"I've been thinkin' about what you said yesterday," were the first words I'd said to my grandpa when I stepped in to work the next day.

My comment interrupted whatever papers Gramps had been studying on his desk. "Oh?" He'd looked me up and down, brow raised and wrinkles around his eyes deeper than usual. "Regarding?"

I knew he wanted an answer to his proposition… or his not so gentle suggestion to reconcile with my mom the night before. But that wasn't what was on my mind. It'd been weeks since I'd woken up so energized, and it needed to be taken advantage of.

"What I can control," I intentionally emphasized the exact words he'd used with me the day before, despite the pounding against my chest. "I want you to teach me how to make jewelry. For real this time."

The request wasn't perfect—hell, it barely came out coherently—but it was the best I'd come up with after mulling over the idea all morning. I knew the basics, created things that barely qualified as jewelry, and now I wanted to make something real. Most of all, I just wanted to feel in control of anything for once in my fucking life.

And clearly, my request wasn't what Gramps expected.

"This sudden desire to make—" he paused, sitting back in his chair and narrowing his gaze—"jewelry, is there a specific reason for it?"

"A kid's expensive—you said that yourself." I matched his pointed look before raising my brow. "You've also said jewelry's where the big money's at. And you said you needa… get all the shit you know through this thick skull before you kick the bucket, right?"

I was so fucking relieved he exhaled a dry chuckle rather than whapping me upside the head.

But of course, when the creases returned to his forehead, I knew I wasn't off the hook. "And the other matters I brought up yesterday?"

"I'll… uh, I'll let you know," I answered, rolling my shoulders to fight the impulse to tense them. "Not ready yet."

The corners of his lips twitched while my words settled between us. I waited for him to press further or load me up with more bullshit to 'consider,' but he surprisingly nodded and cleared his throat instead.

"Well, alright," Gramps groaned as he pushed up from his spot. "Then we better get to it while we still have time."

I couldn't control what bullshit my grandpa tried to push on me. But I could control myself—or at least, I could sure as shit try—and I needed something to get excited about. Anything. A distraction I could devote myself to that didn't end in me shitfaced and fucking everything up. And it was an added benefit that my something to get excited about made Gramps feel the same way.

Prep for our previously planned projects had to be finished before my crafting lessons could pick up where they left off in the spring, Gramps insisted. I was too excited to get upset about the delay, though. The prospect of learning something new, something that could positively impact my future, remained at the forefront of my mind. Maybe it was the good night's sleep or the relative peace in my mind, but I was blowing through tasks that usually took me twice the amount of time to complete.

Surprise on my grandpa's face whenever I'd return to his desk and ask "what next?" only spiked my confidence. He spent more time than usual, double, even triple-checking my work each time, which only confirmed that my pace was out of the ordinary. And I wanted to make it my new ordinary. No—I needed it to become my new ordinary.

But by the time I'd finally finished up all the assignments Gramps had planned for me, the day was practically over. When I returned to my grandpa for my next project, he only nodded toward the clock. And that's when I finally noticed the golden afternoon light streaming through the windows.

"I wasn't expecting your sudden rush to resume training, so I apologize that we didn't get to it today." A ripple of cracks erupted as he rocked his neck side to side and glanced up to the clock again. "It's well past three, but if you wanted to stay, I suppose we could get a head start before tomorrow."

I caught the impulse to agree while the word rested on my tongue. Under any other circumstances, I would have stayed in a heartbeat. But of course, the offer came the same day I'd finally been invited to Claire's. And who knew if we would stay on good terms long enough for it to happen again.

"Oh. I, uh…" I fiddled with my hat, unsure of what to say or how to say it without getting too much shit from my grandpa. "You're fine, Gramps. We can just start tomorrow."

He chuckled in response as he settled back in his chair. "Did working at a satisfactory pace for once tire you out?"

"No, just figured I'd tired you out," I scoffed with a slight smirk. "Plus, I, uh… got some shit I gotta do today."

"Oh?" He asked, raising a single bushy brow.

"Yep."

He didn't say anything further but kept those icy gray eyes on me expectantly.

So either I could tell him where I was going and potentially take whatever bullshit teasing he'd come up with, or awkwardly peace out and play 21 Questions with him first thing tomorrow morning.

I sighed and peeled off my gloves and eyewear as I wandered back to my workbench. It wasn't until I'd reached the opposite corner of the room from my grandpa that I decided to finally admit the truth he'd eventually get out of me anyway.

"Claire invited me over yesterday." I finally answered as I shoved the protective equipment into the top drawer. "Told her I'd stop by after work."

He hummed in a low tone. "I see." I couldn't see his face, but it just sounded like he was trying to fight a smile. "Then I suppose tomorrow it is."

"Yep," I replied on my way to the door, ignoring every urge to look back at the smug face I knew he'd be sporting. "See ya then."

When Gramps returned the goodbye, I figured I was off the hook. But as I opened the door, he had to add an incredibly annoying, "Tell Claire I say hello."

"Fine," I groaned before letting the door slam behind me. I wasn't even sure why that closing request irked me, but it did, and I was glad to be outside.

A gust of air chilled my face before it continued to rustle through the trees lining the path. It was a pleasant change from the day before; the weather finally seemed appropriate for the season and more tolerable as well. When I glanced to the west, falling yellow leaves scattered the cobblestones as if leading me to the place I'd been avoiding thinking about all day. But I followed the trail anyway, letting them crunch under my boots on the way to Freedom Fields.

Work had finally been a decent distraction from Claire and my worries about her and the kid. But now that I was faced with following through on… truthfully, something I wanted, I wasn't sure how to approach the situation.

I couldn't barge into Claire's and start blurting out every concern that bombarded my brain. Honesty was good, but that approach had failed catastrophically enough to scare me into trying anything else. Somehow convincing Claire to conclude that she was working unsustainably on her own seemed like my best bet… but actually pulling that off was another story.

As my feet stopped under the sign to Freedom Fields, I anticipated searching Claire's property for her like usual. I absolutely didn't expect to see her marching directly towards me, a flash of a red hoodie, overalls, and a blonde ponytail pacing the grassy perimeter of her field. When I thought Claire was close enough to see me, she rounded the corner without moving her eyes from the grass. Maybe Claire didn't see me, but the panic in her eyes and the creases on her forehead were as clear as ever.

My eyes followed the muddy red hoodie disappearing towards the eastern side of her property until my feet were doing the same. I wasn't sure what my plan would be, but at least she'd invited me over this time.

I caught up to Claire crouching down in front of one of the remaining plots of corn, the tall green shoots rustling together as her hands frantically pushed various stalks to the side. She didn't acknowledge my existence—which wasn't a surprise—only continued grumbling unintelligibly.

"Hey, uh…" I scratched the side of my head. "You all good?"

I wasn't sure why I expected a response to that. It was annoying as fuck, but I should have known the only way to get an answer was to ensure she was looking directly at me. And even then...

I took another step closer and crouched down next to her. "Uh, hey, Claire—"

"Holy shit!" she shrieked, hastily pushing off my arm. Before I'd realized what happened, Claire was sitting a few feet away from me, staring at me with wide eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Y-you invited me here?" I defended myself despite how self-conscious that reaction left me.

"Yeah, I invited you to come work, not to scare the shit out of me." She crawled back over on her knees, searching the base of the stalks one last time. After a minute of ignoring me, she sighed and sat back on her heels. "Not over here," she mumbled under her breath. "Then where?"

I glanced around as if that would give me any clue what the hell was going on. "Where what?"

Claire shook her head, rolling her eyes as if my question wasn't even worth answering, and sprang up to her feet. I followed her lead, slowly pushing up from my spot. But the instant I stood up, Claire's knees gave out from underneath her—like her bones turned to jelly the second she'd gotten entirely upright.

At first, I thought she was making some sort of dramatic joke, but then I got a glimpse of the glazed-over look in her eyes while her hand limply grasped for my forearm. I latched on to her wrist weakly gripping my sleeve, and my free hand snatched her other arm out of the air to stop her from dropping to the ground. Her momentum threatened to drag us both down, so I resisted, taking a knee to slowly lower her back to a seat in the grass.

"Claire?" My heart must have been pounding a million miles a minute as I crouched over her, waiting for some sort of sign that she was okay. But her eyes remained squeezed shut while she took slow, shallow breaths. "Hey!"

"Stop," she whispered in a single breath, but the pained expression on her face didn't change in the slightest.

As soft as it was, the sound caused my pulse to slow and grip around her arms to loosen. "Wha—"

"Shh. Too loud." Claire wriggled her arms out of my hands and sat back on the grass without opening her eyes. "I'm fine. Just got up too fast."

"Uh… okay." She didn't exactly look fine, but I was at a loss of what to do. "Can I help?"

She pushed the bangs from her forehead and opened her eyes ever so slightly. "Need my water bottle. That's what I'm looking for."

"That's what you've been doin'? Lookin' for a fuckin' water bottle?" I couldn't help how loud my voice had gotten. The situation was fucking ridiculous, she was fucking ridiculous, and I couldn't believe any of this was actually happening. "Your house is right there! Just go get some fuckin' water! Are you serious?"

Claire took a deep breath and finally opened her eyes all the way. "That takes too long. If I just had my water bottle, I could drink water now."

"Yeah?" I asked, raising a brow as I returned to my feet. "Then how long have you been lookin' for it?"

"You asked if you could help me, not lecture me," she quipped back, glaring up at me from her seat in the grass. As annoying as it was, the returning sass was reassuring.

I stared down at her and ran through all the comebacks I could respond with. All of them were shitty or would likely end with me being kicked off her property again, so I just clenched my jaw shut.

She raised her left hand and waved it towards me. "Now help me up, and then you can help me find my water bottle."

I couldn't help the eye roll as I pulled Claire to her feet. "I'm just gonna get you a glass of water." I started walking in the opposite direction towards her house, waiting for her objection… which surprisingly didn't come.

It wasn't until I passed in front of the shipping box at the corner of her field that I heard Claire call, "Wait, use the plastic cup, please!"

When I stopped and turned to shoot her an annoyed look, I got a glimpse of a blue canteen hiding in the shadow between the shipping crate and a wicker basket full to the brim with corn.

"Claire?" I called over my shoulder.

"Ugh. What now?" Claire groaned from across the yard.

"What color's your water bottle?"

"Blue?"

I glanced over to the translucent blue bottle and then back to her. "Yeah, get over here."

"For what?" she had the audacity to sass me back.

"Just get your ass over here." I raised my eyebrows when the only face she gave in response was one of challenge. "Now."

She huffed and stomped towards me as if finding her water bottle was some major inconvenience to her. It only made me more excited to rub it in her face.

"What?" she demanded, placing a dramatic hand on her hip when she reached my side. "I thought you were getting me water."

I stepped closer, ignoring the sweet smell of earthy pine that surrounded her, and pointed at the object that had been creating so much idiotic contention. "Look."

Her eyes followed, and then that frown straightened out in an instant. "Oh." Claire's hand moved to the side of her neck as she released an airy chuckle and trotted to retrieve the half-full bottle. "I knew it was around here somewhere."

I pressed against my temples. "You're fuckin' ridiculous."

"It was hidden!" Claire defended herself through sips of water. A satisfied sigh left her lips before she wiped drops of water from the sides of her mouth. "But thanks for finding it!" she added with a wide grin that seemed to dissipate all my annoyance.

And that only annoyed me all over again.

"Yeah, no problem." I fixed my hat, trying to focus on anything else. Eventually, my mind settled on the notion that friend's smiles shouldn't make your heart skip beats or dumb shit like that.

"Okay! I'm going to fill this bad boy up, and then we can get to work!" Claire announced, as chipper as ever. She didn't wait for me to respond before taking off towards her house, like always.

I was still processing what the fuck had happened when Claire emerged from the door minutes later. To my surprise, she had not one but two full water bottles in hand—hers and an identical one in red.

"Here!" She held the red bottle out to me with a smile. "For you!"

I took the matching canteen and stared back at her in disbelief. "You had another one inside this whole time?"

"Well, I kind of forgot about it until now. But now we both can stay hydrated!" Claire replied with unwavering enthusiasm as if she hadn't been just about passed out on the grass five minutes ago. "Ready to get going?"

I was just going to ignore that whirlwind of a greeting and nodded instead.

Water bottles in hand, Claire led me back over to the same place she'd been scouring through earlier. She threw the canteen into the grass and motioned to the plots of corn towering behind her.

"We have to get everything cleared out of here so I can turn over the land tomorrow." Her long blonde ponytail flipped over her shoulder as her back turned to me. "I'm already behind, and I need to get the seeds I started in the ground."

It just seemed like work that led to more work, which I guess was the name of the game when it came to farming. Though the idea of Claire loading herself up with more work after her little incident earlier didn't ease my worries at all.

But I needed her to come to the conclusion herself, so I kept my stupid mouth shut and took a sip of water.

"Okay, so listen up because I don't want to repeat myself," her stern voice carried from over her shoulder. "We need to find one that's nice and full…" she trailed off as her hand darted between the greenery hanging off the stalks in front of us. "Here! Come here!" Claire waved me over with her free hand while the other remained between the leaves.

I dropped my bottle and trudged over, annoyed that she felt the need to give me a step-by-step tutorial on something so seemingly simple.

"Firmly grasp it," Claire instructed without looking at me.

I took another step closer. "Huh?"

She groaned as her hand left its place on the corn and clamped around my wrist. "Grab the freaking corn, Gray, duh." Claire forced my hand to grip the same ear of corn, her eyebrows raising as she did. "Feel that?"

"Uh… yeah," I muttered out of instinct as I felt her frigid hand leave mine.

It bothered me that she seemed so unaffected by grabbing me when it made my brain short circuit every single time. It didn't seem fair at all. Was touching each other really not that big of a deal to her, or was I just blowing it out of proportion? Why did I even care so much?

Focus on the fucking corn.

"That one's perfect—we want to harvest everything that looks and feels like that first," Claire continued, annoyingly unfazed. "The silks should be brown and crispy too, that's how you know." She looked back to the stalks, searching for something. "Oh! Here!" After a sharp snap, she presented an ear of corn about half the size of the one I had in my hand.

I released the original ear to hold the shrunken one. "Baby corn?"

Claire hissed a laugh. "No, silly, they just didn't pollinate correctly. I'm not using them for the festival or shipping them, so they're our last priority. Just make sure they don't end up in the same basket as the good ones, y'know?"

"Oh. Uh, okay."

"So the good corn goes in your basket, the not-so-good ends up in that crate over there," she instructed, cocking her head toward a black crate sitting in front of her barn, about a fourth of the way full of unsatisfactory corn.

I glanced down at the matching corn in my hand. "What're you gonna do with the rejects?"

She raised her brow, lips smugly pressed together. "You sure do ask a lot of questions for someone who knows it all." Claire snatched the corn out of my hand and stepped past me to toss it in the crate behind us. "And they're not rejects. They still have a purpose, but it's not really worth talking about right now. You know how to find the good ones, right?"

"Yeah—"

"Okay, so when you find them, grasp it real good." Claire returned her hand to the exemplar corn and glanced back at me to ensure I was watching. "Then bend it down." The stalk crackled as she pulled it down like a lever until the browned silks were pointing to the dirt. "And pop it up!"

A loud SNAP immediately followed as she yanked it by the base and held it out to me like a prize.

My eyes darted between her and the corn before she dropped it into the basket below. "Seems easy enough."

"Alrighty then." Her smile faded into a frown as she cocked her head toward the stalks. "Show me then."

I huffed away a witty response and searched for a satisfactory specimen that fit Claire's standards. After spotting golden-brown silks between the leaves, I wrapped my hand around the husk.

"You have to pull it down first," Claire added before I could even do anything else.

"I know," I groaned, doing just that. The stalk popped as I successfully yanked the corn off before presenting it to the micromanaging farmer. "Just had to gimme a sec."

Claire kicked the basket to my feet, but her eyes were glued to my hands. "Well, alrighty. I guess that'll do. Any questions before I unleash you?"

"Nope. Seems pretty straightforward," I answered, dropping my first harvest into the basket.

She made me repeat the process once more for good measure, but the conversation ceased when Claire was satisfied with my technique. I expected her to work alongside me, which I guess was a stupid assumption on my part, considering she grabbed her water and moved to the plot furthest from me.

Rows of thick, looming greenery shrouded Claire from my view while we worked. Snapping stalks and the occasional rustle of the wicker basket was my only indication she was even in my vicinity. But I figured it was easier to focus without her around to distract me. The easy work was reassuring. It was just corn, and imagining ways for Claire to hurt herself during something like this seemed next to impossible.

Unless she decides to get up too fast and passes the fuck out with nobody to catch her.

That was a fluke, I tried to comfort myself. But I had no idea if it actually was.

Another corn snapped off a few feet away from me, and I followed suit. I needed to think about something else. Anything else.

But my mom and Gramps's suggestions moving forward were the only other things on my mind… and I had no idea how or where to start dealing with any of that. It made me curious how Claire was thinking about her family moving forward. I knew she didn't have the best relationship with her mom either, so I figured she might understand where my head was at.

"I know you love corn, but you have to get it off the stalk before you can actually do something with it, y'know?" I heard Claire tease from behind.

I spun around to Claire, staring at the half-empty basket beside my feet while her arms tightly wrapped around one filled to the brim.

"I am," I muttered through gritted teeth.

"Alrighty, Mr. What-like-it's-hard," she mocked with a smirk. "Your pace pains me. And like, this is the easy stuff."

"I'm not sayin' it's hard." I turned back to the stalks and searched for another husk. "I just already worked today, in case you forgot."

"You know what they say about excuses," Claire sang as she hauled her corn away.

Excuses were the last thing I wanted to compare to an asshole, but I sucked it up. Maybe if I was less of an asshole, she'd follow my example.

When Claire strode by again with an empty basket, I stopped her with the wave of a hand.

"I, uh, I wanna ask you somethin'."

"Okay?" She dropped the empty basket at the same plot I'd been working on and reached her hands in between the leaves.

"About the baby."

"Okay?" Claire repeated with twice the annoyance in her voice and no eye contact.

I watched a few husks of corn hit the bottom of her basket before mustering up the courage to continue. "Are you… uh, you gonna tell your mom what's up?"

She froze, dropping one more husk in the basket before her eyes shot up to mine. "Why would you ask me something like that?"

"Gramps was just… sayin' some shit about how I should tell my mom and, uh… I dunno what I wanna do." My hands found the first husk it could feel and snapped it off. "It was a stupid question, just drop it—"

"No," she curtly cut me off, returning to the task in front of her. "I'm not."

I dropped the corn into my basket below. "Oh."

"If I tell her, she finds me, which is like, exactly what I'm trying to avoid." Her hands rustled through the leaves between us. "Plus, then the whole thing becomes about her controlling every aspect of my life, again. So yeah, absolutely not."

At first, I wanted to fucking rejoice that finally, somebody didn't expect me to include my mom in my life. After everything we'd been through, after everything she'd put me through, it didn't feel right to ignore all that just because I was having a kid.

Though underneath it all… there was a part of me that did want my mom to know. But the idea of her coming back into my life and the reality of it were two drastically different scenarios. And just because she'd left a hole didn't mean I had to let her back in to fill it.

I wiped the sweat from my hands and fixed my hat. "I get that."

"Do you want to tell your mom?" Claire asked, finally returning her eyes to mine.

I wasn't sure how to give an honest answer without unloading a lifetime of bullshit on her. "Dunno." Maybe if she wasn't with Jet. Maybe if she wasn't a hollow shell of who she used to be. "Just… wanted to see what you were thinkin'. I dunno."

"I kind of wish I could tell my brother," Claire admitted with a sigh. "I think he'd be excited."

My brow furrowed. "You have a brother?"

She nodded as she snapped another husk off the stalk. "Jack. He's my younger brother… but like, with my stepdad."

"Oh." There was finally one more thing I knew about Claire's family. Every time it was something new: she hated her mom, had never met her real dad, a now-deceased grandma had raised her, and to top it all off, she had a younger half-brother. It was strangely comforting knowing her family was a shitshow too. "So, why don't you tell him?"

Claire pushed a few stray hairs behind her ear. "Well… he still lives at home. He's only like 16." Her hand moved to scratch at her neck, and I realized neither of us was actually working anymore. "There's literally no way for me to tell him without her finding out."

I frowned. It seemed very unlike Claire to give up on something she wanted so easily. "No way at all?"

"No. Seriously, she's actually insane. Like I'm sure she has all the phones bugged by now, goes through all the mail, and like, she would get it out of him even if that wasn't the case." Claire let out a dampened sigh and closed her eyes. "I couldn't even tell Jack that I was leaving or where I was going because I knew she'd find me."

"Oh." I wasn't sure which thing to touch first.

"Do you have any siblings?" Claire quickly changed the subject before I could come up with something else to say.

"No." Thankfully, the closest I'd ever had to a sibling was probably Ann. And I didn't know she'd even existed until I'd visited Mineral Town for the first time. "My parents are the last people that need to have more kids."

Claire surprisingly giggled at that comment. "Yeah, my mom too, but that definitely didn't stop her." She froze as the last word left her mouth and then aggressively shook her head. "Shit, I mean I love my brother and all. But like, she's… different with him, y'know? Being the golden child and all has its perks."

Growing up, I had a hard enough time watching my friend's parents treat them better than I could ever dream of mine doing. Watching my parents love on my sibling while treating me like shit sounded like a special kind of hell. "I think I get what you're sayin'… kinda."

"That makes a lot of sense, though," Claire scoffed with a smirk. "That you're an only child."

"Huh?" That backhanded comment seemed to come out of fucking nowhere. "The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

But she just frowned at me like I was the one that had said something questionable. "Just that I can tell you were an only child."

"I don't—what the fuck would tell you that?" As the tension spread from my arms to my neck, I realized I was getting worked up over something beyond trivial. So instead, I rolled my shoulders in an attempt to drop it before I got myself booted home. "Whatever. Forget it, I don't give a shit."

"So, do you think you'll tell her?" Claire hit me with another quick topic change, shifting to that softer, silvery voice as she took a step closer to me.

I closed my eyes and released a huff instead of commenting on her most recent helping of verbal whiplash. "I dunno yet. Maybe later on…" I opened my eyes and raised a brow at her. "When you're ready to start tellin' people."

"I… I just want to get this week behind me. Then we can… y'know, discuss that more," Claire's reply came almost instantly before bending over to pick her basket off the ground. "So we should probably get back to work. You think you can manage the rest of this plot yourself?"

"Uh, yeah…" I trailed off, watching her weave through the greens, eventually disappearing within them. At first, I was annoyed at how swiftly she'd ended the conversation by walking away… and then I was just distracted by how good she looked doing it.

Focus on the corn, you fucking idiot, I not so gently reminded myself.

I wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually, I found a good rhythm. As I snapped ears off the stalk, my brain was limited to thoughts of corn only: wondering what Claire did with it all, how much she would make off all of it, what she did with the shrunken crops… so maybe it wasn't just corn, but at least the thoughts were tame.

Soon enough, I'd collected enough to carry off to the shipping bin. Baskets had been produced from the rows of bushy stalks between us just today alone, and this was only a fraction of what I'd seen last season. Plots of plump red tomatoes hung heavy from the trellis-entrapped vines further down the otherwise empty field, and I remembered a time when crops dominated her property. Before all this, I'd been impressed seeing how much was thriving on her land. Now the thought of something reminiscent of that popping up this fall fucking terrified me.

When I moved to the next plot, I spotted a copper foal trotting along the far end of Claire's property near the chicken coop. While it stood taller and beefier than it had when I'd seen it early last spring, it still wobbled through the grass on gangly legs it probably wouldn't grow into for a while. Watching it prance around in the distance reminded me of the hours I'd spend standing on the fence post at the stables as a kid, waiting for my mom whenever she worked late. Which was often.

And when I thought about it, most of the memories I had of my mom—the not awful ones at least—involved her working. I'd watched my mom work her ass off my entire life, and I knew, despite everything else, that she was still doing just that back in the city. Every single fucking day.

But it's not like she had a choice otherwise. Between the few times that we'd actually spend any time together, she was an exhausted, barely-there presence. Unless she was stuck dealing with whatever shit I'd gotten into that day. Or if she encountered Jet when he stumbled home drunk earlier than expected. Then it was screaming, crying, and watching her shrink beside the sink.

Then she'd get up and do it all again the next day. And when Jet was finally out of the house, she didn't stop. She probably couldn't have even if she wanted to. Remembering her bloodshot eyes and mud-encrusted boots, kicked off by the front door seconds before she collapsed on the couch, twisted knots into my stomach.

The situations weren't related, but somehow, those memories only left me more anxious about Claire's behavior. I couldn't help it.

I physically shook the worry away and took a look around the property just to ensure Claire missed watching me stand around… again. My hands searched for more husks until I was sure no others remained.

After who knows how long of circling the stalks, Claire and I eventually ended up on plots side by side. Her movements were swift and deliberate as both hands darted between greens and snapped stalks with ease, causing a steady flow of ears into her basket below.

Blue eyes remained locked on the task in front of her, oblivious to me working alongside her. Or at least it seemed that way until I caught a glimpse of her unmistakably watching me out of the corner of her eyes. I didn't realize I'd been staring until I had to snap back to the plant in front of me.

"Looks like someone finally put on the jets." I heard from my side, fighting every urge to peek at the smirk I knew she'd be shooting me. "Maybe it's not as easy as you think, huh?"

"I said what you do isn't complicated. And pickin' corn isn't complicated." I snapped another off the stalk and threw it in the basket below. "Just tedious as fuck."

"Well, this is like, the easy stuff," she muttered flippantly as she turned back to her work. "I didn't want to scare you off, then you wouldn't come back, and I couldn't take advantage of the free labor."

"Uh… okay." There was so much behind that statement that I wasn't sure which part to address first. The part where she insinuated she wanted me to come back? Or the part where she basically admitted to wanting the help she so confidently denied needing? My mind was stuck on the idea of what else she was doing that was potentially more complicated and probably much more dangerous.

"There's a lot of work that goes into all of this behind the scenes," Claire continued when I wasn't fast enough to say anything else.

There she went again, talking about how much she had on her plate. I couldn't help it when I stopped and turned to face her. "So, if you need the help, why didn't you hire Cliff?" She didn't look up at me or even acknowledge the question, so I tried again, "Claire?"

"I don't know why you'd ask me that," she huffed, taking a subtle step away from me without looking up from her work.

My lip turned up at her response. "And I don't know why you won't answer the question."

She rolled her eyes, but they didn't end up meeting mine at all. "Because I don't need to hire somebody to help me all the time."

"You just said you wanted to take advantage of the free labor. Obviously, you want some help."

"You're really not going to let this go, are you?" Claire groaned as she hucked her latest harvest in the basket below and finally turned to me. "Fine. I didn't hire Cliff because, first of all, I don't exactly have the money to. Between fixing up this place and investing in the farm… and y'know, saving for a baby…."

"Oh, okay—"

"Plus, like, even if I did, it's not like I have enough work to make it worthwhile for him. I don't need anything consistent. And I didn't want to get his hopes up like that."

"Alright, I get it—"

"And… if we're honest with each other because I know that's so important to you," Claire mockingly raised blonde eyebrows at me as she emphasized the last part of the sentence. "I just… didn't think it would be a good idea to spend that much time with him."

Everything else Claire had said made perfect sense. That on the other hand, I had no idea how to interpret.

"The fuck's that mean?"

"I don't think you're going to like the answer."

"Okay? Well, you can't say shit like that and then just leave it." I shook my head and exhaled loudly before looking back. "We're bein' honest with each other, right?"

She pushed out a matching deep breath before audibly swallowing. "When I first moved here, I... shit." A weak laugh interrupted her train of thought. "I spent a lot of time at the church. I mean, I still go, but like, not nearly as much now. But Cliff was always there too. And he was also new, so he got it, and, like, it was just so nice to be around, and... I don't know, I kind of maybe had, like, a little crush on him or something?"

I could have sworn my heart stopped beating for a split second. Not only was I not expecting that in the slightest, but fuck, did that confession make my skin crawl.

But why wouldn't she like Cliff? He was way more patient than me, kinder, more understanding, collected… wasn't an alcoholic. As Cliff's list of exemplary qualities grew, so did the gnawing in the pit of my stomach.

Claire was right. I fucking hated that answer. And that must have been clear just by the look on my face because she was immediately trying to back-pedal.

"But I, like, definitely don't feel that way anymore! It was stupid and fleeting, and especially when I found out Ann was like, obsessed with him, I had to shut that shit down," she quickly explained, her hands waving wildly as she did. "Plus, like, he's way too nice for me—I'd crush somebody like that. I just, y'know, didn't think it would be a good idea to spend a ton of time with him alone like that is all."

"Got it." I wasn't sure what else to say—I just wanted her to stop talking about it.

She tilted her head. "See? I knew the answer would make you uncomfy."

A groan was the first sound that left my mouth. "I'm not uncomfortable, just…" but my voice faltered as the lie left my lips. I knew if I held it in, I'd be thinking about it all night. "Fuck. Okay. Yeah. But it's not like that shit matters anymore, so it's whatever," I said more to myself than her.

"Yeah, it doesn't." She flipped her hair over her shoulder and returned to the corn in front of her. "But you got your answer, so we can drop it now."

I couldn't drop it, though. "So if you don't need the help, why'd you invite me over to help then?"

"Oh my gosh, you are so annoying today." It was a bold claim from the one person that was capable of annoying me far beyond what I thought was possible. "I just wanted, like, a little help, okay? Thomas asked me to help provide for the Harvest Festival, and it's, like, my first real debut in town. I'm next-level stressed about it, and I've just been like, stupid tired and feeling shitty the past couple days."

I knew I needed to say something. Claire had finally given me an opening to talk about a worry that had been consuming me. Coming up with words that wouldn't piss her off was a different story, and Claire's mouth evidently worked a lot faster than mine.

"You were super gung-ho about helping me the other day, so I don't know why all of a sudden you're making it this huge deal. You even said what I did wasn't hard."

"I just…" I wasn't even sure how to phrase the concern. "It's not the work itself, just how much of it there is around here. And maybe you can keep up now, but… Claire, I'm just… worried."

"What do you have to possibly worry about?" she snapped, glaring up at me. "Like, this has nothing to do with you."

"Do you hear yourself right now?" I struggled to maintain my frustration as I took another step closer. "I'm worried about you and the kid. That has everything to do with me."

She closed her eyes and forced a deep breath in and out. "Like I've told you before, I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You don't have to worry about me—and actually, I literally never asked you to."

"Yes, you fuckin' did." Her head snapped back to me, so I answered the question I knew would come. "When you asked me if I wanted to be involved like… what was it? Three times? Four times? I lost count."

Her bottom lip quivered but stayed tightly pressed against her top. She didn't even interrupt her glare to blink. I could tell she wanted to say something… but for once, my frustration finally had my mouth moving faster than hers.

"This is me bein' involved. If you're not gonna think about the future, somebody has to." Sharing so much in such a short time had me feeling vulnerable and fragile, but I stood my ground anyway. What else was I supposed to fucking do?

"I don't even know what you're talking about." She bent down to pick up her basket with an exaggerated huff. "Like, you're not making any sense at all." As it left her mouth, Claire strode behind me as if to end the conversation.

But I wasn't going to let it end. I abandoned my spot and followed after her.

"You know you're gonna get bigger, right?" Which was what I'd meant to say, but the way her jaw hit the grass as she snapped around meant that it was, once again, the worst possible way I could have said it. "Wait, shit."

Claire didn't flinch, let alone blink away her glare. "What did you just say to me?"

"Fuck, I just meant when you get more uh, pregnant. I—no, you know what I—"

"Sometimes I can't believe the shit that comes out of your mouth," she forced out after a breathy fake laugh, shaking her head as she turned around.

"Alright fuck, I'm sorry it came out like that, but you know what I meant. It's the truth. I'm just tryin' to think ahead, 'cuz obviously you're not."

Just a pointed scowl and an exaggerated eye roll over her shoulder was all Claire responded before continuing her path away... again.

I didn't give a fuck if she didn't want to be followed. Now that request only seemed like a bullshit excuse to avoid actually dealing with anything important. She could scream in my face, hit me, and call me every name in the book for all I cared—I followed after her anyway.

"Have you thought about the future at all, Claire?" I pressed as I caught up to her side. It was no surprise when she didn't even acknowledge my existence. "I'm bein' dead fuckin' serious, have you?"

I should've expected her to ignore me. I just didn't anticipate how much it would boil my fucking blood.

"Claire, for fuck's sake." All rational thought was out the window as I pulled the back strap of her overalls and spun her around mid-step. "You can't just get mad at me and storm off because you don't wanna deal with this."

Wickers cracked as Claire dropped the basket between us. "What do you think I've been doing? The future's all I think about! All the time! All day, all night!" The anger in her voice built with every step she took closer to me. "I'm working my ass off so I can support a family, and you keep questioning my ability to do that. Why?" She didn't even let me defend myself, let alone answer. "I need to hire help because I'm obviously so helpless that I couldn't possibly do this all by myself?"

"That's not what I mean at all! I've told you before that I know you're—"

"This is like, the one thing I'm good at, my one thing. Maybe I struggle sometimes, but I'm good at what I do, okay?" Despite how loud her voice was becoming, her breath hitched, followed by a single sniffle. "Just because you can't see that doesn't mean I'm not."

When I finally realized what was coming, I almost wished she had screamed in my face or slapped me instead.

"I invested everything I had to do this, and you just… doubting me every single time…." The force behind her voice dampened as her breaths shook. Even her body started to tremble before me. "Everyone does." She stopped to sniff and looked down to her feet. "I don't know why I thought you'd be different." After a loud shuddering inhale, she finally gave in to the tears that she'd been holding back.

And just like that, I was sweating more than I had at work. "Claire. No, that's not—"

"You keep bringing it up," her trembling voice interrupted me, "so maybe I really am as stupid as you think I am."

Claire dragged the sleeve of her hoodie across her face, wiping the fresh tears from her eyes. Standing in front of me, she looked the smallest I'd ever seen her. Her eyes glistened between the strands of hair matting to her face. Truthfully, she looked a few steps away from the state I'd found her in on the day of the fireworks festival. Somehow, I hated watching her crumble more than I did that night too. It just reminded me of being a little kid, watching my mom fall apart, and feeling so helpless and unable to do anything for her.

"Claire, what?" I brought my head back in a wince. I'd always hated crying, but watching Claire cry was a special kind of cutting pain. "Please, stop. I don't think that about you; that's not what I'm sayin' at all."

"Then just say what you actually mean!" she screamed between the tears. "Like, for once!"

"Then will you actually listen to me the first time? Please?" I added in a softer tone to offset my initial yelling. "Please, will you stop and listen for one second?"

Claire only brought her sleeves to cover her face and continued to sob. Defeated, I waved her closer so we could actually talk face to face. She surprisingly took the steps towards me, pressing her face into my chest and snaking her arms around my waist. It was the last thing I'd expected her to do, but I took a deep breath and wrapped my arms around her… because she looked like she needed the comfort. Or the brain chemicals or whatever.

At least her ear wasn't pressed against my chest. Just teary eyes and a runny nose.

I waited a few minutes for a lull in her crying that never came. So I finally tried to peel the words off my chest, which was a lot easier when Claire wasn't staring directly at me. "I saw this place before you fixed it up, and what you've done is unbelievable. I don't understand how you do what you do sometimes. I know you work hard, I can tell." I took a deep breath and continued despite every impulse to run away. "And if anything, that's the problem."

"I don't understand," she muttered into my shirt once her sobbing had slightly calmed.

"You said you've been tired and feelin' like shit lately. I can't imagine it's gonna get any easier to do your job the more… pregnant you get."

She didn't respond, but she also didn't flinch or tense, so I took it as a sign to continue.

"What're you gonna do in the spring when you physically can't do the shit you're doin' now? Or in the summer when you have a whole ass baby?"

Leaves rustled in the wind, birds chirped nearby, but they all were drowned out by the deafening silence between us. Until Claire pressed her head back into my chest and her breath hitched with a sob.

The way Claire continued to weep into my shirt left me clueless. Nothing I'd done had been comforting in the slightest. If anything, it'd gotten worse. Her body twitched and tensed against me as she cried louder than before, and we were still standing in the middle of her property where anyone could see. At the very least, I could make sure she was somewhere private and comfortable… then work from there.

"Uh… hey," I started quietly, leaning down to make sure she could hear me. "You wanna go sit down inside or somethin'?"

A minute or so passed with no response. I was about to ask again when Claire nodded as she pulled away from me. She kept her face pointed towards the ground, but I could still see her puffy eyes and flushed cheeks.

I hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder to lead her towards the farmhouse. She silently followed my direction, and when my hand returned to my side, she clamped hers onto my sleeve. Her grip seemed more for comfort than support, but I kept the thoughts to myself as we walked.

Claire released my arm almost as soon as she'd grabbed it and pushed through the unlocked door. She made a direct line to the couch, snatching the blue blanket draped across it, wrapping herself in it, and plopping down in one fluid motion... boots and all.

Again, at a loss of what the fuck to do, I wandered to the kitchen to get her a glass of water using the only plastic cup she had in her cupboard. It was one of three cups and three plates in an otherwise empty cabinet, but it didn't seem like something I should bring up at the time. I'd planned to use my time standing in front of the sink to ponder what the hell I would do next… but as usual, I had nothing.

When I returned to the living room, Claire had tucked herself against the arm and backrest, wrapped almost entirely in a blue fuzzy blanket. Her face peeked out between the covers, red, blotchy, and as tear-stained as ever, and she let out a single sniffle as she watched me approach.

"I'm sorry," Claire muttered from her corner of the couch.

I placed the plastic cup on the table in front of her. "Why are you sayin' sorry?"

"Because I'm stupid… a mess," Claire moaned into her knees between breaths. "I'm sorry… We can just…. talk when I'm done."

I couldn't help frowning at that. "I'm not gonna leave you alone like this."

But when she just kept crying, I wasn't sure if that was what she wanted me to do.

"Uh, unless… you want me to?"

She only shook her head side to side before pressing it back into her knees with a shuddering exhale.

So my only options were to keep awkwardly standing over her while she cried on the couch or attempt to comfort her…. Again. Last time Claire ended up sobbing herself dry and exhausted while I sat there staring into another dimension until she kicked me out. Now that I had somewhat of a grip on myself, I could at least try to do better.

I lowered myself on the couch next to her, just close enough for her to know I was there, far enough that we weren't actually touching.

"Listen… I, uh… I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's not… it's not you," Claire stammered, lifting her head. Bloodshot, tear-rimmed eyes turned towards me before resting the side of her face against her knees. "I'm just… being stupid. Like always."

"Stop sayin' that. 'Cuz you're not." I kept my eyes locked on her unconvinced glare until she returned her face to her knees. "I know you're… goin' through some shit. And, uh... I am too."

I paused and sighed, allowing Claire a chance to speak, but continued when she reached for the glass of water instead. "Just… sometimes I don't know how to bring shit up with you, and it comes out wrong. But I say it anyway 'cuz I wanna be on the same page, and I don't wanna fuckin' fight every time we have to figure shit out. I just want us to make this work. Together."

She slowly lifted her head to rest against the back of the couch and turned her face towards mine. "Me too." A series of sniffles followed the softly spoken words before Claire brought the sleeve of her hoodie across her nose and eyes.

I cringed thinking about the times I'd been yelled at for making use of my sleeves in the place of a tissue growing up, and before I realized it, I'd untied my neckerchief and held it out to Claire. After a few confused blinks in my direction, she hesitantly took it from my hand and wiped her nose.

"I can tell this place means a lot to you. And I want you to be able to keep doin' what you are, but I… I just worry about what that's gonna look like with, uh… movin' forward. When you're… more pregnant, or when the baby is born." She didn't give me that same sharp reaction she had earlier, so I figured "more pregnant" was the better way to phrase it. "I don't want you to have to do that all alone."

"I… Okay. Fine. Y'know what? I have no fucking clue," she admitted with a wry laugh as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. "I was just… planning on figuring it out as I go along, y'know? Crossing the bridges as I get to them?" She let out another laugh, but nothing she said was funny in the slightest. "I just kept telling myself that all I have to do is get through fall, and then winter will be fine… But I have no idea what I'm going to do in the spring… or the summer…" she brought her hands to her face and groaned. "Or after that…."

"And… uh, that's okay." I didn't know if it was actually okay, but I was willing to say anything to reassure her. "That's what I wanna help you figure out. 'Cuz… fuck. Claire, if somethin' were to happen to you or our kid, I… I don't even know what the fuck I'd do."

Claire lifted her head with a slight smile. "That's the first time you've said they're 'our' kid."

"W-what? No, it's not." It was.

"It is." She used the neckerchief to wipe her cheeks again. "And it's cute."

"It's—it wasn't like it was on purpose. I mean either. That one just slipped. I dunno."

"So, what do you want me to say?" Claire asked with a defeated sigh. "That eventually I'm going to need help?"

I shrugged. "I guess?"

"And you want to help?" she asked in disbelief.

"Dunno. Guess it feels like the right thing to do." I stopped myself and cleared my throat. "I mean, I want to. Obviously, the smithy comes first, or Gramps will have my ass on a platter. But, uh... I want you to be able to keep doin' this."

Wide blue eyes stared back at me, waiting for me to take it all back. Claire continued to inspect me like she might find a crack in my reasoning to pick apart. But surprisingly, nothing came out of those lips. Minutes must have passed, making it one of the longest times Claire had been quiet during any conversation we'd had.

"Alrighty. So I've made an executive decision." Claire rubbed her lips together a few times while waiting for the verdict to come. "I'll let you come over and help me finish getting ready for the festival this Friday. And while you're around, I'll show you how to do a few things so you can…" she squeezed her eyes shut and took the deepest breath I'd seen all day, "...help me next year. As much as it… pains me to admit it, I have a business to run, and I need to make sure I'm turning a profit."

I narrowed my eyes and waited for her to add anything else to sweeten that offer. "You say that like you're doin' me a favor."

"Well, I am, aren't I?" She raised her brow with the beginnings of a smirk. "Taking that worry off your shoulders?"

"I guess," I sighed, rolling my eyes. As much as the teasing annoyed me, at least she wasn't crying anymore.

"But thank you." Her lips relaxed into a softer, genuine smile. One that seemed to make every other feeling melt away into nothing but warmth in my chest. And when those rounded eyes stared up at me so fucking sweetly, I knew it was game over. "I still don't understand why you're being so nice to me… but I appreciate it. More than you know."

I had to swallow the lump in my throat before I could finally respond. "That's… uh, that's what friends do, right?"

"Yeah…" she trailed off, not even attempting to move her gaze away from mine. "I guess I'm not used to what that looks like between us."

"Me too..." was the only response I could muster up.

She slowly batted her lashes with that same smile, and it almost made me mad all over again. There's no way she wasn't aware of what she was doing. Or maybe it was just me?

"You're a better friend than I thought you'd be," she added before putting her feet on the floor and slowly pushing up from her seat.

And suddenly, I was convinced that it was all in my head. "Uh… thanks?"

"Ready to get back to work?" she asked as brightly as ever, throwing the blanket back on the couch. "And then I promise I'll feed you to make up for dealing with me today."

"Oh." Another invitation, another excuse to stay away from the inn. "Thanks. But, uh, you don't have to cook or—"

Her hiss of a laugh cut me off before I could finish. "Oh, I'm not cooking. I have some awesome leftovers Ann brought over yesterday!" She sported a sly grin, and I could tell a shitty joke was coming before it even left her lips. "I bet we can finish up the rest of the corn today if we spend a little bit more time working and less time talking."

"Yeah, I should be tellin' you that." I stood from my spot and shot a half-glare down at her. "You're the one that does all the talkin'."

An eye roll was the only acknowledgment she gave me before trotting past the couch to open the door. "Coming?"

Something about the attitude behind that question irked… and intrigued me. So as always, I followed after her anyway.