17 Summer, Year 3

Harvey wants to talk

A day after Maru's visit, I get a letter in the mail. It's from Harvey. I can't get it open fast enough.

"Dear Evan,

I would like to invite you over to my apartment for dinner. I think this letter should arrive by Tuesday, so just to be sure, I would suggest Wednesday at 6 pm.

Please let me know if you can't make it, or if the timing doesn't suit you. I don't want to be in the way of your work, but there are a few things I would like to discuss with you.

Kind regards,

Harvey"

I take a deep breath to calm my heart. Harvey wants to talk. Tomorrow.

I've been occupying myself with the community center partly just because it's so cool what's going on, but a large part of it is also that as long as I keep my mind on other things, I won't be thinking about Harvey. I'm trying to stop myself whenever I catch myself daydreaming about spending time with him, but that becomes harder and harder as the night falls. Now he wants to talk?

I put the letter in my pocket and try to put my mind on other things. This doesn't need to mean anything – it might not have anything to do with our last conversation. Hell, it might just be a friendly gesture. I need to keep myself in check.

I go check on the baby calf. She's doing fine, so I get on with my farm work, harvesting, planting, checking for disease or parasites. I have ended up getting into the habit of munching on produce raw if I happen to get hungry while I'm busy – I don't want to interrupt what I'm doing just to get something out of the fridge, it would be a waste of time – and generally only eat one real meal a day, in the evening. I'm turning into my grandfather. After farm work, I grab a couple of new dressed spinners and a cork bobber and go fish for sturgeon.

On Wednesday, I go to the village, find that there's nothing on the 'help wanted' board, and kind of hang around the park for most of the time I have left.

At 6 pm sharp I go into the clinic and up the stairs. I listen at the door for a minute and have the impression I'm hearing a spoon go around in a pan. I knock politely and wait.

Harvey waits a few seconds, apparently still expecting me to come in on my own.

"Come in, please, Evan," he says then, loudly, from the other side of the door. I go in.

What I walk into looks a lot like a low-hanging cloud, and I swallow a joke about airplanes and clouds. The smell, though, is amazing, and interestingly the most recognizable thing I can find in there is cranberry.

"Good evening, Evan. You can sit down if you like, I'll be right with you."

The table, which has always been covered in magazines, medical literature, and half-finished model airplanes, is now empty save for cutlery in two places opposite each other.

"Would you mind if I open the window for a bit?" I ask. "It's a bit smoky in here."

"Yes, sure. I'm sorry, I should've thought of it myself."

I open the window and then sit down at the table. I don't really know how to behave, or if I should be saying something – I never had the impression Harvey enjoyed small talk, and neither to I, but it feels wrong to be eating the man's food without exchanging a word.

Apparently he has the same kind of idea. As he comes over with two plates, he asks:

"So how's life on the farm right now? Is your calf okay?"

"Oh, she's great. Very curious. Always trying to eat my clothes, as babies do, I guess. How about here? No pandemics on this side of Ferngill?"

"Not so far, thank Yoba. I hope I'll never have to live through that."

"Well, this sure smells amazing. Am I allowed to know what it is?"

"It's something I loved myself when I was in university. There was a student restaurant there that made it. I paid close attention to it, tried to figure out the ingredients, and learned to copy it. They called it 'Super Meal'."

It's certainly the most interestingly-flavored dish I've ever had, though I can only identify the cranberries, artichoke, and something lettuce-like that I'm sure I grow on my farm as well – bok choy, probably. Mine isn't in season right now, but then neither are cranberries. Probably frozen. We eat in silence, a tense, expectant silence. Then Harvey clears the plates away and sits back down. I wait.

After a minute or so, Harvey sighs.

"You keep on embarrassing me in public," he accuses. This is about that stuff in the pub, then.

"Embarrassing me in public. You had nothing to do with it. The stuff at the Flower Dance, sure, I was stupid, I'll give you that. But considering the whole problem we've both had here since the beginning is that we have no clue how 'the public' would react if they knew, it was necessary to find out. I only told them about me. I'm free to leave if they react badly, and you'll be fine."

"Wait, you... you want to leave?" He's getting his typical worried look back.

"I don't want to, no. I like this place, I like the people, I'm doing great on the farm. But what I said in the pub was true: I have stuff that I want to do with my life. I'm not interested in breaking down every time I walk into the town square because I need something from around here and spot you, or every time I have a flu. I also don't think I'm going to get this close with anyone else in the village. And I don't want to stay here if that's going to mean I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life. So if you don't want me, then that gives me more reasons to leave than to stay."

In truth, I would be heartbroken if I had to leave Harvey behind, but here's the thing: I believe that every pot has more than one lid that fits on it. Being together with a person always requires some adaptation from both sides: every person has a few habits or ideas that would irk another person, and which ones a particular partner is going to stumble over are going to be different depending on who that person is and what their priorities are. That's the true meaning of the phrase 'no one is perfect'. Still, humans are programmed to keep on falling in love all their lives, even if they're already 'taken'. I'm sure Harvey won't be the last person I fall in love with. If I leave, there'll be other people where I go next, and I will end up getting close to some of those like I did here in Pelican Town.

He looks at me for a few seconds.

"But would you just leave the farm behind...?"

Oh, I'm getting so tired of these excuses. He doesn't want me to leave. Is that so hard to say?

"I'm not the only one capable of doing what I do on that farm every day. I'm not thinking about selling it, absolutely not, don't worry. But there's several young people in this town who don't really have a future, or even an education. One day, Kent is going to die. Jodi doesn't do anything to bring in money, and Sam works part-time at Joja, which is a soul-killer, as I can attest. Someone is going to need to bring in money to feed that family, and that's without mentioning that Sam is in love with Penny, who also can't really do anything with her life unless she leaves town. So if I leave, I'm thinking about seeing if Sam would like to be in charge of the farm while I'm gone. Then I can go off anywhere in the world, maybe find another abandoned farm and break it in, or find something completely different to do... I've done it once, I can do it again."

Silence falls. Harvey doesn't seem to be able to think of anything to say anymore.

For this once, just because I'm tired of this drama, I decide to push him.

"So really, the only reason I'm still here is you. If you really don't want me, just say 'no' and I'll be out of your hair. If there's anything else at all... I'm willing to break down all the barriers. Do you need time, space, just say the word, you have it. Is there a logistical problem, I'll solve it. If you don't feel safe here, I have no objection to leaving, the only thing is that I don't think you would want to leave."

To my consternation, Harvey's eyes look shiny by now. He takes off his glasses and wipes at them with a handkerchief.

"How could anyone possibly not want you, Evan," he says. "You're wasting your time on me."

Now I am doubly dumbfounded. None of what I'm hearing makes sense.

"Harvey... Have you gone crazy? Because I think you're talking to someone I can't see. Wasting my time? Are you serious?"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," he responds, looking at his hands.

"Then make me. Please." I put both of my hands on his – he wants to pull away, but I hold him there. "Because right now I can't understand how the most intelligent, genuine, caring man I know can think something like that. My love... what have they done to you?"

He scoffs, his eyes full of tears again, and pulls out of my grip this time as he stands up.

"I am an ugly, neurotic coward, Evan. Only good for one thing. Now I've ruined that too." He turns away, rubbing his face with one hand, then faces me again. "You are my patient. If you fall in love with me, that means I have abused my power over you."

It's like I just can't get an end to the pure astonishment he keeps on putting me through. I'm reeling. I'm getting angry.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and force myself to relax. I look at something else for a moment – the kitchen just happens to be in my line of sight – and put my thoughts together.

"I didn't fall in love with you because you're a doctor."

"No. But I get to see people at their lowest points. I know their secrets. It's my job to make them feel better and I chose for that job. I got too close to you when you were too vulnerable. That was my mistake, and I am sorry that I put you through this, but I have to take that responsibility."

"I was already in love with you then. I tried to warn you away because I knew I was already down. Do you remember when I accidentally walked in on you making contact with a real pilot? Sounded like it was the first time that had ever happened? When I walked in here at that moment, any other person would have... checked themselves, would have put on a mask. "Oh, someone can see me, I have to behave the way they expect me to". Not you. Thrilled like a child, running over to the window. More sincere than you ever needed to be, telling me about that childhood dream." I have to smile at the memory. "That was adorable. And I know, in that moment, if I had reacted negatively, you just would've stopped trying to be friends with me and you would've moved on with your life. You've never needed my approval. I can't do that. I'm always with that mask on, worrying what other people would think of me."

"That was very obvious at the Saloon last week," Harvey comments dryly.

"Yes, there's a reason why I needed half a bottle of mead to be able to do that. I normally hate attention. There just happened to be something that was more important to me than my own discomfort for like half an hour. As I said already, I was ready to leave if they reacted badly. All these objections... What was it again..." I try to think back at what he said before. "Ugly? You are not ugly. I don't know where you got that from or who made you believe it, but you are not ugly. People might see a lack of confidence, I can see that ending in something like this – I have seen women flock to the ugliest fucks I've ever seen just because they were full of confidence, I really wonder how they ever got to that point, but well... that's one thing that I guess might have given you that idea. But you are handsome, and if you don't believe me, I will keep on repeating it until you do. What else was there, coward, was it? You know who's not a coward? Kent. Or that Marlon guy from that 'adventurer's guild'. These people are dangerous. I don't want a fighter. I don't want to have anything to do with fighters. All the fighters I've ever known have picked on me. First because I was weak and now because I'm a threat. If there's some kind of danger around, I'll deal with it. I'm unfortunately rather experienced at it by now."

"Oh, that's it, isn't it. You're gonna be the big strong man that defends the helpless damsel?"

I sigh, put my thoughts together again.

"When I had to stay here in the clinic for a few days. I was immediately worried about my animals. And your first reaction was "I'll ask Marnie to look after them". Not "I'll look after them". Why? Because you don't know how to look after these animals. You don't know what a chicken needs to be comfortable. You don't know how to milk a cow. You could learn it, if you needed to, but you never have needed to know those things, you've never been interested in those things, and also you have Marnie right here at hand, who knows all about that stuff who also doesn't have to be here 24/7 just in case someone sick or hurt comes in. You have your strengths, and there's a few things you're not good at – nobody can be good at everything, that's why we need other people. If I accidentally chop my foot off I'm not going to try and patch it up myself. If I want a new axe I'm also not going to try and make one myself. If I want a barn in my yard, I don't try to set that thing up myself, because I have no clue how to start aside from 'need planks'. I happen to be better at fighting than you, and you say you're a coward. So I'll deal with anything that requires not being a coward, and that's that problem solved. I'm not great at cooking, so I mostly eat raw food. Here you are cooking a delicious meal for me. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. It's been a while, because I prefer not having to scrub half an hour to get the burnt food out of my one cooking pot. I get myself cut up, I'll trust you to be the one not to faint at the sight of that needle going in and out of me. Okay?"

Harvey stands in his spot looking at me... owlishly, is really the only word I can find for it. Just staring with wide eyes.

I raised my voice. I didn't stand up – I'm still sitting on my chair – but that little outburst of mine was probably more... convinced than he'd expected.

I drop my face into my hands. Take few deep breaths. I am not angry – or at least this is not what I define as angry. It tends to come out when I feel like people aren't listening to me, or don't care about what I have to say.

I lift my head, slowly.

"I'm sorry," I say. "It may be evident by now that I'm not perfect, either. I had the impression you would already be aware of that, but if you weren't, there you go. I really am... grateful for the meal. Thank you."

It takes Harvey a few seconds to respond.

"You're welcome," he says then, still apparently frozen. I've gone too far.

Well, now I've done it myself.

"I'm sorry. I'll just... leave you be." I get up from my chair. "Goodnight."

He doesn't respond as I walk out.