annoyed when he saw them together. Their friendship had evolved past the awkward pauses and mental blocks. They were relaxed around each other. Cared for one another, openly. A closeness he'd never experienced before.
It hit him.
On that Sunday, in front of the Sundae Inn, Chase finally realised it. He wanted a friend – a real friend. Someone to learn about and share interests, to speak to without the uncomfortable silence, someone who Chase could be comfortable around so that he wouldn't have to keep up this façade.
And he wanted that person to be Holly.
He broke out into a run. Through the paved pathways of Waffle Town, on to the dirt trails in the Maple Lake District, until he reached the front door of his house. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made it difficult to slot his keys into the doorknob, but once he succeeded in unlocking it, he was rushing again, down the halls and towards the kitchen.
The potted sunflower sat on the windowsill, reflected in the glass.
Chase grabbed it.
Just one last destination to visit.
He'd been to her farm before, obviously, yet this time it seemed as if the path, the surrounding field, everything had grown miles longer, just to taunt him. When Chase finally reached Holly's house, he was huffing and puffing. He leant against the door, clutching the pot plant to his chest, trying to catch his breath. Professional athlete he was not, and probably would never be.
Slowly, his breathing returned to normal. For a moment, Chase stopped to take in his surroundings. He would never admit it aloud, but he enjoyed coming to Holly's farm. Compared to the Soufflé Farm, it hardly looked like a farm at all, yet the hard work and dedication – two things he admired greatly – shone through its dilapidated appearance.
Small green stalks poked out of the russet coloured soil, the first time he'd seen any sign of life from her crops. The one and only farm animal, a cow, grazed in the nearby field. The aroma of freshly cut hay was strong in the air.
That was Holly's scent: hay and something floral, like soap or shampoo. He remembered how it had even overpowered the spicy aroma of his kitchen, as he held her close that one afternoon.
A loud moo suddenly disturbed his reverie. Her cow seemed to be watching him from afar, a guard dog.
"Be quiet rump roast," He muttered.
But he was thankful for the reminder. Chase looked down at the sunflower in his hands. His heart started racing again. Thump, thump, thump.
With food there was always an easy excuse. 'Yolanda sent leftovers' or 'I made too much.' What would he say if he was caught leaving a present on her doorstep?
Chase knelt at the front step. His trembling hand set the plant pot on the cracked concrete. His heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears, making it difficult to think. However, another emotion awakened deep inside him, not excitement but something similar that gave him the same light-headed feeling. Thump, thump, skip.
He stood up and took one last look at the sunflower. He smiled.
Chase suddenly froze. He heard footsteps, voices – two; hers and his, and laughter. Panic seized his mind. He needed to hide away, quick.
He ducked out of sight around the wall and quietly manoeuvred his way through the long grass, until he was behind the barn that sat parallel to the house. The voices were growing nearer.
Here he was reduced to hiding in the shadows, where who knows what kind of spiders and snakes could be lurking underfoot. In opened-toed sandals no less. Was friendship really worth this? He asked himself.
It would be, if he wasn't such a coward. If he wasn't so afraid of letting people get close to him.
Chase let his eyes fall closed and tried to calm his agitated heartbeat. Their voices and laughter drifted by on the breeze, though, making him feel even worse.
"Holly, it looks like someone left you a present," He heard Calvin say. His eyes snapped open.
"But who?" She sounded surprised – and touched.
"A secret admirer, perhaps?" Calvin quipped.
Chase's stomach flip-flopped. Before he could stop himself, he was edging closer along the side of the barn, peering around the worn wooden wall. The view wasn't perfect, half obscured by the house, but he just had to see the look on Holly's face.
He had to see her smile.
"Calvin, you didn't…" She was murmuring.
The archaeologist shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't take credit for this sweet gesture."
"Really?" Chase frowned. There was a touch of disappointment to her voice.
"Unfortunately," He replied. "Although, this sweet gesture, on the other hand…"
Holly giggled. He brought their bodies together, closely, sunflower wedged between them. Touched her face. Lowered his head as she raised hers to meet him halfway.
Chase forced himself to avert his gaze. This was an entirely too private moment he shouldn't have been witnessing.
When he dared to look again, they had separated and Holly was smiling. A real smile.
Holly glanced at the plant in her hands. "I wonder who it was…"
"We should probably give it some water. Who knows how long it's been sitting out here," Calvin suggested.
She nodded. He heard the door swing open and they disappeared into the house.
An eternity passed before Chase deemed it safe enough to move from his shadowy cover. As he silently slipped away, he caught sight of something yellow in the nearby window.
In the end, his gift had done very little to cheer her up.
But, he came to realise, it didn't matter.
As long as Holly was happy.