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One would think that the winter season would cause a farmer’s workload to lighten and allow them more free time for hobbies and visiting friends.
This was hardly Rick’s case. Chickens still needed to be fed, and now it was required that they be kept warm from the season’s harsh winds. Sure, the slowing of egg production from the hens also meant fewer new chicks to take care of in this weather, but that only reminded him that his family’s expenses remained the same while their income dropped.
Rick lingered in front of the chicken coop door, hesitating at the idea of walking back out into the cold. It wasn’t only that his breath would be knocked from his lungs, or that his eyes would water from the frigid breeze outside.
It was the question that he wanted to ask his mother when he returned to the house.
In reality, he knew that the request was not unreasonable. It was his family’s reactions to the question that would be. It would lead to a slew of questions that they likely knew the answers to, and a certain younger sister would be all-too-eager to tease him about it.
Well, now was as good of a time as any. Rick stabilized himself with a deep breath and walked through the doorway, locking the door behind him. It wasn’t a long walk to the house, but in that weather, any trek felt too long. All the more reason for him to carry out his plan. Because if he was struggling, then certainly, she was as well.
The snow had frozen into ice crystals and what had been fluffy powder a couple of days ago had turned into a choice of two paths: a slick, icy one where footsteps had already been, or a crunchy journey through iced-over snow. Rick opted for the second, the sound of snow squeaking under his boots as he walked along.
He’d make it as quick and painless as possible, he decided as he made his way towards the house.
Rick flung the door open with much more gusto than he intended, causing both Lillia and Popuri to both whip their heads around to see him. He was grateful that his glasses fogged up, as he didn’t particularly want to see either of their smug faces when he asked them.
“Has anyone seen the thermos?”
Popuri merely laughed. “Why do you look so serious? You come barging in looking like you have terrible news to deliver and you only want to know where the thermos is?”
“Well… it wasn’t where it usually was when I checked earlier,” Rick stammered.
“That’s because your sister put it away,” Lillia replied calmly, reaching up into the cabinet. She held the metallic container out to him, and even through the fog in his glasses, he caught the hint of a smirk on her lips. “It seems to be in high demand these days. Visiting Claire again?”
His eyes darted around the room, from his sister’s amused face, to the way Lillia placed a knowing hand on her hip. His gaze then traveled to the floorboards and the flames dancing in the hearth before deciding the ceiling of all places was the best place to stare.
“Yeah, well, the weather’s been rough lately, and that old farmhouse isn’t as weather proof as you’d expect.”
“Yeah, we used to play on that lot as children, and even then we could see the missing floorboards through the windows,” Popuri commented. “I know that she had some work done on it, but it doesn’t take a carpenter to see that it’s far from finished.”
“That’s why I’d… just like to check on her and bring her some hot soup from the inn or something. It’s rude to invite yourself over without a gift, right?”
Popuri stuck out her tongue. “It’s rude to invite yourself over, period! But Claire doesn’t mind. That’s what she told me, anyway~” she sang.
Lillia gave her daughter a curious look. “Did she, now? I wonder what she prefers more, the soup or the company?” She gave Rick a friendly wink.
Both women giggled and Rick accepted the thermos with a huff. “You two are making such a fuss out of nothing!”
Popuri’s grin only grew. “I’m not the one who stomped into the house demanding where the thermos was like it was an emergency.”
“N-No I didn’t!” Rick hated that he could hear his voice rise in both volume and pitch. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll be back later.” He turned on his heel to leave.
“Rick.” His mother’s voice caused him to stop in his tracks. She walked over to the cupboard and pulled out an old comforter, folding it neatly into a handled bag and holding it out to him. “If it’s cold in that house, this should warm her up.”
His cheeks went pink as he studied the design on the old fabric. “Does it have to be that blanket?”
“It’s your old one, so that will make it special,” Lillia replied sagely.
“Wow, what a throwback!” Popuri’s garnet eyes sparkled. “I forgot all about those! You had the Demon Lord set and I had the Princess one, remember? Ah, My Dear Princess… what fond memories…” She pretended to wipe a nostalgic tear from her eye.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Rick groaned.
“If it’s truly cold in that old house, I think that it would mean a lot to her to have an extra layer,” Lillia stated with finality, placing the handle of the bag in Rick’s outstretched hand.
“Fine, if that’s what it will take to get you two to quit teasing…”
“Oh, honey, if you call this teasing,” Lillia laughed softly, “you’d best be going now.”
Rick was well aware that the combination of the childish blanket with his attitude didn’t give the most mature impression of himself, but he couldn’t be bothered to care as he stopped by the inn. He ordered the soup of the day, averting his eyes when Ann curiously craned her neck to see the colorful blanket. He thanked Doug and hurried along, following a familiar set of boot tracks heading toward the farm to the south.
It was far from the first time that he had visited throughout the last year or so, and Claire had pleasantly surprised him with her resourcefulness and discipline in turning the dilapidated field of weeds and debris into a humble, functioning farm. It still had a long way to go before she was well-established, but watching her seedlings grow into plants and flower into vegetables throughout the seasons was nothing short of inspiring. They weren’t crops that would win a county fair, but she had made something grow in that soil other than noxious weeds, and that was commendable.
He was not the only one who had watched her progress with interest. Claire’s farm was often the topic of conversation, as not much happened in a sleepy place like Mineral Town. His friends’ parents went on about how she was bringing more local business to their shops and they were more than content with the less-than-perfect produce, happy to have something local for once. With time, Claire would learn more, the soil would balance out, and the things she grew would only improve over time.
The cornstalks that she had dried out towards the end of fall were short stumps in a cluster on the far end of her farm. When Rick stepped onto her property, all he saw was a pristine field of white; the earth was sleeping. There was, however, a warm glow in the windows, and he found himself a little breathless as he walked up to her door and gave it a gentle knock.
“Hello?” The voice inside sounded curious.
“Claire? It’s Rick. I thought I’d check in on-”
The door opened and he blinked, staring at the young woman standing in the doorway. She was donned in a heavy sweater and sweatpants, and her hair was loosely pulled back, but there was something about this casual air about her that made him feel like he was getting the privilege to see her in a different way than most people did.
She merely tilted her head, silently waiting for him to finish his statement.
“You? I mean, I came to see how you were doing. It’s been pretty cold, y’know?”
“I’ll say. Come on in and close the door before you let all the heat out!” she laughed, giving his scarf a gentle tug.
He complied with a nervous chuckle and kicked off his snowy boots on the mat by the door.
“Howdy, neighbor~” she lilted playfully, tucking her hands in her pockets and rocking on the heels and balls of her feet in her slippers.
“You know people out here don’t really talk like that,” Rick replied, unfastening his coat and wiping off his steamy glasses on the edge of his sweatshirt.
“Well, I do,” she responded in a sing-song way.
“No, you don’t,” he chuckled.
There were times when Claire enjoyed being contrary on purpose, and Rick wondered if one of those actions had led to her purchase of this property despite not knowing much about farming.
She giggled. “I do today, but that’s besides the point. You brought something that smells nice. Don’t tell me you brought it to eat in front of me!” Claire pouted.
“Of course not! I brought to share, silly! It’s-” Rick paused when she raised a finger to silence him and closed her eyes, sniffing the air.
“Lemme guess.”
He fondly watched the amused expression on her face. “Alright. What do you think it is?”
“Hmmm…” She pondered this for a moment before proclaiming “vegetable soup!”
Rick imitated a buzzer sound as he took out a pair of mugs and spoons from her cupboard.
“Whaaat?” Claire’s eyes widened in feigned shock. “No seriously, what is it?”
He cast her a sideways glance, pouring it into the mugs. “It’s minestrone soup.”
“That’s the same thing!” she chuckled, bumping her shoulder playfully against his.
“No, it isn’t. Minestrone has some pasta in it and… is that the only difference?” he asked, looking at her.
She merely shrugged. “Guess it depends on how you make it. Something about the soup base?”
“Sounds like an expert analysis from the winner of next year’s cooking festival,” Rick replied, handing her the mug and spoon.
“You know it!” she cackled, warming the mug against her hands.
Her smile faded slightly as she caught Rick’s eye, and he looked at her with concern. “Everything alright?”
She nodded, her smile a little strained. She looked at him, blinking more than usual. “It’s definitely alright. It’s just… this is really nice. I’ve never lived somewhere where your neighbors just check on you to make sure you’re doing okay.” Her lips began to quiver. “It’s a warm feeling.”
“You sure it’s not just the soup?” Rick quipped, bunting the side of his head gently against hers.
“I’m sure,” she replied, brightening. “It’s been chilly, and this is really appreciated.”
Claire exhaled happily into her mug, leaning her back against the counter and resting her shoulder against his. There was a content flutter in his chest that was interrupted with a sudden “What is that?!”
He merely blinked in surprise as she set down the mug and made her way towards the bag by the door.
“Holy ravioli, Rick, don’t tell me this is-!” She had spotted the blanket and was peering into the bag excitedly.
“Go ahead, take it out. Mom told me to bring it over.”
“Your mom is awesome!” Claire pulled out the blanket and held the corners in her hands, extending her arms to see the repeating pattern. “Ohmigosh, My Dear Princess! This is a relic!”
Rick laughed nervously, rolling his eyes. “It’s the blanket I used on my bed when I was a kid.”
“Well, you’d be a heck of a lot cooler if you still used it! Are you kidding me? Demon Lord?” She giggled with delight. “Oh, man… I thought he was such a hottie back in the day.” She clutched the cover to her chest.
“Well, if he’s such a hottie, then I guess that blanket should keep you plenty warm.” He had approached her and jammed his hands into his pockets, trying his best not to look too amused.
Claire donned the blanket like a cape and threw her arms around Rick. “He’s got enough hotness to keep both of us warm!”
He laughed, but his face went pink. “Ah, so is that still your taste in men?”
Claire rolled his eyes. “I am a grown woman. Of course I still think he’s hot! Those devilish horns, that pointy, pointy anime chin…” Her fingers traveled from Rick’s shoulder to his jaw. “But they don’t hold a candle to a real person who is sweet, kind, and makes me laugh.”
They both fell silent as they rested their foreheads against one another’s.
“Thank you for coming over, Rick,” Claire murmured softly. “I wouldn’t trade you for three whole Demon Lords.”
His breath hitched, but he managed a small chuckle as he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “What about three and a half Demon Lords?”
“It’s tempting,” she admitted, smiling up at him, “but I’m pretty content with what I have.”