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Harvey wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon. Not fully conscious yet, he instinctively reaches for his wife. The sheets are rumpled, the pillows askew—but her side of the bed is empty. As he opens his eyes, it dawns on him that Min must be cooking breakfast.
He sits up, ready to go help. He’s usually the one who makes their breakfast. But before he can even reach for his glasses, Min breezes through the bedroom doorway, carrying a tray.
“Don’t move!” she cries.
Her smile, as always, takes Harvey’s breath away. The world might be fuzzy to his naked eyes, but the joy written all over her face is clear as crystal. As he puts his glasses on, Min props the tray over his lap. A mug of coffee steams beside a plate loaded with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and country potatoes.
“What’s all this?” he asks.
“What does it look like?” she replies with a laugh. “Happy birthday, Harvey.”
“Darling, you didn’t have to—”
“Stop,” she gently interjects, placing a finger on his lips. She’s still smiling, her bright blue eyes twinkling with glee that she was able to surprise him. “I know you want to spend time alone today, but I couldn’t let you make your own birthday breakfast. There’s a thermos of coffee waiting for you on the kitchen table for your walk. It’ll stay hot for hours, so take your time. I’ll be out with the cows for a bit.”
Min slides her hand to his jaw, tilting his face up as she bends to kiss him. She murmurs another “happy birthday” as she slowly pulls away. Harvey doesn’t want her to go, but he’s so awestruck by her thoughtfulness that he can’t seem to speak.
Back on the first day of Winter, Min asked what he wanted to do for his birthday. “Sky’s the limit!” she told him. It would be his first birthday as a married man and, truth be told, Harvey couldn’t think of anything he really wanted. So he told Min he would be happy to do the same thing he always did for his birthday—take a long walk with a cup of coffee from the saloon and enjoy some alone time around the valley. There was a flash of disappointment on her face when he said that, but it was quickly replaced with a grin.
“Whatever you want, sweetie,” she said. “That sounds like a nice way to spend the day.”
“I’d love to have dinner with you that night,” Harvey added, taking her hand. “Just the two of us. I can cook something special.”
She shook her head resolutely. “Absolutely not. You’re not lifting a finger on your birthday. I’ll make dinner—anything you want—and I’m making you that cup of coffee so you don’t have to buy it from Gus.”
Now, sitting in bed, Harvey savors the delicious breakfast his wife so lovingly prepared for him. As instructed, he takes his time to shower, shave, and dress. The thermos of coffee is right where Min said it would be: on the kitchen table, at his usual seat. But first, he does the dishes, finding contentment in the familiar rhythms of scrubbing and rinsing and drying.
On the porch, bundled up in his coat and gloves, he hears Min’s offkey singing from the barn. He smiles to himself. She can never quite find the pitch when she has her headphones in, but to Harvey, it’s the sweetest song in the world. He sips his coffee, made with the just the right amount of cream and sugar, and sets off toward town.
He waves to Pam, shivering at the bus stop. She might complain about the cold sometimes, but Harvey has heard her half-drunken ramblings enough times to know how grateful she is to be working again. He still isn’t quite sure how Min managed to get the bus up and running after all these years. Whenever someone asks, she merely shrugs and gives them a mysterious smile.
Passing the clinic, Harvey veers north toward the mountains. It’s a sunny, cloudless day. The air is cold enough for him to see his breath, but the sun warms the top of his head. He sets a brisk pace to keep the rest of him warm, too. There aren’t many people out today, but he doesn’t mind. The whole point of this walk is solitude, right?
Ever since his freshman year of college, Harvey has taken a solitary walk on his birthday. It started that first year away from home because he had no one to celebrate with, but he found that he enjoyed it. It gave him time to pause, to reflect on the year that was drawing to a close and plan for the year to come. The quiet peace of Winter has always been soothing to him. He likes that his birthday falls in the season when the world becomes a bit more like him—still and subdued.
And so, he continues his tradition every year. Some years, especially those hectic ones during med school and residency, a day to himself felt like a blessing directly from Yoba. In other, more recent years, his birthday walk began to feel more like an excuse. If he had “plans” on his birthday, he didn’t need to worry about not having enough friends to invite to a party. If he made the choice to be alone, it lessened the sting of being alone.
As he walks past the refurbished Community Center, he hears shouts of laughter from inside.
“I’m gonna get you!” says a voice.
He glimpses Sam through the window, hands up like claws as he chases Vincent and Jas around and around. Harvey smiles. Min did that. His Min. She gave the town a safe, warm place to go in the Wintertime. A place for the kids to play and for Penny’s book club to meet. A place for Emily to give sewing lessons and for Maru to teach CPR.
And to think, on this very day a year ago, mere weeks before Min moved to town, Harvey walked past a dilapidated building that looked like a strong breeze would knock it over.
The path up the foothills is well-worn and snow-packed. The river that parallels him gurgles as it trips over smooth stones. Splashing sounds draw Harvey’s gaze. A small school of fish—perch, he thinks, but Min would know for certain—dance through the current. He pauses to watch until they disappear from sight beyond the bridge. There’s so much life, so much beauty, to be found in Winter, Harvey knows. Sometimes, it only takes a closer look to see it.
Harvey’s coffee is half gone by the time he reaches Robin and Demetrius’s house. Robin waves at him through the window, then rushes to the door to pop her head out and wish him a happy birthday. His heart warms that she remembered, and he smiles and thanks her. Ever since he and Min went on a double date with Robin and Demetrius this Summer, they’ve been thick as thieves.
A phantom tug in his gut urges Harvey to continue north. When he emerges through the pass, he barely notices the spa and the rail station. He can only stare at a particular empty patch of snow. If he digs down to the earth beneath, he wonders, will there still be notches in the dirt where a hot air balloon was once staked down?
Tears gather in his eyes at the memory. It wasn’t so long ago—only this past Fall—but that was the day his life changed forever. The day he and Min exchanged mermaid pendants and their whirlwind romance became a lifelong commitment. His heart begins to pound as his body recalls the exhilaration of being so high above the world, of baring his soul to the woman he loves more than life itself, of holding her in his arms against a grapefruit sky.
“What am I doing?” he asks himself aloud. He whirls around and begins to run.
He takes the shortcut through the western hills, forcing himself to go slowly on the steepest parts of the path so he doesn’t lose his footing. All he can think about is getting home as soon as possible.
This silly birthday walk of his is meant for him to reflect on the past year of his life. And everywhere he goes, everything he sees… it all reminds him of Min. He never should have left the farm today. He should have taken her by the hand as soon as he saw her this morning and invited her back to their bed. Should have shared his breakfast tray with her while she nestled against him, keeping them both warm.
Harvey rushes into the farmyard. He barely slows down when he spots his wife exiting the greenhouse. He vaults over the fence, surprised by his own agility.
Min’s eyes go wide, and she rips her headphones out of her ears. “Is everything okay?” she says hurriedly. “You were only gone—”
He crashes into her, and her arms enfold him without hesitation. The thermos falls from his grip, the coffee she made just for him spilling out and staining the snow brown.
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” Harvey says, on the verge of tears once more. “Not on my birthday, and not ever again.”
“Oh, Harvey.” Min sounds close to crying herself. Her hold on him gets stronger; her hand cups the back of his head. “You’re not alone. Never. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”
Harvey’s eyes are closed, and he drops his forehead to rest on his beloved’s shoulder. She rocks him gently from side to side. The wild beating of his heart starts to calm, here in her embrace, where he is meant to be.
“I love you,” he says. “So much.”
“I love you, too, Harvey.”
“I want to spend my birthday with you, Min, my darling. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be beside you.”
“Good thing I just finished my chores then, hm?” she says with a chuckle. “Let’s go inside, sweetie. I’ll make us some hot cocoa, and we can watch The Zuzu City Express.”
Harvey sighs contentedly. He straightens to see Min’s brilliant smile beaming at him. He takes her face in his hands and kisses her like his life depends on it. He kisses her so hard his nose squishes against her cheek. He kisses her so deeply he’s sure she can taste the coffee on his lips. He kisses her so passionately he stops feeling the cold.
When he draws back, he gazes into her lovely blue eyes. What he sees there makes him feel like his chest can no longer contain his heart. Once, a look like that would have made him blush and glance away, shy in the face of such unreserved love and devotion. Now, he can accept it, can hold it close to his too-big heart and offer his own love in return.
“That sounds perfect,” he says and kisses Min once again.
As they walk, glove-in-glove, toward the farmhouse, Harvey thinks briefly of the year ahead of him. Maybe next year on his birthday, he’ll take his traditional walk with Min at his side, a coffee for each of them. Maybe they’ll sleep in and snuggle in bed. Maybe they’ll throw a big party at the Community Center and invite the whole town. Whatever they do, whatever new tradition they set, it will belong to both of them—together.