Chapter 12
Maru remembers the date of Penny’s birthday better than she does her own parents. It’s a clear number 2 in her mind. It’s the first day of school every year, back when they were kids. It’s more than one memory of cupcakes on the school bus, the sugar crash by mid-morning always worth it. Penny taping the card Maru made her into her locker, leaving it their all year.
The only reason it had slipped by this year was because time didn’t seem to exist for Maru, made no impression. That’s the only reason she can come up with to explain why she forgot. She’d forgotten completely, to the point where she couldn’t even chose to forget, couldn’t pretend, couldn’t decide to ignore it like Penny had ignored her birthday.
She hadn’t noticed her own birthday this year, or for two years before that. Her parents gave her a card and a cake and she consumed these things as if she were at the other end of a tunnel, watching it happen to somebody in a distant, fuzzy alternate existence.
When her parents had asked her if she’d wanted a gift she’d been confused, “what for?” As a kid she’d been easy to please, simply happy in whatever material item she could purpose into some invention. Not doing that anymore, what could she want? There was 50g slipped into her card, an apologetic, “we didn’t know what to get you”.
Now two weeks late Penny’s birthday slips into her mind. A flashing 2 of fall. The fact of remembering this date and the fact of discovering Penny’s pregnancy scare are no doubt correlated, but she can’t get it out of her mind. It circles in and out of her inner vision.
I’ve been a bad friend.
She’s baking a cake, the easy chemistry of it a soothing motion, when her brother comes in.
“You’re… baking.”
“Yep.”
“Please don’t tell me you’re trying to embellish dad’s habit with pinecone and spiceberry dessert or some shit like that.”
“No.”
“Just felt like baking a cake then?”
She snaps, “since when are you so talkative?”
“Right, I’ll just go sit in the basement and ignore everything.” He says, his voice steely.
She doesn’t respond, just opens the oven and slides in the cake pan. He leaves the room, the slam of the front door following after. Maru begins to prepare the icing.
When she gets to the front of the trailer she is reminded of the last time she’d done this. The stagnant summer heat emanating out of the place. Now it seems to radiate a coolness that makes her shiver.
It’s Penny who opens the door this time. She has a flustered look of pleasure on her face, though it quickly fades when she realizes who it is.
“Oh, ah… Maru?” She says as she looks past her, as if Maru is only standing here by mistake and someone else knocked on the door.
“I’m… sorry I missed your birthday.”
Penny’s eyes snap down to meet Maru’s, “Wh-what?”
“I made you a poppy seed cake… I don’t know if you still like that.” She holds it up to her. The distance of the one step between them seeming impossibly large.
“Yeah, um… I do.” She seems more confused than anything else.
After a second of standing there non-reacting, Penny reaches out and gingerly accepts the foil-covered offering. Then, her eyes narrowing in suspicion, holding it out in front of her like it stinks, “why are you bringing this to me?”
“I missed your birthday…” Maru knows she should probably add that she’s sorry for ignoring her for four years but she’s not sure if she can be sorry for that. Sorry for judging her at the beach? Sorry for assuming she was the same as she was at eighteen? Sorry for breaking into her medical records? She doesn’t know how to say any of this so she just repeats, “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.”
“Don’t be. You shouldn’t have bothered.” Penny says this as if it’s a straight fact.
“I should have been on time.” Maru states, that at least, she knows is true. Apart from the hours shared at school, Penny’s birthdays are always horrible. Pam used to give her books or some cheap girly thing like a headband or a pack of barrettes, but ever since she turned thirteen it was something alcoholic or nothing at all.
She can tell Penny doesn’t know how to react to that so she finishes the conversation for her, “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll see you at the fair tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Penny says flatly before closing the door.
Ry slams the door of her truck shut and lets out a momentous groan.
“Just one day.” Shane mutters, because he’s feeling it too.
“Just one fucking day.” She says through gritted teeth.
“Maybe we’ll lose this year.” Shane says without hope.
“We actively tried to lose last year and still we won. Though that did help deepen people’s understanding of food expectations. So I guess that’s good.” At the fair the year previously Shane and Ry had displayed the knarliest the farm had to offer. Twisted roots, misshapen and scarred fruits, the weirdest fermented juices and pickles they could come up with, poisonous fungi, cursed looking objects they’d found buried, the funkiest smelling cheese imaginable, mutated fish.
All it did was increase fascination with food production. Any other day they would have rejoiced and been ecstatic to talk about this, but not at the harvest fair.
Every year they continued to win Pierre continued to hate them more and attempt to swindle them harder when they came in to sell their goods or buy seeds. Every year Lewis had the Stardew Valley newspaper write a longer and longer article about them with more and more pictures. Shane and Ry both agreed that the photo-shoot was worse than Pierre’s fury.
Ry had tried to back out the year previously only to be bombarded by Lewis continually until she finally gave in when he threated to set up a tent on farm and never leave. He’d had the tent in his hand, she had no doubt he was serious.
“Let’s do this.” She sighs, as they get into the truck and drive in to town.
“What is it, Harvey?” Elliott, brushing his hair, shirt still undone, observing him from here he stood by the mirror. Harvey was sitting on the bed, fully dressed, hands folded in his lap.
“It’s nothing. Or rather, it’s something… I just… it’s nothing.”
Elliott chuckles, putting down his brush, “tell me about this nothing.” Just a few weeks they’d been together and already things felt so solid between them.
Looking down in his lap, “I’m nervous.”
Elliott walks towards him, pausing in front of Harvey. “About the fair? About being seen with a lowly author?”
Harvey wraps his arms around Elliott’s middle and buries his face in his stomach. “You know that’s not it.” Though he was nervous about that, but more in an exhilarated way. Being seen with Elliott, Elliott wanting to be seen with him.
Elliott strokes the back of his head before shifting to sit beside him.
Harvey swallows, he has to look away from him say what he’s about to, but he reaches out and takes his hand. “I’m nervous that once you realize I’m not… more than this, more than a simple small town doctor with nerdy interests… that you’ll be disappointed.”
“Oh Harvey…” Elliott reaches out and gently turns Harvey’s chin towards him and gazes into his eyes.
He almost falters under that but presses forward, “I don’t have access to a metaphorical existence like you do. I have no aptitude for creativity. I’m just… me.”
Elliott tilts Harvey’s head back, leans in and kisses his neck, tenderly leaving kisses from chin to the collar of his shirt.
“I don’t need you to be like me, Harvey.” He breathes against his skin.
Harvey grips Elliott’s open shirt in open his hands to keep himself steady, but continues on, “I know sometimes I have this tendency to get lost in my head, and I seem far away. But that’s not… I’m not mysterious.” He finishes weakly, feeling Elliott chuckle against his skin.
“My dear, I like that you are matter-of-fact. I have enough romantic metaphors for the both of us. You can’t build a life on just that, at least not with someone else. I think… I think we round each other out, don’t you?”
“I… I’m worried that the opposites attract thing might not be sustainable.”
Elliott looks into his eyes, cupping Harvey’s face in his hands. He kisses him gently. Harvey closes his eyes and allows himself to feel the pleasure of this moment, however fleeting it may be. He’s greedy for what he can get. Three weeks of not being able to sit still, needing Elliott all the time, demanding touch. It’s not like him, not like how he used to be. But he’s afraid this is all he’ll get.
When Elliott pulls away he wants to chase his lips, wants his physical desire to swallow up his fears, but he forces himself to stay.
“I’m not worried,” Elliott says, kissing his forehead. “And I don’t believe we are so opposite. No, you don’t go around concocting silly ideas, but you are always more than willing to interact with mine. Do you know how happy that makes me? To have someone I can speak freely with, without feeling like I’m coming off as a contrived pompous ass?”
“I love the way you speak,” Harvey mumbles contentedly into Elliott’s hair, but then something dawns on him. “I’m sorry, it’s too early to be having this conversation, isn’t it? We’ve only just started to get to know each other.”
“We’ve known each other for years, my dear.”
“Yes but not…”
“Intimately? Sexually?”
Harvey blushes.
Elliott goes on, “I’ve been charmed by you for years, Harvey, really. Remember when I tried to flirt with you at my book launch?”
“What? Were you?”
“Yes! And you all but ran away. I thought you hated my forwardness.”
“I’m such an idiot. I… I liked it too much, Elliott. I thought you were with Leah, and that you didn’t mean what you said. So I ran because it… did things to me that I thought it shouldn’t.”
“Had I known…” Elliott’s hand travels down Harvey’s body lower and lower, “I surely would have run after you.”
Harvey finds himself sighing into Elliott’s touch. They’re kissing again.
Elliott ends up having to brush his hair again before they make it to the fair.
Sebastian shoves his hands deep into his pockets. He’s always disliked the fall fair, and though he wasn’t the angsty teenager he was, he still finds it difficult to conjure any level of enjoyment.
Helping his mom set up her stand hadn’t been bad, seeing Clint’s swords was always cool, and Leah had some intense sculptures out this year. But beyond that, the flurry of bright activity waned on him. Part of the reason he’d agreed to help set his mom’s stuff up was that if he showed up early he could probably leave early too.
The tourists, the bustle, nullify the purpose of his retreat home. All he wanted was quietness. Maru clearly doesn’t care for it either. She’s wearing the same distant expression she’s had on since he’s been back.
After helping Robin he looks for Ry, knowing she hates this festival more than any other, and wondering if helping her out might take some of the stress off. He isn’t expecting the flash of purple hair.
“Abbi?”
She places her armload of display items down in Pierre’s box and looks up at him.
“Hi Seb.” There isn’t a lot of emotion in her voice, she doesn’t seem nearly as surprised to see him as he is to see her.
“How long have you been back?”
“Just last night.” She’s not looking him in the eye.
“Back for this?” He asks as a joke, as kids she’d always hated this festival more than anyone else. Maybe more than Ry and Shane do now.
She grimaces, “no.”
“For how long?”
She shrugs, “a few weeks.”
“I wasn’t exp-”
“I’ve got to help my dad.” She looks over her shoulder, gives him a weak apologetic smile, and proceeds to disappear into the maze of Pierre’s ‘best items’ he’s dragged out of the shop to attempt to shove into his display. Every year since Ry showed up he’s gotten more chaotic in his desperation to win.
Sebastian stands there a moment, confused about if he’s confused at Abbi’s reaction to seeing him. Did it make sense? It had been a long time since they’d last seen each other, but he’d thought they’d always be friends. He thought they had the kind of friendship where no matter how long you’re apart you can always pick back up where you left off.
Apparently he was wrong.
Instead of going towards Ry’s display box he turns back to where Maru is standing, now talking with a flushed Harvey who’s tightly gripped around the waist by a proud looking Elliott. He takes a few slow steps towards them but doesn’t make it very far before an arm is slung around his shoulder.
He jumps, having no possible idea who it is, nearly has a heart attack when he realizes.
“Hey Seb.”
Sebastian just looks at him incredulously, his stomach dropping through the ground.
Sam grins at him, “happy to see me?”
Alex had picked his grandma up that morning to attend the fair. She was a great fan of it, always loving to see how excited visitors got about their little village. Alex also found he liked it more than other festivals. Having more people around made it less intimate, made it less noticeable when he was off on his own.
Back when Haley had been here the two of them would always find a quiet spot to people watch, Haley always brilliant in her insults of the tourist. Thinking of how mean they had been made Alex a little ashamed, but today he lets himself a little smile thinking of it. They had been such dumb kids back then.
He feels a strange sense of nerves, not the usual wish to hide in his own skin. For no reason he can think of, he wants to be seen today, wants to interact with the world.
His grandma seems to pick up on his and doesn’t pester him about getting a life. She doesn’t even suggest he goes and find his own friends, just squeezes his hand before she walks off without him, knowing he’s not going to follow.
Alex does a casual loop of the fair on his own. It’s still early, most people haven’t finished setting up yet and can spare him only so much as a smile and a quick hello. He doesn’t want to disturb, finds himself walking slowly.
It’s not planned that he gets to Ry and Shane’s stand exactly when they seem to be finished setting up. Ry ducks out quickly, seeming like she wants no association between the display and herself, but Shane stands there awhile, scowling at it.
“The display looks really good.” Alex says, thinking he sound supremely stupid as soon as it leaves his mouth.
“Yeah, it does.” Shane says joylessly, still scowling.
“Is that not… a good thing?”
“We’re gonna win again.”
“Don’t want to win?”
“It’s not the winning, it’s what comes with it.”
“Tokens?” Alex asks, feeling slow. He wasn’t involved in anything competitive now, but when he had been he’d been a freak about winning, and everything that came with it.
Shane frowns deeply, “the pictures, the article, the contempt from Pierre… honestly, I think Willy should win for once. Put him on the cover of the paper holding up a smelly dead fish.”
Alex doesn’t know what to say. He used to really like all that stuff back in the day when he’d been anything near remarkable.
“Oh yoba, here’s the photographer.” Shane whispers quietly, head ducking.
Alex turns to look. He sees a trimly dressed man with perfectly set hair and a big camera around his neck. He’s nodding at Shane but then he notices Alex and does a double take.
“Hey man, aren’t you that gridball star?” He asks, holding out his hand to shake. He accepts it, engulfing the other man’s hand in his own. He wonders if Shane’s smirking at him but doesn’t chance a look.
“Uh… that was like ten years ago.” Alex feels his ears go pink.
“I remember taking your photo back then… very photogenic.” The guy his eyeing him up in a way that makes him feel the need to shift.
“Oh ah…” He doesn’t know what to say, feels himself go even more red.
“What are you up to now?” This guy doesn’t miss a beat.
“I run my own shop, mechanics and electrical.” He feels slight relief, he can talk about his work much more easily than his looks and failed sports career.
“Mechanics and electrical?” The guys sounds impressed, and Alex knows it’s unusual elsewhere, but in Pelican town you pretty much have to be jack-of-all-trades if you want your business to survive.
“Yeah,” Alex rubs the back of his head, embarrassed.
“Your shop here in town?”
“Yeah,” Alex gestures over his shoulder. Yeah, yeah, why doesn’t he speak better?
“Look, the paper is trying to highlight local businesses more... help our local economy and stuff. You’d be really helping the community of Stardew Valley if you let me do an article on you.”
“On me?”
“Yes,” the photographers eyes shift to Shane and Ry’s display, “this farmy stuff is great, but like… five years in a row? People get it.” He says with seemingly no notice of Shane or his feelings. “But a hot former gridball star turned successful business man? That’s gonna sell.”
Alex seriously doubted that.
“Um…”
“I’ve got to take some more pictures of the fair, why don’t we meet in a hour?”
“Uh…”
“I don’t think he’s interested, man.” Shane says coolly and Alex feels a flush of gratitude spill through him.
The photographer eyes him, “oh, are you that farmer? I don’t mean to be rude but we’re heard enough about you and your dyke wife and your weird vegetables.” He says, very rudely.
“… my dyke wife?” Shane repeats, stunned.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but your wife is gay. I can tell from a mile away. Anyway, Alex, I’ll see you in an hour.” He shuffles off, leaving both Alex and Shane with their mouths hanging open.
“I can’t believe he said that about you and Ry… ” Alex says, turning to see Shane’s reaction.
“Oh, that I can believe.” Shane snorts, “guy is a huge dick. He’s interviewed Ry and I extensively four years in a row and every year he forgets our names and, apparently, our marital status. I’m more interested in the fact that he remembers your name after almost ten years…” He smirks, “but I mean, who wouldn’t, you’re a hot former gridball star turned successful businessman.”
There’s something of a taunt in the way he says it, but no ounce of contraidtion.
Alex feels himself burn.
“Can’t wait to read the article.” Shane adds, clearly enjoying Alex’s embarrassment.
Alex frowns and can’t come up with any words.
Shane puts his hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry, man. I can talk to Lewis, I’m sure he’ll nag the guy into featuring the farm again.” The amusement is still in his eyes when he says this.
“No.” Alex says quickly, some weird feeling blooming in him at the touch of Shane’s hand. “You just told me you hate it.”
“But imagine how much fun my dyke wife and I can have pretending to get a divorce in front of him?”
Alex shakes his head, unsuccessfully suppressing a smile. “Like he said, it’s my duty to the community. I’m a former star, this is my moment to reclaim the glory of my youth.”
Shane looks at him squarely, “I don’t think it’s past you just yet.”
Alex accidentally looks him in the eye and feels the air around him become thick like liquid honey.
“And anyway, Evelyn told me to look after you.”
His heart stutters.
What if he steps closer?
“Oh there you are, Shane. Where on earth has Ry gotten to? If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was hiding. Anyhow, what’s this I hear about the newspaper not running an article on the farm again? Did you say something to that chap from the paper?” Shane’s arm drops from Alex’s shoulder at the same time his amused expression drops.
“I didn’t do anything.” Shane says exhaustedly, looking to the sky.
Alex feels an enormous sensation of lacking. Like he just missed making the goal that would lead his team to victory.
“Are you sure? Are you absolutely certain? Oh Alex, how are you? Well I hope. Evelyn here with you? Of course she is, I’ve already spoken to her. Wait a moment, you two were chatting before I arrived. That’s new, you aren’t usually together. Anyhow, Shane, please be kind to the photographer, we need this.”
“Lewis, we haven’t even won yet. You better keep your voice down or Pierre’s going to flip.”
“Oh nonsense, everyone knows it’ll be you. Look at this marvelous artichoke! Absolutely terrific, as if Pierre could ever dream of such a thing.”
Sam keeps his arm slung around Sebastian’s shoulders and doesn’t move it. The old comfortable feel of it isn’t what it once was, but Sebastian feels himself being pressed into the mould of the past. If he gives in, will it be the same? Does he want it to be?
Maru’s now-usual impassive stare takes on something more complicated when she sees Seb and Sam together. She’s cold with them both, evasive. Sebastian wonders if she somehow knows what’s happened between them but how could she?
His guts get more mixed up when Jodi says, “Sebastian you must be so pleased to see your old friend again!” with all this simple pride in her face. Sam is the sun to her, he must be for everyone else too, right?
It’s worse when his mother says something similar, though admittedly less Sam-centric and more about the general joy of having friends. Her genuine smile, his weak attempt to return it overwhelmed by Sam’s enthusiastic concession.
Ry’s caught up in the conversation with Lewis, nodding along looking absolutely exhausted, looking past the mayor like she wants nothing more than to be elsewhere. When she sees Seb she gives him a quizzical look. All he can do is attempt to convey a shrug with a facial expression. He tells himself it’s not on purpose that he doesn’t lead Sam over to talk to her.
“Yoba, this fair is more pathetic every year.” Sam mutters when a group of gawky tourists pass them.
“People like it.” Seb says, trying to steer away from this Sam.
“You go in for small town kitsch now, Seb?” He looks at him in the eye with amusement.
“Not what I meant.” Seb looks away, Sam’s hand drifts from his shoulder to his lower back, turning to regard him in the eye. Everything in Sebastian is panicked at the new touch but he remains still.
“Look, what is this shit I hear about you living here again? Working out of the basement like when you were a kid. Do you like being miserable?” Sam asks, that sweet concern has a habit of working its way down Sebastian’s spine, right into the deepest part of him. But he knows now, it’s only fleeting.
“Sam don’t-” He has to move now, has to turn, stillness not enough of a defense.
Sam’s hand moves from the small of his back to his hip. He stills again, doesn’t want to breathe.
“Come stay with me in the city until you can find your own place. I’ve got a futon.” Sam’s lopsided grin, but Sebastian is looking elsewhere. He has to look elsewhere.
“The same futon I’ve seen more than one person throw up on?” A none-too-serious snarky remark, another defense.
Sam beams, “the very one!” He drops his hand from Seb entirely.
Relief.
Seb snorts, “intriguing offer.”
“You can’t stay here my dude! You’re better than that. Get your music act back together, I’ll help you. It’ll be good, like old times.”
He regards Sam for a moment, wondering if he’s really hearing what he’s hearing.
He knows that Sam won’t hear his answer if he’s honest, so he just says “should we see what the fortune teller has to say about it?”
Sam rolls his eyes, but Sebastian knows he isn’t above it, even if he now likes to pretend he is. Any chance he gets to ask about his band’s future, he’ll take.
When they get to Welwick’s stand they catch Abbi coming out of it.
“Abbi!” Sam exclaims, quickly engulfing her in a hug. Shockingly happy to see her despite showing zero interest when Sebastian had mentioned she was around.
“Hi Sam.” She says neutrally, not exactly refusing the hug but not exactly accepting it either.
“Any exciting news about the future?” He asks her brightly.
She looks back at the tent, shrugging, “not so much.”
“Well, I’m going in. But stick around, ok?” And he disappears into the tent.
Abbi seems undecided for a moment if she’s going to stick around or not. He’s so caught off guard by seeing her like this that he can’t think of what to say. She used to be the one forcing conversation with him, not the other way around.
Penny saves her from making a decision, “oh hi Abbi, welcome back.” She smiles shyly.
Sebastian almost does a double take and then feels embarrassed about it. Penny doesn’t look like her usual bookish self. She’s wearing a small sundress that’s weather inappropriate, and either she’s cold or self-conscious because she’s clutching herself in a way that shrinks her. Her hair is in loose curls, framing her face.
“Hi Penny.” Abbi says, it doesn’t escape Sebastian’s attention that she’s making more of an effort to sound somewhat pleased to see her than she had with either him or Sam.
“Have you um, been back long?”
“Just last night.”
“Oh good… did I see Sam was back too?” She successfully keeps her voice disinterested but her cheeks flush a faint pink.
Abbi seems to notice this too and hesitates a second in answering, “uh, yeah… he’s getting his future read.”
Penny nods and looks fixedly at the ground. There’s an awkward pause where none of them know what to say.
“I’ll just wait here,” Penny eventually says, “to say hi.”
“Sure thing.” Abbi says. She gives Seb a sceptical look and he shrugs.
The awkwardness does not pass before Sam comes out. When he does he’s got this funny looking face on, but he quickly hides it. He doesn’t notice Penny right away.
“Hi Sam,” she says quietly.
“Penny!” He scoops her up in his arms. It’s an exceedingly familiar hug that surprises both Seb and Abbi. “Don’t you look nice.”
“Heh, thanks.” She blushes, pushing a curl behind her ear self-consciously, “I’m kinda cold though.”
“Hey, that’s what this is for,” and Sam removes his jacket and wraps it around her slight shoulders. Then he looks over at Seb, “you going in?”
Somehow it feels like a dismissal. Seb gives a single nod and follows the command.
Walking into the tent Welwick lazily motions for him to sit down. She looks into her crystal ball, turns over a few cards, and finally takes his palm into her hand, tracing the lines there with her long yellow finger nails.
“Hmm…” She finally says.
“Yes?” He asks, wondering if maybe that’s all she has to say. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done that to him.
“You’ve made the right decision.” She nods curtly.
“What decision?” He asks, knowing she won’t elaborate.
She narrows her eyes at him, “you know. Now don’t go unmaking it. Good?”
“Uh, good.”
She waves her hand towards the door.
When Sebastian comes back out it’s only Abbi waiting there, smoking a cigarette.
“Sam and Penny left, so.” She says, blowing smoke.
“So...”
“Just wanted to let you know.” And she turns to leave too.
Shane is way too damn pleased with himself.
He knows, he knows, he shouldn’t be but doesn’t dwell on the how or why of it. Too dangerous to be getting introspective at a time like this. Not when Jas is smiling naturally, having caught more fish in the pond and won more tokens than Vincent and himself combined.
Not when Marnie, of all people, is taking a stand against Lewis, refusing to compete for best display despite his nagging. “What’s the point, Lew? You won’t let me win because that would be ‘favouritism’. Though I don’t see how, as seeing in your head our arrangement is a secret.”
Not when Ry and him are blissfully unobligated to any pestilent journalists.
He’s not thinking about Alex turning delicious pink, of the tension roiling between them, of those lips tumbling opening in surprise. He’s catalogued that for later, for when he’s alone. Where it will undoubtedly be followed by guilt and a self-despising inner monologue, but that’s where the not thinking about it right now comes in so handy.
He’s just letting himself feel good about being alive.
“You’re grinning like a maniac, it’s scaring the tourists.” Ry says to him.
He doesn’t even try to stifle it, “good fair this year.”
She makes a noise in agreement. He knows she’s also over the moon about the article being dropped. She’d laughed a good five-minutes straight when he told her about the ‘dyke wife’ comment.
He can feel her giving him a look, sizing him up.
“Say it,” he wonders how much his mood is about to drop.
“Was thinking of having people over to the farm tonight.” She says, thoughtfully, knowing he’ll hate the idea.
He stays silent, not changing his facial expressing, weighing how that makes him feel. It’s her farm, he knows and she knows that she can do what she likes, but she wants him on board.
“Was talking to Gus before he went to prepare for the usual post-fair saloon night. Does it make me a dick to want to disrupt that tradition?”
Shane shrugs, still analysing his reaction.
“Just a bit. Just a few people.” She says, looking at the ground and scuffing the toe of her boot on it, thinking she’s losing.
“Can’t stop you.” He says.
“Yes, you can.” She admits, looking up into his face now.
“Don’t make me say it.” He grins again, shaking his head.
“Say what?” Her eyebrows crinkle in genuine confusion.
“That I don’t mind.” His grin is wide, because he means it.
She punches him the shoulder, “invite whoever you want, pal.” She says to him, following her punch with a squeeze on the shoulder before going off to make arrangements.
Harvey, to his credit, doesn’t spend the entire day ogling Elliott, and makes a point of talking to her. Elliott does too. The dynamic is strange to her. Seeing someone making an effort to be friends based on their partner’s wishes/comfort/desires. And Elliott makes it natural, like he’d always wanted to get to know her.
She doesn’t think she’d be able to do that for someone. She’s caught between the realization of that and how nice it feels to be treated with this kindness.
Though it’s nice, she doesn’t have that much of an attention span for it. She’s seen Seb with Sam, locked together – Seb looking at the ground, holding back any number of expressions that would make it possible for her to know what’s going on in his head, and Sam just being Sam, easily cheerful. She’s seen Abbi too, but more specifically she’s seen how she’s not with her brother or Sam.
Later she sees Penny – the dolled up form of Penny, the Penny that was at the beach with Sam. She knows what it means, but what does it mean that Penny still won’t look at her? She hadn’t been dumb enough to really believe a very late birthday cake would change anything, but she thought, maybe, a look, a nod.
Then later still, there’s Penny with Sam, his arm around her and Sebastian nowhere in sight. Penny with Sam again. What she’s expected but still painful to see. He’s not looking at Penny, she’s looking up at him.
And now, Harvey and Elliott being friendly. Chatting about Elliott being too lucky on the wheel of fortune the year previous and being ban from playing forever, about how Marnie quit competing in the display contest this year and Pierre threw a hissy fit when Lewis told him he couldn’t occupy her abandoned space, about the tourist who bought every single one of Leah’s sculptures.
She tries to be present through the conversation. Or tries at trying. Is barely able to acknowledge Ry when she stops to say hi on her way to the path towards her farm.
“So you’ve won again.” Elliott smiles a knowing smile at Ry.
She shrugs, sheepish. “Looks like.”
“And what will you be telling the newspaper this year?” He gives her a mischievous look.
Ry smiles, “not a word. Off the hook by some miracle.”
“Oh yes?”
“Something about Alex’s hotness saving the valley from economic depression”
Elliott frowns, “hmm, if that’s the approach they’re taking you’d think they’d want to photograph the town doctor.”
Harvey turns bright red and even Maru has to smile at that.
Ry chuckles, “send in a formal complaint.”
“That I might.” Elliott smiles, pulling Harvey even closer to him and kissing him on the cheek.
Ry smiles at this, but meets Maru’s eyes, almost as if she’s trying to gauge how she’s reacting. She tries to return the smile.
“Later, if you’re interested, we’re having people over at the farm.” She’s looking at Harvey and Elliott when she says this, so Maru feels off the hook from responding.
“That would be lovely, Ry.” Harvey says, smiling, still red from Elliott’s praise.
“I gotta head back to the farm for a second. Gus wants all the cranberries I can give him for whatever he’s cooking tonight.”
Maru hardly hears this, has become distracted by Sam and Penny in the distance.
“You need a hand?” Harvey asks politely, only a little pink now.
“Think I’ll be alright.”
“I’ll come with you,” Maru says suddenly, because all she’s taken in is a way out and she knows she needs to get away from seeing wherever Penny and Sam go off to. It isn’t her business, she doesn’t want to know.
Ry looks surprised but she doesn’t protest, just nods and starts walking. Maru trails after her.
“Over there, by the car… Yes, why don’t you just like, lounge against it? Now give me one of your grins. No, not like that, like you just won the regional championship. No, like you did before. Cocky young thing with the whole world in front of him.”
Lewis had tried to talk the photographer back into doing an article on the farm, but when the guy had explained what he wanted to do with Alex Lewis had given in. Now they were in Alex’s garage, Alex feeling gawky and awkward, the photographer snapping away.
“Okay, different direction… yeah, serious is good. Oh yeah, that somber lonely vibe is definitely hot these days… try arm behind the head, good… Now take your shirt off and bite your lip, let’s see if you’re as fit as you were in your school days.”
“What?” Alex said, standing up straight abruptly.
“Heh heh, only joking of course. Not that we wouldn’t love it.”
“Right… Is that good? I’m kinda tired.” In truth he wasn’t tired, he was only tired of this, whatever it was. The guy had spent over an hour grilling him, most of the questions seeming to be about his personal life and not about the business at all. He wanted to get back to the fair in time to see the judging. How would Shane react if they won when he wasn’t on the hook for this terrible interview process?
“I think I’ve got enough to work with here. You’re still a photogenic hunk even though you can’t give that sexy grin anymore.” He says, examining his photos on the camera.
Yoba this guy was making him uncomfortable.
“So, should we go in?” The guy says, not looking up from his camera.
“Yeah, I’d like to get back…”
“No, no, go in.” He motions with his head towards the door into Alex’s house.
“Um… Why would we?”
The guy raises an eyebrow at him and then lowers his gaze to Alex’s crotch.
“No.” Alex says flatly, “we’re not doing that.”
The guy rolls his eyes, “sorry, shouldn’t have expected a jock like you to be out.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How about you call me when you figure it out?” The photographer hands a dumbfounded Alex his card before leaving him in the garage by himself.
Alex had known exactly what the man had been implying, he just couldn’t believe him saying it to his face.
Back in high school he’d been a sex freak. Him and Haley had started experimenting together when they’d been fourteen. By the time he graduated he’d had sex with nearly the entire gridball team and almost all the cheerleaders. Basically anyone who wanted to fuck him he was down for. Him and Seb had even fucked once, in Cindersap forest one summer. They’d sworn never to talk about it again.
Curiosity and the thrill of the chase had compelled him to be sexually forward but at a certain point he realized he was bored of it. That it didn’t exhilarate him, that he could get a better high going for a run. So he’d stopped with the fucking around and felt no interest in it since. Like that part of him was dead.
Haley told him he just needed to ‘find love’, that maybe he was someone who required emotional intimacy in order to feel fulfilled, but love eluded him, with any type of person. Apart from his school boy crush on Shane back in the day, there hadn’t been anyone to make him excited.
He felt sick about the photographer. He’s not sure if he cares that the guy thought that he thought he was straight; feeling incapable of loving anyone romantically or sexually made him immune to caring how his orientation was interpreted. It was how he said it, like he was stupid. Sometimes he felt like his brain was stuck in the mud and he had to fight extra hard for it to work properly, but he’d thought he’d gotten past that. He liked to think he’d discovered how he learned best and put that to use, learned how to keep up but every now and then someone would use that tone of voice with him and he’d realize maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d just gotten lazy and not noticed he was out of the loop.
He was sitting in the garage by himself when Evelyn found him.
“Alex, honey?”
“I’m here.”
“Finished your big time interview?” She asks softly, sensing something is up as she walks towards him.
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong dear?”
“Just tired. Not used to talking so much about myself.” He gives a weak smile. She squeezes his shoulder. “Did you want to head home?” He asks her.
“Well, only if you’re not busy…”
“Ha ha.” He rolls his eyes and stands, ready for the day to be over.
Shane had not been looking for Alex too hard. Just keeping a constant wary eye out for him, and when he didn’t find him, standing in full view of his house should he suddenly appear there. Totally coincidental.
When Alex and Evelyn walk out they head directly for Alex’s truck. Shane has to jog to catch them in time. He taps on Alex’s window, his awkwardness and nervousness hitting him full force as he rolls it down.
“Hey, uh… I know you’re heading out but Ry wanted me to tell you you’re invited back to the farm later. We’re having a fire. There’ll be food.” He shrugs but he knows he’s unsuccessful in keeping his tone detached, knows it’s plain he wants him to be there.
“Sorry, I have to take my grandma back.” Alex says, without even looking at him. Shane feels his stomach drop.
“Don’t be silly young man, I can spend the night here. I did say only take me back if you weren’t busy. Sounds as if you are now.” She smiles at Shane who attempts to return it but finds that he can’t.
Before Alex can respond he says, “I don’t want to mess with your plans. We probably won’t start for a few hours so… If you have time? I don’t even want to be there.”
Yoba, why the fuck did he say that? Because it was true? Because he was terrified that Alex wasn’t making eye contact with him now because he’d crossed the line with that “taking care of you” line.
Alex nods, gives him a tired look, and then rolls up the window and leaves.
He’s not coming, Shane thinks. His catalogued images of off-balance blushing Alex flush out of his head and he dips right down into the guilt. The cost of his pleasure catching him with empty pockets.
It is only when she halfway to the farm that she realizes that in her attempt to escape the realities of Penny/Sam weirdness, the mournful cloud over her head spelling doom, and that other wiggling part of her mind saying none of your business, she has trapped herself with the farmer.
Ry hasn’t said anything, seems fine in silence. Maru prepares to let it encompass her whole. Not in the chaotic bustle of the town anymore, the pressure in her chest starts to loosen.
“You alright?” Ry says, contradicting Maru’s diagnosis of the situation with a willingness to speak.
She just nods and turns to examine the woods around them. She is not yet willing to speak, feels too muddled in the events and non-events of the day (and of the week, the season, the year and the ones before it). She tries to focus on something tangible and comes to realize she hasn’t walked down this exact pathway in many years.
The trees are somewhat taller, the leaves turning colour and falling, the breeze rustling branches and wisping up both their hair.
They keep walking, Maru trailing only slightly behind. She looks for more tangible things, finding peace in natural facts. The colour of plants dying back for winter, the compact dirt path, the scuffs on Ry’s boots, the grey of Ry’s hoodie counter the dark of her hair, the tan skin of her neck.
When she looks at Ry as a whole Maru notes the unequivocal fact that the farmer is attractive.
The fact just sits there in her head, like all the other facts of the world she’s been listing. It gets no special attention, she turns to listing other things; the blue of the sky, the chirp of the birds, the smell of decomposing leaves and wood, the gentle nip of the air.
The hairs at the nape of her neck the perfect length for wrapping fingers in.
Her ear lobes with plain every-day hoop earrings the perfect size for the tip of her tongue to slip through. Her ear lobes? Noticing this, just another type of fact.
Soft slope of her cheek bones, her jaw, the length of her nose with freckles from the sun. Her eyes surprisingly stormy, the curve of her upper lip.
Maru has to drop her eyes now.
But there’s
the hands. Not small like her own, strong, elegant in that strength, but rough too.
The fact expands, accumulates new facts, and then, all of a sudden, creating response. Maru’s pulse is quickening, her mouth is dry, her hands suddenly craving purpose.
Just facts.