Saturday, 27th of Summer

Alma stood over the stove. She knew she needed to cook something eventually, and she saw last night when she took the maki roll to the community center that a fried egg was also part of the chef's bundle. It was the first time she had ever used a gas stove, and she was nervous about what might happen. She envisioned the fire getting high or the gas line causing an explosion. "Okay, Alma, you can do this. You're a grown woman. You can make a fried egg." She nervously turned the knob for the burner and heard the clicking but nothing catching. She reached behind the stove and found the gas valve, but she wasn't sure how much she should turn it. She turned it halfway then tried the burner again. After a few clicks, there was a pop and a big woosh that made her shriek. She placed her hand on her chest and exhaled. "It's all right. It just did what it's supposed to do, silly." Alma got a pan and poured in a little of the oil she bought from Pierre. Then she cracked an egg into the pan and heard the familiar sizzle. "I'm doing it!" she quietly exclaimed. She could see the edges starting to curl and turn brown though the yolk was still goopy. She panicked a bit, turned off the heat, covered the pan, and took it onto another burner. She looked over the egg nervously and watched the lid fog up. When she lifted the lid and let the steam escape, she saw the yolk was now opaque. "I did it!" she cheered. She happily got a container, put the egg inside, and slid it into her bag to take to the community center later.

Alma stepped outside and greeted the day with a big stretch. Bisclavret ran up the stairs to meet her, and she crouched down to rub his head and belly. She looked over and saw a letter in her mailbox, but when she went and pulled it out, it was unmarked. She opened it up quickly.

"Alma,

It seems like you're starting to get close with some of the townspeople. If you want to show someone that you're romantically interested, you've got to give them one of my beautiful flower bouquets. I'm selling them now, for a very fair price. If you want to start a family someday, this is the first step.

- Pierre"

She put down the letter and looked over the farm aimlessly. It wasn't surprising that someone like Pierre might take notice of her and Harvey together a lot, and she was sure that especially seeing them in the saloon, people talked. But was she really ready to commit to a relationship? She looked back over some of the phrases: "starting to get close" … "romantically interested" … "start a family someday" …. These each made her breath catch and her heart beat faster. She folded up the letter quickly, remembering that she still had work to do.

She harvested peppers and hops. "I mean, you want this, right?" She got her watering can and watered the remaining crops. "You've been flirting with him almost constantly, and you already told him you liked him." Bisclavret sat patiently by his bowl, and when she filled it up, he began lapping it up happily. "Maybe I've been flirting too much."

She went next to the cave and picked the mushrooms. "I shouldn't have been so obvious - but I was just acting on how I feel and … maybe not thinking too clearly." She stood there in the dark of the cave for a moment. "Do I really want to be with him? Do I really want to be vulnerable to someone like that again? Or do I just like the idea of having someone to care for me? Have I really considered what it might be like if he hurt me? I would - I'd have to leave again, wouldn't I?" She looked outside into the sunshine. She could hear the chickens clucking and saw Jemima jump into the water of the pond. "Harvey's not like Eric. Not like the others either. He's gentle and sensitive to people's needs."

She came out of the cave and went to the coop, taking a moment to pet Henriette, Little Red, and Jemima. "Of course, that's what you thought about Eric too. He was sensitive, charming, and kind. He didn't intentionally hurt you; it was a problem he had. The others were immature and not thinking outside of themselves." She went inside the coop and saw both mayonnaise machines were finished. She opened the lids of the machines and found the containers of mayonnaise full. She put the lids on the jars and put them in her bag with her other supplies then turned her attention to gathering the eggs. "So what will happen when I learn about Harvey's flaws? What problems does he have, and how bad are they? I won't really know until we're in too deep." She dropped the eggs into the mayonnaise machines, turned them on, and went back outside to go toward the barn.

"But, of course, any relationship I'd be in would have that same problem. I mean, he's probably wondering about what kind of baggage I'm carrying too! What if I'm the one who causes problems in the relationship?" She stopped by Io's side as she grazed in the field and patted her back. "Maybe that's been the problem the whole time. Maybe it's me." She pulled out her milk pail and started pulling at Io's teats. "Harvey seems to really like me, though. Maybe … Maybe he'd handle me better than other men have in the past." She stopped and shook her head. "No, Alma, that's ridiculous. The problems in past relationships were not your fault … other than the fact you put up with them. But maybe that's the issue now: I always just want someone to love me, so then I overlook the red flags so I can feel at least somewhat loved - to the point where it becomes toxic and skewed." She looked down into the pail and saw there was more milk than there had ever been before. "Wow, Io! Good job!" She poured it into a large jug and put it in her bag.

She went and found Lottie grazing closeby, and she hugged her neck before milking her too. "So what red flags are there about Harvey now? You know he's anxious. But that's not necessarily a problem you can't handle. You've struggled with anxiety in the past too. Maybe it's something he can overcome. And even if not, that's not a big issue, right? It's not necessarily something that could cause you pain. It would be more of a hurdle for him that you could help him with." Soon, the milk pail was full too, and she patted Lottie's side as she stood up. "He's pretty devoted to his work, so maybe he has difficulty finding a work-life balance."

She looked around for Poppy and didn't see her. "But I don't know," she said as she went into the barn, "he seems to already have a pretty good handle on that now. He takes breaks and rests when he can." The cheese press was also finished, and she pulled out a nice, aromatic piece of cheese. "Come to think of it, there's not a whole lot more you know about him." She took Lottie's fresh milk, poured it into the cheese cloth that lined the press, and spring-loaded the machine. "Both his parents have passed away, he grew up in a small town, his father was a chronic smoker, his grandfather was a jazz musician ... That's about it."

Poppy was lying in the hay taking a little nap, and she came to give her a little hug. "In fact, that's the point of dating, right? You get to know each other before you really commit to something like marriage." She sat on the floor next to Poppy and rubbed her ears. They were so soft. "Asking him to be my boyfriend is not a big commitment, right? If I see problems, I can get out without too many hurt feelings. And we can just focus on getting to enjoy our time together and getting to know each other." Poppy lifted her head and pushed her head into Alma's hand. "You think I should just do it, little one?" Poppy put her head back down in the hay, and Alma chuckled as she stood. "Sorry, you're trying to take a little nap. I'll let you get back to it."

She went out of the barn and slowly wandered back to the cabin. She put the things she didn't need back in the chests and kept things to sell and give to the community center in her bag. She looked toward the road into town and took a deep breath. Then she sat on the stairs, putting her bag next to her. "It's just to get to know him as a partner. It's not making him my partner. I can get out. He can too. It would give us the freedom to … to love each other honestly and openly." Bisclavret came and sat next to Alma, putting his head in her lap. "Biz, if I don't do this, I would regret it … right?" He looked up at her with his sweet puppy dog eyes. "I've had too many regrets in my life. They've kept me up at night for years. But those are finally starting to go away. This is not the place for regrets anymore." He licked her hand, wanting her to pet him. She laughed and scrubbed his head.

Then Alma got to thinking about Bisclavret. She looked at his face content in her lap. He was a stray who appeared on her farm. She could have chosen to leave him alone, but instead she took him in. She could choose to let him hunt for his own food, but instead she cares for him with food, water, a safe space, and affection. When he wants her to pet him, he can always turn around and bite her. But he doesn't. And she pets him and loves his company. He was the first companion of hers on the farm. He trusts her, and she trusts him. She scrubbed his head again and said, "I'm going to do it, Biz. I'm ready." She kissed him on the top of the head before she stood up, threw on her bag, and went into town to Pierre's shop.

"Hi Alma!" he greeted as she came in.

"Hi, Pierre. How's business today?"

"Eh, business is always a bit slower on the weekends. But realistically, business has been slow since Joja moved into town. It's hard to compete with their selection," he said with a shrug.

"Well, I've got some new stuff for you to sell today." She took out the peppers, hops, mushrooms - and mayonnaise.

"Oooh! Yes, this will sell well. Thank you!" He began to look through her other produce and add up the total for how much he owed her.

Alma looked up and saw the bouquets on display to the left of the counter. "Um … Pierre," she started.

"Yes?" he asked, opening up his drawer and counting out her money.

"I, uh … I got your letter. Is the bouquet part of a Stardew tradition or something?"

Pierre looked up and smiled. "Yep. It's how you show someone you have romantic interest and ask if they'd like to get more serious."

"More serious as in …?"

He shrugged with a cheeky grin. "Being more than friends? If you're wanting marriage, you have to go see the old mariner for that."

"Oh no no no, not marriage."

"Uh huh. If you say so. I see the way you and Dr. Harvey make googly eyes at each other, and I know he specifically buys your produce when he's shopping in here on Fridays." He walked over to the bouquets and pulled one out. "I'll just subtract two hundred gold from your total, all right?" Alma didn't say anything but took the bouquet and carefully put it in her bag as she felt her face get hot. Pierre gave her the money and said, "He'll know exactly what it means, and he'll accept it eagerly, I know."

She put the money in her bag and smiled at him. "Thanks."

"You'll be good for him," he added with a wink. She waved and turned to leave.

Alma stood outside the store for a moment and looked at the clinic. She felt her heart begin to pound, and she panicked and walked away. She found herself by the community center and checked the time. It was about noon. She still had time. There was no hurry, she reminded herself. She went inside the community center and took the cheese to the artisan bundle, the fried egg to the chef's bundle, and the large milk to the animal bundle. Then she made the quick decision to go to the mines to work off some nervous energy.

When the elevator opened at the thirtieth level, Alma remembered it was just a small cavern with a ladder going down. But when she went to the next level, it was different. Up to this point, the caves had all been dirt-covered, maybe even a little muddy. But this was darker, with less light and a more gray-colored soil. She was thankful for her glow ring that allowed her to see around her without needing to hold a light. The air felt colder and smelled more like water than clay. For a moment, she felt some fear, but then she pulled out her pickaxe and started chipping away without thinking too much about it.

Alma found the ladder fairly quickly with no monster encounters, and she thought maybe the spirits were happy today - which also made her hopeful for meeting Harvey later. She jumped down the ladder quickly, not wanting to think about that.

As she mined away at rocks, she could hear beating wings coming toward her - but it wasn't a cave fly. It was a bat! She swung her sword around her head, and after a couple of swings (and some scratches to her face), the bat fell to the ground. She looked at its body on the ground and remembered that ten bat wings were part of the adventurer's bundle, so she put the bat in her bag. She went back to mining, and she soon found the ladder to the next level.

Here too, Alma quickly started breaking down the rocks, but as she did, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. A pile of rocks seemed to build themselves into a man made of stone! She screamed and swung her sword wildly, only pushing him back a few feet at a time with each hit. She could see the way he reacted to attacks was similar to slimes, and she had enough experience now to know that the best way to fight a slime was to corner it. So as she knocked the stone monster back, she would step forward, and eventually, she had him up against the wall, where she laid into him with her sword. Soon, he crumbled back down to the ground. After she calmed her breath, she went back to mining and found the ladder to the next level.

Here, amazingly, she found the ladder already open just a few steps in front of her, so she ran toward it and dropped down quickly. This was now the thirty-fourth level; if she could make it to the next level, she would call it a night and head back to the surface. She mined rock after rock and had more encounters with bats and stone monsters, but eventually, there it was. She dropped down to the thirty-fifth level and heard the elevator ding. She took a sharp breath, feeling like what was on the surface may actually be more scary than what was in the caves. Still, she boarded the elevator and rode it to the surface. Alma put her sword and snacks she foraged in the chest and took out the bouquet and other things she needed to bring back into town.

When she stepped out of the cave, she saw the sun was starting to set. She checked the time: it was now about six o'clock. Harvey should be back home from the library, and he would probably be up in his apartment, with the clinic door locked. She wondered if she should just wait until tomorrow. "No," she told herself, "you're doing this tonight." She went to the clinic and pulled on the door, but, as she expected, it was locked. She tried knocking, but there was no answer. Alma stood and thought for a moment, then she looked up and saw the lights on in his apartment. She pulled her bag off one shoulder and reached in for a small rock. She threw it up at his window above the clinic, where she could hear it tink against the glass. She waited to see if there was any movement, but she couldn't see any. She tried throwing one more rock, but still, after a moment, there was no sign of movement. Maybe he had his TV or jazz music on and couldn't hear the sound. She sighed and decided to go home.

Then, as she walked away, she could hear a sound from behind her. "Alma!" She turned and saw Harvey leaning out of his window. "Everything okay?"

Her heart started pounding, and she drew in a quick breath. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just wondered if I … could come up?"

"Oh! Sure! Yes, l-let me unlock the door for you." He closed the window, and she went back to wait at the door. In a few moments, she could hear footsteps inside and the sound of the lock moving. He opened the door and smiled, but then his smile quickly changed. "Are you okay?"

"Uh … yes?" she said as she walked in the clinic. "Why? What's wrong?"

He closed and locked the door back behind them. "You have some … lacerations on your face." He looked closely at her face, and she raised her hand to her cheek and felt dried blood. "Here, come with me for a minute." He led her back to the exam room, where Alma sat on the exam couch and watched as he took off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, and washed his hands. "How did that happen to you? What scratched you?"

"Uh … bats?"

He turned around with a shocked look on his face. "Did you say bats?!"

"Um, yes. I told you before that there were three sections of the mines, right? I think I started the second one today. It was my first time encountering bats."

Harvey's eyes moved back and forth as he dried his hands, the wheels turning in his head. "Have you had a rabies vaccine before?"

She hadn't considered the possibility of rabies. "Uh … I don't think so."

"And I guess there's no way of testing the animal," he said, almost to himself.

"Actually," she said, reaching for her bag. She pulled out the bat she killed.

"Oh, thank Yoba," he said, putting his hand to his chest. "I can extract the brain and send it off to the lab. We should know in the next few days if it was positive for rabies or not." He put on two layers of gloves and placed the bat on a surgical tray. "You stay here. I'm just going to store this so I can take care of it in the morning." He started to carry the tray out and said over his shoulder, "You might wash your hands and face while I'm gone - and make sure you really rinse the cuts and use soap."

He stepped out, and Alma went to the sink. She washed her hands thoroughly first, then washed her face. She took off her hat and splashed the water into her hair a bit too. It felt good to get at least a little clean. Harvey came back in, threw away his gloves, and stood next to her to wash his hands again too. He handed a paper towel to her, and she dried off her face. She sat back on the bed and brushed her hair with her fingers. After he dried his hands, Harvey reached into the cabinet and pulled out some supplies. He came back and looked at her cheek again. "May I?" he asked, reaching for her face.

"Sure," she answered nervously, and he felt gently around her face. She looked at him as he examined the scratches. He looked concerned, and he was focused on the cuts and not on her. He was wearing his white button-up shirt with his tie loosened, and directly in front of her eyes was the knot. She could see his larynx just above it, which moved up and down as he swallowed. She flinched a bit as he carefully pulled the skin apart from the bigger cut on her cheek.

"Sorry," he said, "I'm just trying to see how deep this one is." He continued to feel around her face at some of the smaller cuts, then he turned to get the things he'd brought from the cabinet.

"Is it bad?" Alma asked.

"No, even the deepest one is minor. But still, it'd be good to prevent infection." Harvey held up a wipe and said, "Sorry, this might sting a little." He wiped the cuts with an alcohol wipe, and she winced at the sting. "Sorry," he said again. Then he got a tube of cream and applied some to different cuts on her face. "This is triple antibiotic cream to help stop infection." He pulled open a package with a sheet of steristrip bandages inside. He peeled off the adhesive, pushed the skin of the deepest cut together, and applied the bandage. He stepped back and looked at her. "I don't think the others need bandaging, but why don't you take this with you?" he said, giving her the small bottle of cream. "Try to keep your face clean, and put this on the smaller cuts twice a day. The bandage will come off in a few days. If it hurts or starts turning red and hot, come see me right away."

"All right, thanks."

As he started to clean up, he said, "Let's hope the rabies test comes back negative because treatment for rabies is not fun - especially since you have the wounds on your face."

Alma took a deep breath and stood up from the bed. "Well, this is not how I expected this visit to go."

"Yes, sorry," he said with a chuckle, "let me sanitize in here, and then I can stop being a doctor." He tore off the paper covering from the bed, threw it in the trash, wiped down the sink area, and washed his hands one more time. Then he turned and smiled at her. "You, uh … wanted to come upstairs?"

"If that's all right," she said, pulling her bag tight on her shoulders again.

"Of course, come on." He held the exam room door open for her and asked, "Have you eaten yet?"

"No, but I'm all right."

"Are you sure?" he asked, holding open the door to the stairs, "because I-I happen to have the ingredients for spaghetti, thanks to flour from Pierre's and a few fresh tomatoes from Paradise." She smiled. "I have enough for both of us, if you want some."

"Well … all right," she said, walking up the stairs behind him. She could hear his jazz music grow increasingly louder as they went upstairs.

"Great," he said with a smile. "You just … make yourself at home. It will be done really quickly." Harvey rushed into the kitchen area and started preparing the food. Alma put her bag down by the door and slowly made her way around his apartment. "I have about half a bottle of wine, i-if you'd like a glass while you wait."

"Oh, sure, that'd be great," she answered. He smiled and nodded then turned to get drinks ready.

Alma passed the table with Harvey's model planes in progress and looked them over: pieces of the plane, small bottles of paint, wood glue, strips of balsa wood, a reference photo …. There was a book on the corner of the table, and Alma turned her head to read the title: Ground-to-Air Radio Protocol. "Learnin' the Blues" with Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong started to play, and Harvey brought her wine glass to her. She thanked him, and he lifted his glass to touch hers. They both took a sip, and he smiled a little before going back to the kitchen. She moved on to look at some of the posters he had on the far wall. One was a comparison between fighter planes of the Ferngill Republic and the Gotoro Empire. She looked down at the desk and saw a complicated radio broadcasting set. "Is this … a ham radio?"

He looked over and nodded. "An amateur radio, yes."

"Who do you talk to?"

"Well," he chuckled, "I try to make contact with some of the pilots flying overhead, but I, uh, haven't had any luck. Maybe someday."

She moved on and saw Harvey's model airplane collection for display on the shelves next to his bookcase. "Do these planes fly, or are they just for looking at?"

"No, making a plane to actually fly is a bit more advanced than, uh … my skills are good for. But that is a goal of mine. I'd love to make an RC plane that could fly."

"It'll happen," she said with a smile. She took another look at his bookshelf. The Zuzu General Hospital Handbook of Internal Medicine, An Illustrated Dictionary of Aviation, Procedures for Primary Care, Visions of Jazz, SOAP Notes: The Down and Dirty on Squeaky Clean Documentation, The History of the Ancient World, Unwinding Anxiety, Alchemy of Herbs, The Art of Thinking Clearly …. She looked over and watched him work in the kitchen for a moment. She could tell he was nervous. She looked back at her bag and thought about the bouquet inside. When would be the best time to let him know? She wasn't sure. She moved into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. "Anything I can help with?"

He glanced at her quickly. "No no, y-you go rest and relax. Maybe you could go sit on the couch and enjoy your wine." She made her way over to the red couches. "Feel free to turn on the TV if you want. I'm able to pick up the reception to the history channel here."

"Oh yeah?" Alma picked up the remote and muted it so she could still hear Billie Holiday sing "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man," but she watched the history documentary that was on. "There it is! Lucky you!"

"Well, I don't get Welwick's Oracle from here, so according to what you've told me, you're literally more lucky than I am in that regard."

"Even if you had it, you know you wouldn't watch it," she joked.

"Yeah, probably. History's most of what I watch," Harvey said, "though I've been watching The Queen of Sauce more often now. That - That's how I learned this recipe, actually." Alma heard the microwave ding, and she just then realized that he was microwaving the spaghetti and not cooking it over a stove. She looked quickly over her shoulder and remembered that he didn't actually have a stove. He brought over her plate, and she sat up to hold it on her lap. "I'm sorry I-I don't have a better eating space."

"No, it's okay," she said, placing her wine glass on the end table next to her. She took her plate, and he went back to get his plate and wine. He sat on the other couch and set his wine glass next to hers on the end table.

"Hopefully this spaghetti won't ruin your love of Italian food twice," he joked nervously. He lifted his wine glass to her and said, "To … unexpected dinner dates - oh, uh, I mean, not a date but - "

"I know what you mean," she answered with a chuckle, lifting her glass to tap his. "To unexpected dinner dates - and reclaiming Italian food."

"Yes, I hope!" They both drank, and she spun her fork in the spaghetti noodles to get her first bite. Harvey watched her nervously as he got his bite too. She lifted it up to her lips and smiled when she took the bite. "It's good, Harvey!"

"Oh, good," he sighed. "I'm giving credit to your tomatoes - not my skill."

"Let's say it's both," she answered with a smile. "And you made this in the microwave?!"

"I did!"

"That's amazing! Thank you again."

"Of course. It's my honor."

They took a few bites in silence, and after Alma took another sip of wine, she said, "You know, Harvey, it occurred to me today that I don't know too much about you. How about you tell me more about … your family, for example? You told me about your grandfather, and that both your parents have passed away, but that's about it. Do you have brothers or sisters?"

"No," he said, covering his mouth. "I was what we in the medical profession call 'an oops baby.'"

"Really?!" she laughed.

"Yes, my mother was told she would never have children, but then at forty years old, she found herself pregnant with me."

"Wow. What was her condition, if you don't mind me asking?"

He swallowed his bite and said, "Not at all; she had PCOS. Realistically, the doctors should never have said 'never.' PCOS makes conception very difficult - especially naturally - but not impossible."

"What did they do?! I mean, they must have had quite established lives if they expected to never have children. What did your mother do for a living?"

"She was a seamstress. She did tailoring, sewing, and even upholstery. Before I came along, she worked from the back of a dry cleaners, but after I was born, she moved her business to work from home. So in the scheme of things, it was a pretty nice transition - nicer than if she had been in some other professions, anyway. And because we lived in a small town, people knew her work and were happy to go to her home instead of the dry cleaners. So she didn't have to worry about losing her customer base or rebuilding a new one; it all worked out."

"That is good," Alma said, taking another bite.

"My mother actually made my lab coat," he said, nodding to the green coat he'd draped over the seat at his table.

"Really? Your green one?"

"The very one," he said with a nod. "I still have my coat from the white coat ceremony at the beginning of med school, but she wanted to make me this special one when I started my own practice here. My favorite color is green, and she made it specially tailored to fit me. It was actually the last piece of sewing work she ever did for me."

"Wow. That's really special."

"It is." He went to get it and brought it for her to look at.

"Oh, I don't want to risk getting it dirty!"

"No, it's okay; she made it from a material that's water resistant but also totally washable. So it's hard to get dirty, but when it does get dirty, I can clean it easily." He handed it to her and sat back down to take a sip of his wine.

Alma looked over the coat and saw a patch just inside the breast that read,

"To my Harvey

Made with love

From your mother

2009"

Alma felt her fingers over the embroidered stitching. "I guess after she made that for you, she was too old to be able to sew much more?"

"She actually wasn't too old, but she had pretty severe arthritis in her hands. In reality, she probably shouldn't have even made that coat for me. I'm sure it was painful and difficult. But it was something she had her heart set on, so there was no stopping her."

Alma carefully folded the coat and placed it next to her on the couch. "When did she pass away? You said it was a few years ago?"

"Two years ago, yes. She was always susceptible to upper respiratory diseases since she had RSV as a little girl. This time, she caught the flu, which turned into pneumonia, which eventually caused organ failure because of limited oxygen and a sudden drop in blood pressure."

"I'm sorry. That must have been hard for you." She took the last sip of her wine and placed the glass on the table. "So … do you have any family now?"

"Not really," he said, wiping his mouth. "I have some uncles, aunts, and cousins, but we're not terribly close. I'm mostly … by myself." He looked at the empty plate on her lap. "Did you, uh … get enough?"

"Yes, thank you so much. It was delicious."

He stood and reached for her dishes, and she stood too to give it to him. "No, please, sit," he said as he passed her to go to the kitchen.

"Well, you cooked, so how about I do the dishes?"

"Are you joking?" he laughed. "No, Alma, just sit and relax."

"Well …" she took a breath and looked at her bag, deciding now might be a good time, "I … actually have something I wanted to give you."

She walked toward her bag, and he spoke over the sound of the running water, "I told you last night at the saloon," he chuckled, "I'm not accepting any more of your - your bribes! I want to buy your produce from Pierre to help both of you out. It - It helps me feel like I'm investing more in the community." Alma took out the bouquet and walked toward him. He put their dishes in the sink and started to scrub them, throwing in some of the other dishes he used for cooking. "I know you said giving gifts is a good way to win friends and make connections in town, but you don't need to feel like you have to do that with me. You've already made a … well, a r-rather large impact on me, so you don't need to win over my, uh … my affection." Alma stood there just outside the kitchen space, holding the bouquet and waiting for him to turn and look, but he was too focused on doing the dishes to notice. "So whatever fruit, vegetable, or flower you have for me is appreciated but not necessary, and I'd just really rather if you would sell it to Pierre inst - " Harvey finally noticed she was standing there, and when he glanced up and saw the colorful bouquet in her hands, he froze.

She chuckled a little and said, "Oh, you - you want me to sell this back to Pierre?"

Harvey fumbled as he quickly turned off the water and looked around him for a towel to wipe his hands. He dried his hands and said, "Alma, a-are you … are you sure you're ready? I - I've been a bit - well, a bit concerned about the way we've been … acting around each other for the past t-two weeks or so. I've been putting my feelings first and … not remembering the agreement we made for you to make the first steps. Maybe some of the things I - I said made you feel like - like you needed to - to - "

"I have thought about this, Harvey," she said, coming closer to him. She leaned against the kitchen counter and looked into the bouquet. "Nothing you have said or done in the past few weeks has influenced my decision. I think … we both are overthinking the significance of this bouquet. I've realized that it doesn't mean we're getting married. It doesn't mean I have to be perfect for you. It doesn't mean you won't have faults or won't hurt me. It means … we enjoy each other's company in a special way. I think you and I are both hurting, and we both see value in each other that we don't see ourselves." She held the bouquet out to him and said, "I want to help you see yourself the way I see you, as the devoted, caring, genuine, hardworking, intelligent, and compassionate man you are. And … I think … you have already helped me find more value in myself too. But - " She looked up at him and tried to backtrack, "I don't want this to feel like I'm another patient - a job or a project."

"No, of course not," he said, a bit breathless.

"To me, it would be a privilege to get to know you more and … maybe … be loved by you." Alma started to feel unexpected tears come to her eyes, and she looked away from him. "You're different, Harvey. I came here to find different, but I did not expect to find someone like you." She felt her lip begin to quiver, and she held the bouquet out again, scared that if she said anything more, she would lose control and start weeping. She looked down and closed her eyelids tight, embarrassed.

Harvey stepped toward her and put his hands around hers. "I'll accept this," he said, taking the bouquet but quickly placing it on the counter to draw her in for a hug. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Thank you for … for trusting me." Alma took deep breaths and tried to stop the tears, but they started flowing freely. "You're right that this doesn't mean we'll be p-perfect or that we won't hurt each other. I know you've been … so badly hurt before. But I promise you … that stops now. I want to care for you and build you up, and I - I will do my best to do that." She felt a lot of tension leave her, and she deflated into his arms. It felt so good to be held by someone again. He stroked her back and rested his head on hers. She breathed deep and could smell his aftershave. She clutched his shirt a little tighter and nuzzled him, feeling like she could now totally relax. He pulled her back a bit and wiped her face, being careful of the cuts they treated. "When you say you did not expect to find me, I … well, I didn't know you felt the same."

She looked up at him and wiped her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I had honestly given up on finding someone. I'm one of the oldest bachelors here, and no one really seemed, um … compatible with me. And after several years of being around the same people, I just resigned myself to the life of a bachelor. But when I first met you, the word I would use is … refreshing. You brought new life to this town and t-to my own life. You were a total surprise, and you were …" He looked at her face and smiled. "Amazing. You're amazing, Alma."

She smiled and took a deep breath. Then she looked at Harvey's shirt and moaned. "This is now the second time I have tear-stained your shirt."

"And the second time I'll wear it as a badge of honor." Nat King Cole started singing "Tis Autumn," and Harvey listened for a moment. "You know," he said, thinking still, "I - I still owe you a, uh … a dance." He looked down at her and smiled, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, I'm - I don't think I - "

He took her hand and led her to the living room in front of the radio. He took a quick second to turn it up and said, "I'm not good enough either. But l-let me take the lead now, okay? You don't need to worry about it. It's just us." He put one of her hands over his shoulder and held the other on his chest. He wrapped his other hand around her waist and slowly started moving side to side to the music. Alma closed her eyes and laid her head on his chest, listening to the sweet voice of Nat King Cole. It was autumn after tomorrow, and she let out a long sigh, enjoying the moment.

"This is much better than the Flower Dance," she said.

Harvey laughed and said, "Infinitely better."

They listened to the music more as they moved slowly around the space: "My holding you close really is no crime … as the birds, the trees, and old Father Time."

The song soon came to an end, and they stopped their movement. Alma took a deep breath and stepped away. "Well," she said, "like I said earlier, this visit did not start at all like how I'd hoped, but … it ended pretty nicely." Harvey chuckled and put his hands in his pockets. "I should get back home before it gets too late."

"Sure," he said with a nod, "m-may I walk you home?

"No, thank you, but that's not necessary."

"Are you sure? Well, let me at least see you out." Alma walked to get her bag, and they went down the stairs back into the clinic. "Don't overwork yourself, Alma," he said as they walked. "Doctor's orders! Your health is important to me."

She stood by the front door and nodded with a smile. "I'll try."

As he unlocked the front door, he said, "I'll let you know when I get those test results."

Alma stepped outside with a laugh. "The most romantic 'goodbye' I've ever heard!" Harvey chuckled and shook his head. "Goodnight," she said with a smile.

"Goodnight, Alma." She turned and started walking back to the farm. She took a deep breath of the night air and smiled to herself. He watched her leave until he couldn't see her anymore, then he closed and locked the clinic door behind him.