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The soft rhythm of jazz slowly drifted up from the window ledge beyond, intermingling with the hushed symphony of another spring’s day coming to a close. On a short hill that overlooked the farmland below, Harvey and the farmer were sitting on a blanket, silently soaking in the quiet evening: the bright emerald and rubies of the strawberry fields, the peach colored sky slowly darkening in hue, the scent of dirt and life surrounding them. Each had a glass of berry wine in hand and they nibbled on the strawberries overflowing in their baskets. What Harvey was most aware of though, was the farmer sitting beside him, so close that he could feel their warmth. Even now, he couldn’t get over how comfortable they were, so relaxed in a way he only wished he could be. For him, being in the same room with them was enough to keep him tangled up in a bundle of nerves, yet still dizzy with the simple joy of being around them. Though right now, that might have been the wine talking. Harvey tried to focus on the lovely scene before them, but his mind was occupied in trying to find something interesting to say. But finding nothing, the moments passed in silence before the farmer finally turned to him.
“Thanks for helping pick the strawberries today. It would’ve taken me days if I did it myself.”
“I had fun,” Harvey smiled. “I’m glad you invited me, I would’ve hated to see you at the clinic for overworking yourself.”
After the farmer invited him to their fields a few short days ago, Harvey made the walk there almost as soon as the clinic closed. Over the course of their friendship, they’d spent most of their time chatting at his desk or occasionally in his apartment, but this was the first time they’d actually had him at the farm. At first he was worried his nerves would overtake his usefulness, but they were quickly forgotten as they spent the past few hours picking the bright berries and filling enough baskets to feed the entire town.
The farmer nudged him with their shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“Don’t lie,” They gave him a cheeky grin. “I know you’d jump at the chance to make that extra coin.”
Harvey stuttered, but before he could he could get a word out, the farmer laughed.
“I’m teasing, Harv. I know you’d never wish harm on anyone. You’re too kind.”
The compliment was enough to send another swarm of butterflies, but a familiar, heavier feeling also tugged at Harvey, singing the same tune that always came up whenever the farmer was around. He stared at his glass, swirling the dark drink. The farmer was his friend, and more importantly, his patient. He knew couldn’t afford to keep harboring feelings like this at the risk of not only losing one of his closest confidants, but potentially allowing his emotions to get the better of his job. But… he was also aware that those just might’ve been excuses to avoid the actual truth—that the farmer was simply too good for him.
It was okay though. Harvey cherished their friendship, and sitting here, right beside them as they savored the last few days of spring together—well, that was enough.
He didn’t realize the farmer had been watching him until they gently put a hand over his own, once again bringing him to reality.
“Everything okay, Harvey?”
He startled a bit, but quickly recovered.
“Yes—everything’s fine, It’s just—“ He turned to them, then paused and did a small double take before chuckling and gesturing at their face. “You have a bit strawberry on you. Right—right there.”
Eyes widening, the farmer quickly attempted to wipe it off, but didn’t quite get it.
“Here, let me just—“ He hesitated a bit before awkwardly leaning in to wipe it away. Harvey didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to the farmer then, until his thumb subconsciously lingered at the corner of their lips for a second too long. He froze before his gaze slowly rose to meet theirs. The farmer was staring.
He quickly pulled away.
“I’m sorry, I’m—it’s gone now. The strawberry.”
They let out an awkward laugh. “Thanks.”
The awkwardness lingered and Harvey cursed himself the entire time for bringing it on. He had ruined the moment for the both of them, but couldn’t come up with the words to remedy it. As he continued to silently scold himself, the farmer fell back on the blanket and tapped the spot beside them, gesturing for Harvey to lay down.
Hesitating a little, Harvey set down his wine glass before stiffly laying shoulder to shoulder with the farmer, staring up at the sky above.
“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”
Harvey looked at them through the corner of his eye before shifting his gaze back to the clouds. Flying between them, a far-away speck from where they lay on the farm, he could see a plane slowly making its way across the valley. That was the first thing that came to mind, how he’d always wanted to be a pilot. But after catching him contacting a real one for the first time, and allowing him to gush about all his model planes over and over, it was definitely no secret to the farmer.
“You already know everything about me.”
“There’s got to be something.”
Harvey thought about it for a moment.
“Well, when I was a kid, I used to play the saxophone.”
They sounded surprised. “You did?”
“Yeah. It’s been some time since I’ve last played though, so I’m sure I’ve already forgotten everything, but… it was my father who got me started. He loved jazz, so he thought I’d learn to appreciate it too, by playing it.”
“It worked.”
“Well to be honest, I hated playing. But I grew to love the music. So in a way, it did.”
The farmer turned to Harvey, using their arm as a pillow. “What do you like about it?”
This time, he didn’t need to think about it. “The improvisation. They’re always able take a song and spin it into their own unique sound, all without asking for permission.”
“Taking life by the balls.”
Harvey smiled. “That’s one way to put it. In a way, I’ve always wished I was like that. I tend to let too many things hold me back.”
The farmer was silent. He knew they were probably thinking about his broken dreams, made impossible by his crippling fear of heights and poor eyesight. It was what came to mind for him as well. But arguably, it wasn’t the only thing he meant.
He turned to the farmer. “What about you?”
“Hm?”
“What’s something I don’t know about you?”
They thought about it.
“I love farming.”
Harvey chuckled. “That’s barely a secret.”
The farmer laughed and nudged his shoulder. “Let me finish.” They turned back to look at the sky. It was a little darker now, with hints of the first stars coming into view. “When I was younger, I used to visit my grandpa here all the time. I’d run around and chase the chickens and pet all the sheep. But… then I saw how much it took a toll on my grandpa’s health, and how far away it was from everything I knew in the city. I remember thinking to myself that I could never be a farmer.” They gave an ironic smile, playing with the frayed edges of the blanket. “Even when I decided to move here, I was skeptical. But now… I can’t believe it took me this long. I’m in love with this place—the farm, the plants, the people, the animals. I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere more than I do now.”
That made Harvey smile. He recalled when the farmer first moved in a little over a year ago, how they were the center of the town’s gossip for weeks on end. They were definitely different back then, still carrying a wariness that eventually waned as they grew more accustomed to the small town and its people. Now, they had a healthy glow that seemed to make an entire room light up with them.
He also knew all too well what they meant, having lived in the city for a good portion of his life too.
“In that case, I’m glad you decided to make the move here.”
“Me too.”
Another moment of silence fell between them and they both watched the sky darken, listening to the faint music of the radio slowly get overwhelmed by the chirping crickets.
“What’s another secret you have?”
Harvey wasn’t sure if it was the high of the days excitement, or the warm buzz of the wine, or the intoxicating feeling of the farmer laying right by his side, but when they asked the question, the only thought that came up was the very one that had silently repeated over and over these past few months. The secret he so desperately wanted to conceal, yet selfishly wished the farmer would somehow realize all the same:
I love you
He felt the farmer shift and sit up, and it wasn’t until he saw them gaping at him with wide eyes that he realized he said it out loud.
“What did you say Harvey?”
Harvey shot up, almost knocking off his glasses in the process.
Now he’s really done it. The farmer searched his eyes for an answer he hadn’t prepared himself to give, and with shaking hands, he attempted to search his frazzled thoughts for something to say. All while avoiding their gaze.
“I—um. I’m sorry. I think it’s getting late, I should—I should go.”
But before he could stand and escape the scene, the humiliated and flustered mess he was, the farmer wrapped their arms over his shoulders and he was immobilized. Harvey’s heart pounded fiercely as the farmer’s fingers brushed against the short hair at the nape of his neck and when he finally met their eyes, he saw a mixture of astonishment and affection reflecting back.
“You really mean it?”
A distant voice in his mind began listing out the symptoms of a heart attack, as if he were computer wired from all his years of doctoring. Dizziness. Clammy hands. A palpitating heart. They all check out. But Harvey knew a heart attack wasn’t the cause. Regardless, he couldn’t bring himself to move away.
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this situation. I understand if—”
But before he could finish his sentence, the farmer brushed their lips against his, silencing both his words and his thoughts.
It was a gentle kiss, so short and light that it took him a moment to fully register it had happened at all. But when the farmer pulled away, the warm, fluttery feeling that filled him was proof enough. Harvey raise a finger to his parted lips, looking both dazed and shocked at the farmer who was almost as red as he were.
“I’m sorry, I was just surprised. I always thought I’d be the first to confess.” They waited, but when Harvey didn’t say anything, they began to draw back. “I hope that didn’t make you uncomfortable… I probably should’ve asked—”
This time, it was Harvey who interrupted their ramble. Take the farmer by surprise, he wrapped his arms around their waist and pulled them close before pressing his lips against theirs. This kiss was longer, sweeter, all fruit and wine and when he finally pulled away, the farmer smiled.
“You taste like strawberries.”
Harvey had no doubt he looked like one too. But he also smiled, gazing at them so lovingly as he brushed away a stray hair and cupped their face with his hand.
“So do you.”