TW: drug use, family estrangement

Friday, 19th of Fall

When Alma started to feel her mind wake up, she fought it. She wanted to stay asleep, hibernating and unaware of the world around her. But her senses came more awake, seeing the light behind her eyelids, hearing the birds and animals outside, feeling the cool autumn air around her head above the blankets, smelling the musty wood of the cabin. Her mind followed, bringing back thoughts and emotions from the night before. Remember when you ruined that special moment? When you were put back into a traumatic headspace and literally pushed away the man who cares for you so much? Then you wept into his shirt like a baby and made it sopping wet for, what, the third time now? And now you have to face him again - but first you have to tend to all these other living things that are now depending on you. The thoughts kept piling on, making her feel heavier and heavier. She pulled the blanket over her head and moaned. Her stomach started to gurgle, and her bladder felt full.

Bisclavret stirred and stood next to the bed, putting his paws near her face. He sniffed at her ear, making her recoil and moan again. "Get down, Biz. Let me sleep." She rolled over and hugged the blankets tighter to her body. But he went around to the other side of the bed, jumped on the bed, and began pawing at the blanket she held over her face. "Okay, okay, fine." She sat up in bed and rubbed his face as he licked all over hers. "You must be hungry, huh? That why you want me to get up so bad?" He jumped off the bed and sat patiently by the door, his tail pounding the wooden floor.

Alma sighed and pulled on her overalls, getting ready for the day. She moved slowly, feeling like her entire body was about twenty pounds heavier. She opened up the front door and held her hand up to block out the morning sun. Bisclavret yipped and ran outside, going straight for his water bowl. Alma stretched and popped her back, looking over to the mailbox to see mail popping out. "I'll be there in just a minute, Biz." She went to the mailbox and pulled out two letters from Caroline, reading it as she got out her watering can and headed for Bisclavret's water bowl:

"Dear Alma,

Nothing is more satisfying than cooking with fresh vegetables from your own garden! I've enclosed a recipe to help you out. Take care.

- Caroline"

Attached was a recipe for parsnip soup. That would be helpful in the spring when parsnips would be in season again. Alma poured water in Bisclavret's dish and listened as he quickly lapped up his drink. She opened up the second letter:

"Alma -

I'd like to buy a pumpkin from you. My daughter and I want to carve a jack-o-lantern for the upcoming Spirit's Eve Festival.

- Caroline"

The Spirit's Eve Festival was coming up, wasn't it? It would be in about a week. Alma had nearly forgotten. She enjoyed that holiday, and it would be fun to see how Pelican Town celebrated. She folded up the letter, put it in her pocket, and took out her notepad: "Bring Caroline a pumpkin." It shouldn't be too hard, Alma thought; in fact, she thought she still had some pumpkins inside her food chests. She quickly stepped back inside, pulled out a pumpkin, and put it in her bag.

When Alma went back outside, she saw that her preserves jar had finished pickling some eggplant, and she knew that would make a good gift for Harvey. After she put the jar in her bag, she looked at her crops and was happy to see eggplants, wheat, and sunflowers ready to harvest. She went through the farm doing her usual work, and as she came out of the barn, she remembered that because today was Friday, the saleswoman and her cart should be near the forest to the south. Before she went to Pierre's, she headed that way.

"Good morning," Alma said to the woman.

"Hello there! Take a look at what I've got today. I know a coffee bean is exactly what you're looking for," the woman said, hoping to entice Alma that way.

Alma looked through her stock to see if there was anything for the community center. Her eye caught one thing. "Actually," she said, "I'd like to buy an orange please."

"Of course!" Alma gave her the money (much more expensive than it would probably ever be, Alma knew), and she gave Alma the orange. "Pleasure doing business with you," she said with a flick of her green hair. "I'll be back on Sunday, so be sure to drop by again!"

"Okay, thank you!" Alma called after her as she walked away. They waved to each other, and she made her way into town to see Pierre. As she approached the store, she reminded herself that Harvey would probably be in there. She felt strangely nervous about seeing him, like she would rather avoid him. But she told herself that was silly; there was no reason to be uncomfortable. She took a deep breath as she opened up the door, and as the bell dinged, she saw Harvey turn his head and smile sweetly.

"Hey, Alma!" Pierre called. "You're my number one customer!"

"Thanks, Pierre! Be there in a minute."

"Sure, yeah, go say hi to your man - but no making out in my store, all right?" he teased.

Harvey shook his head and rolled his eyes. He smiled to Alma, and her heart instantly melted. "Hey there," he said, putting his arms around her.

"Hey," she answered, a bit embarrassed.

"How are you t-today?" The way he asked was not the usual small talk but was asking intently. She knew he was asking to check since yesterday.

"I'm … okay," Alma answered, giving a little smile. Harvey could still see the shame in her eyes, though. "I mean, I'm not great, but … I'm kind of at my baseline."

"Anything I can do to, uh … help?"

"Actually," Alma said, reaching into her bag, "you can definitely incorporate this into a healthy diet." She held out the jar of pickles.

"Alma," he said with almost a nagging tone. Harvey cocked his head to the side with a smirk and a knowing look. He hesitantly took it and looked it over. "It's for me?" he quietly asked, knowing the answer.

"It's your favorite stuff."

He drummed his fingers on the glass and shook his head. "It's like you read my mind."

"You're pretty easy to read," she said with a stifled smile. He gave her a flat look, but it quickly grew into a smile. She turned and went to the counter to sell her items to Pierre. She also bought some more wheat and a few more sunflower seeds to replenish the crops. There would be enough time for one more sunflower harvest before winter. "It's hard to believe winter is already coming up so soon," she said to Pierre.

"Yeah, just about another week of fall time and then you and I will both be pretty bored, huh?"

"I'm sure I'll find some work to do," she said with a chuckle.

Harvey came up behind her to buy his groceries, and as Pierre was checking out his stuff, Harvey asked, "Would you, uh … l-like to take me up on that sushi rain check tonight? I'd … really like to see you."

"You're seeing her right now!"

"Pierre, can it!" Alma laughed, swatting at him. She turned back to Harvey. "I think I can, but I have a few more errands to run. Can I come to your place around sunset?"

"That'd be great." He gave his money to Pierre and took his bag of groceries. "I'll see you then." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek then turned to go.

After he left, Alma asked, "Is Caroline home?"

"Uh, I think so? I think she's in her sunroom."

"Thanks." She pushed the back door open and headed toward their kitchen. She knocked on the door to the sunroom, but there was no answer. "Caroline?" She opened the door, but Caroline wasn't there. She went back toward the room where they have aerobics class and peeked inside the Yoba temple. No sign of her there either. She went back toward their bedrooms and knocked on Abigail's door. "Abigail? You home?" She peeked inside, but there was no one. She tried knocking on the other bedroom door. "Caroline?" Again, she peeked her head in, and right as she did, something fell off the bookshelf directly opposite her. She was concerned that maybe she had knocked it over with all her opening and closing doors, so she went to go put it back when she realized: it was a bag of a green herb, and Alma knew it wasn't something Pierre could buy or sell over the counter.

She thought to her brother, Benji. She saw his face glazed over and his eyes red and droopy. He would half-smile when he showed up high at holidays. "You worry too much, Alma." Then she saw his face sweaty and his eyes opened wide, almost like a rabid animal, when he had moved on to cocaine. "I've got this. I'm under control. I'm not addicted, okay? You're not Mom, and I'm not your project." Then she saw him in the hospital bed after his ecstasy overdose, with a tube down his throat and bags of ice all over him. "That was a close one, eh?" he laughed, pulling up his shirt to show off the scar from the stent they put in his heart. Then she heard him yelling at her years later, "I know you all see me as some sort of prodigal son, but I don't need your forgiveness, and I don't need your cheap as fuck charity!" She could still feel how her heart jumped when he slammed the door.

"Hey! Who's in the bedroom?" Her heart jumped again as Pierre came through the doorway. His eyes looked down to the bag in her hand. "Wha … How did you find that?!" he whispered loudly.

"I'm sorry, it just fell off the - "

"Quick, give it to me!" he demanded, rushing to her. He snatched the bag from her hand and put it in his pocket. "What were you even doing in here?! Weren't you looking for Caroline?! Well, she's not here!" He looked at her pale face and took a deep breath. "Look. Promise me you won't tell anyone about this."

Alma stepped closer to him and spoke quietly but firmly. "Your wife deserves to know about this, Pierre." He stood frozen for a moment. "But it's not my place to tell her. Your secret is safe with me."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, I appreciate that."

"Is this all you're using?"

He looked offended by this. "Yes, mother, this is all I'm using."

"Listen," she spat, "my brother overdosed on ecstasy and nearly died. He started with weed, sneaking around and thinking it was harmless. Now I'm sorry to poke and pry in your personal business, but if we had known how it led to other drugs, maybe we could have stopped him from ruining his health and he would still be in my life right now." She realized she was losing control. Pierre was not Benji, and this was not her business. She took a deep breath and said calmly, "I'm sorry, Pierre, but I've come to consider you a good friend. I just want to know that you have this under control."

He wagged his head. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have said that. You're just looking out for me."

"You do need to tell Caroline. I think she'll be more understanding than you might expect. And that way she can be aware if you need help."

"Yeah, okay. Just … forget you ever saw this, okay? And I'll just forget that you were snooping around in my bedroom!" Alma nodded, and Pierre turned to leave with a huff. "Now I have to find a new hiding spot," he grumbled.

Alma was surprised that he still left her in his room, but she slowly walked out, thinking about her brother. She wondered where he was, what he was like. Did he miss her? Probably not, she thought with a sigh. She walked out and left the store, giving a little wave goodbye to Pierre.

From there, Alma went up to the community center. She took her orange and dropped it off in the artisan bundle, which completed it. She unwrapped the present from the Junimo and found a keg for brewing drinks. "Oh wow!" She thought about all the fruit she could make wine with: blackberries, cranberries, blueberries, grapes of course, maybe even salmonberries? Harvey would probably like a bottle of Paradise wine some day. She picked up the keg and squeezed it into her bag.

When she looked up, she jumped when she saw several junimo surrounding her. One junimo came in front of her, and a fog fell over the room, just like the last time she completed the office. The junimo bounced and spoke its language, and she understood what it said in her mind: "This house was empty for years. The trees moved in, and so did we." Then in a flash, the pantry was clean, stocked with fresh food, and organized in crates and on shelves.

"Junimo!" it squeaked as it bounced out of the room. Alma followed it out, but as it went toward the hut, she noticed in her peripheral vision that there was light coming from farther down the hall. She walked that way and saw the kitchen also fully restored! It was beautiful, with a table fully set with a blue tablecloth, and a full set of brand new appliances. There were cookbooks above the cabinets - also stocked with goods - and recipes posted to the wall just above some storage containers for dried goods. She ran her hand over the green granite countertop and smiled. This would be a great addition for the town. She took a deep breath and took one more look around the room as she made her way back down the hall. She passed the Junimo hut just as the little green guy carried the star and threw it onto the placard above the mantle, right next to the other star. The little junimo then happily bounced around her feet.

"So what greenhouse are you all referring to? Is this … Caroline's greenhouse? Or behind the bath house?" But, again, the junimo just bounced happily around her feet. "Well, I guess time will tell!" She waved to the little junimo as it followed her to the door.

It was still light out, so Alma decided to go to the mines before going to see Harvey. She hoped maybe she would get to the fiftieth level. She went down the elevator to level forty-five and had quite a bit of success finding stairs easily and not getting too beat up by slimes, bats, and other monsters. But just as she was in the forty-ninth level, her energy was nearly depleted. She didn't have any food on her other than the pumpkin she was saving for Caroline. So, dismayed, she decided it would have to wait until another day. She climbed up the stairs, rode the elevator to the surface, and began walking back to the clinic.

On her way, she checked the time. It was dark out, and she was concerned Harvey would be too worried about where she was. It was about eight o'clock; after dinner but not too late to be too concerned, she thought. Still, she braced herself for maybe an overly concerned doctor boyfriend as she pulled out her slingshot and flung a rock to his window. He came and waved out the window then rushed downstairs to open the clinic door for her. "I thought you had forgotten about me," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"No, of course not!" she said as she came in. "I've just had a busier afternoon than I was expecting." He closed and locked the door behind her then led her upstairs to his apartment, where she could hear his jazz music growing louder.

"Well, come relax now. You're lucky that sushi is best served cold." He opened his apartment door for her, and she gasped at what she saw. He had cleared off his table of his model plane materials and had set a romantic little table, complete with a little lamp, wine glasses, and a plate of sushi for each of them. "I've been, uh … well, worried about you today. I know yesterday was hard, and I'm sure today was too. I wanted you to just r-rest and not have to worry about dinner tonight."

"Harvey!" she cooed. "Aren't you a sweetheart!" She turned his head to her and kissed him.

"Please, let - let me take your bag. You're welcome to kick off your boots if you'd like, too." She pulled off her backpack, which he took to the couch, and she propped herself on the wall by the door to pull off her boots. As she walked closer to the table, he pulled out a seat for her. She sat down, and he helped to scoot her in before sitting across the table from her.

She noticed there was a small piece of wild horseradish on her plate, along with a serving of the pickled eggplant. "Is this my - ?"

"I don't have pickled ginger," he said, putting his napkin in his lap. "but I figured this would, uh … do just as well."

She held her hand out to him, which he held gently. "Thank you, Harvey." He just smiled as he stroked her hand. "Well, I have to propose a toast," she said, holding up her wine glass. He smiled and held his up too. "To the most caring man I've known. And to us, with our awkwardness, our burdens, our fears, our shame, and our pasts. May we enjoy our present and live a happier and more loving future."

"Hear hear!" They clinked their glasses and each took a sip. He watched her intently as she took her first bite. She closed her eyes and sat back in her seat while she chewed. "Is it - Is it good?"

"It's delicious! I'm very impressed! Have you made sushi before?"

"I have, yes, but it's been a while." He picked up a bite with his fork and said, "So tell me about this busier-than-expected afternoon," before putting it in his mouth.

She automatically pictured Pierre storming toward her but knew that would stay out of the conversation. "Well," Alma started, "for one thing, I finished another room in the community center!"

"You did?!"

"So now there's a complete kitchen with a pantry full of stuff!"

"Wow! So anyone can use it?"

"I assume so! I guess you could too, to try more cooking on a stove top!"

"Maybe so," he said, taking a sip of his wine. "And what is the, uh, Junimo's side of the deal on this one?"

"A greenhouse, apparently. Though I'm not sure what greenhouse it's referring to. I figure I'll know soon enough." She put a bite of pickled eggplant. "This is good too! It does work well."

"Thank you, but you have yourself to thank for that," he said, wiping his mouth. "Maybe the greenhouse will be on your farm?"

Alma hadn't thought of this. She remembered the mysterious broken down structure on the property. It could very well have been a greenhouse at some point. She stuck her tongue in her cheek and shook her head. "Dr. Harvey, how'd you get to be so smart?" He chuckled and shrugged. "Maybe it's the mustache. It has magic powers."

"I just can't think of any greenhouse in town, and it m-makes sense that maybe they would want to do something for you too. But you're right, I guess we won't know for sure until it happens."

"You're avoiding my comment about your mustache."

"Well that's because I don't want you to know my secret."

"Of your magic mustache?"

"That's right. Welwick hasn't told you about it?"

"Stop," she laughed. She looked up at his furry lip as he ate another bite of sushi. "Honestly, though, you're one of the few men who make a mustache look good."

"Well, thank you."

"How long have you had it?"

"Oh," he thought, wiping his mouth with his napkin, "about five years now? It was right before I moved here. I was turning thirty, moving to a new town, opening my own practice, and I thought maybe it was time for a, uh … more mature look."

She held out her finger in front of her to cover up his mustache in her line of sight and thought, yes, it made him look quite a bit older. "Have you ever thought of changing your look up a bit?"

"I tried a goatee during my residency, then I'd let it grow into a beard in the winters."

"Oh yeah?" Then she held up her thumb and index finger to cover his jaw in front of her, trying to imagine him with a full beard.

"I thought I looked a little too unkempt with the beard, and the goatee just felt like I was trying too hard."

"So why stick with the mustache?"

He shrugged. "I think it's just … what looks most like me. And apparently it gives me magic powers, so now I can never get rid of it. Like Samson."

"Wait, would that make me Delilah?"

"I guess so," he answered, then he held up his fork at her, "but don't get any ideas!"

"Don't worry," she chuckled. "I've gotten too used to it now. Shaving it would be weird."

"What about you?" he asked. "Have you always, uh … had short hair like that?"

"Oh, no," she answered quickly. "Most of my life, I've kept my hair long. And I'd never colored it before now. No, I think most people who have known me before wouldn't hardly recognize me now." She put a tiny bit of horseradish on her roll before she put it in her mouth.

"I'm guessing you cut it as part of burning your bridges?"

"Exactly," she answered, her mouth still full. She took a moment to chew then continued, "It felt like extra weight I could easily shed. And I always thought purple would look good on me though I was never brave enough to try it out. Chopping it off and dying it was like my final coup de grace, putting away my old self and starting fresh and new."

"I'm sure that took a lot of getting used to," he said as he sipped his wine. "It was hard enough for me to get used to a little extra hair on my lip, so I can't imagine what it must have felt like to have several inches gone from your head."

"It did take a while, yeah. I can't tell you how many times I tried to pull my hair up while I was first clearing out the underbrush on the farm," she laughed.

"Well," Harvey said, "I like it - for what little that's worth. I think it suits you."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, it's fun, fresh, and energetic but classy too - understated and subtle."

"Really?" she asked, putting down her fork. "You think that's an apt description for me too? Fun, classy, and subtle?"

"Well," he chuckled, bobbing his head back and forth, "I guess you're not so subtle. I mean, anyone who's met you knows they've met you. But you're, uh … more than what meets the eye, that's what I mean."

Alma nodded, understanding and somewhat agreeing too. She was happy with that assessment. "I think your mustache says a lot about you."

"I'm scared to ask how."

"Well, first, it's very masculine. It's kind of a power move, right? I mean, mustaches aren't very mainstream, so you know it will draw some attention, and you're okay with that."

Harvey tilted his head, not so sure how he felt about that. "If you say so," he said, popping another bite of sushi in his mouth.

"But it also shows your attention to detail, your patience, and care. A mustache isn't accidental, right? It doesn't just grow on your face like that. A beard just comes from negligence, but a mustache comes from intentional trimming of everything else. How often do you shave, every day?"

"Every morning."

"Every morning! You care about how you look - not necessarily because you want the attention but because you want to appear put together. Right?"

Harvey nodded slowly. "Yeah, that - that sounds about right. I hadn't thought of it that way."

"And you mentioned that you started to wear one because you thought it looked more mature. I think it gives that vibe too, and that fits you well. You are mature and very professional, and I think you care about people thinking of you in that way. You don't want them to see your anxiety and your fears." Harvey nodded thoughtfully, as if he hadn't actively thought of that but knew it was true. "You keep your hair a little long, though, which makes you look young and footloose. It's styled but not too proper. So, like you said about me, there's that mix of fun and professional at the same time, which - let's face it - is very hot."

His eyes perked up a little. "Y-You think so?"

"Oh, for sure! Has no girl told you your mustache is hot before?"

Harvey laughed with a little shrug, standing up to take their plates. "I mean, I've had the comment of something like, 'I've always wondered what it'd be like to kiss a man with a mustache.' But never just outright that it was a-attractive. And that was when I had something around my chin too."

"Well, again," she said, standing up and following him to the kitchen, "you're one of the only men I've seen who can pull it off well." Harvey put their dishes in the sink, and she came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. "I don't just tell every man who has a mustache that he's hot, so you'd better listen."

He turned around and put his arms around her waist. "I'm listening."

She brought her hand to feel his mustache, and he lifted his lips to kiss her fingers. She put her other hand in his hair, pulling up on it slightly and watching it curl as it came back down. He pulled her in a little tighter, and she held his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his. "It definitely has magic powers," she said, feeling her lips on the bristly hairs. He gave her another quick kiss, then they tightened their embrace and enjoyed a deeper, longer kiss.