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Rae comes back in from another day in Ginger Island, and the new crop has finally come in. This time around, she decided to swap around what she would harvest. While she does have her usual warm-weather fruits around, but she decided to add in a little twist this time and spice her harvest up with..! Pineapples.
She brought in a few of the spined fruits but—as she's setting the fruit down on the counter— she can't help but realize that she actually hasn’t had any pineapple for quite a while. Not since she’s still lived with her parents probably. And that was some time ago by now.
…
Well, if she wants to be a proper producer of goods, she should definitely be quality checking it? So she can make sure good quality product is going out?
Right?
Right.
Blonde waves sway side to side through town, a pink skirt following closely behind. Blue eyes scan the town, narrowed and steadily getting more frustrated.
Haley has been wandering around town searching for the farmer for some time now. She needs to repay her for a — ahem— special request order that she had promised she’d pay her back for and she’s finally got the money. Now if only she could actually find her.
Really, is it so hard? She’s checked the usual spots: The river, the farm, Pierre’s, she’s even checked around the mines, but the elevator buttons looked like they hadn’t been pressed for a while. She —hesitantly— checked in with Pam and confirmed that she hadn’t driven the farmer to the desert today. Overall, Haley is completely stumped with where the farmer could possibly be.
“Where could she be?” The blonde is sat slouched over on a towel by the bench, having been the latest place she’s checked, hoping to see the outdoorsy girl fishing or something on the port. She’s been searching for the better part of an hour and honestly she’s close to calling it quits and resolving to find her another day. Thankfully for her, the thought leaves her mind when she spots the old fisherman tending to his boat, seemingly about to head out. The sight reminds her of at least one place she hasn’t looked.
"Willy!” Haley calls out, standing from the towel and taking the fisherman by surprise. Regardless, he stands up straighter and tips his worn hat to her.
“‘Ello there, miss. What can I for ya?” greets the older man, rope still in hand from untying the boat.
“Oh, I just wanted to know if you had given the farmer a ride to Ginger Island recently? I’ve been trying to find her but it’s like she’s not even here,” she says, part trying to seem polite and part slightly complaining about her lack of being able to find the girl. There’s only so many places the farmer can hide. She hopes that this time it’s actually a hit.
“Matter o’ fact, I have! I was actually just about to go an’ head over to get ‘er,” responds the fisherman, giving her a warm smile beneath his beard, “She’s been taking the past few days getting ahold of ‘er farm there.”
Haley seems to perk up at the news, sensing the end of her journey to find the farmer, “Really? Would you mind if I tagged along then? I wouldn’t mind an island day.”
Rae is sitting at the bamboo counter of the island farmhouse staring confusedly at the fruit set atop it, a knife set right beside her.
She’s been staring at the pineapple on the counter for longer than any person should have to stare at a pineapple for (about a half hour). She has no idea where to start with the spined fruit. A few pineapples that look like they’ve been mauled have already been set to the side, all hard core and tough skin. In her attempts, she’s deemed it basically impossible to get any worthwhile amount of edible meat from the fruit without expert knife skills. And unfortunately for her, college was full of ramen, takeout, and microwave meals.
She sighs to herself and reaches for the fruit and knife, about to make another cut into the fruit when there’s a swift knock at the door, waiting not even two seconds before the door swings open with a bang against the wall— effectively spooking her and leading to the knife slipping from the pineapple’s tough skin, into the not-as-tough skin of her palm.
She hisses at the new cut and drops the knife, scurrying around the table to find a towel. The pineapple juice definitely isn’t helping with the sensation.
“Farmer! Where are you?” The blonde says, strutting into the bamboo house, her skirt swaying behind her. Her eyes quickly land on the farmer and steps toward her, spotting the remains of pineapples past. “And what is the mess going on here? Why are there so many pineapples?” she says gracefully, ever the polite princess.
Rae just looks up at her with an expression that is incredibly flat, slouched against the table. Haley looks back at her, still pouty before her baby blues catch on how one of Rae’s hands is clutching her other one, the one clutched being noticeably more bloody.
“Wha-? Why are you hurt?” Haley asks, stepping forward in front of the farmer, face twisting in a way that signifies her confusion, leaning over the table at her.
Rae gives her one more look before she sighs and stands up, moving to the kitchen sink and running the water over the cut, “I was just slicing pineapple and I cut my finger. Nothing crazy,” she explains while Haley watches over her shoulder. The blonde looks her over one more time before looking at the remains of the other pineapples.
“Well, why are you cutting up so many?” she asks, her eyes still occasionally flickering back to the farmer’s hand. The farmer grimaces in response.
“They’re… more like attempts at cutting it up really,” she admits, avoiding the blonde’s eyes as she washes off the evidence of her attempts, and reaches for a new towel, “I’m getting more core and skin than actual fruit. I keep shredding the actual good part.” Haley seems to find some part about that funny and snorts at the farmer’s misfortune and grabs the knife, running it under the water while the faucet is still running.
“So, what? You’re a farmer who doesn’t even know how to prepare her own crop?” Haley says sarcastically. Her natural tone makes it sound meaner than she actually intends it but it still makes Rae grimace, even if she’s slowly getting used to the blonde’s speaking patterns.
“Look, I haven’t actually had pineapple in a while. Growing food is a whole lot easier than actually using it,” Rae says defensively while wrapping her hand. She chooses to ignore the sheer differences in skill each task takes. She’s about to grab the knife for the pineapple again when Haley pulls it away from her and she makes a face, looking confused at the action and reaches for it again. Only to have it pulled away again. “Hey, what are you-?”
“You are not slicing pineapple with a cut up hand. If you can’t even do it normally, I doubt you can do it when the acid is trying to eat at your hand,” the blonde says with narrowed eyes and takes the fruit into her own hand, “Do you have any other knives? I don’t wanna cut pineapple using a knife with blood-germs on it.”
“Who asked you to cut it in the first place?” Rae says first before she crosses her arms, “And it’s not that big of a deal, just rinse it off,” Haley’s face scrunches at the response.
“Ew. No.”
Simple as that.
She starts to dig around in the drawers for other knives and the blonde eventually does find another, leaving the other one in the sink for later clean up, “You may not see the blood and not care, but I know it was there and it doesn’t clean off properly with just a rinse.”
Rae just huffs and leans against the counter, watching the blonde slice into the pineapple with more grace than she did. The head of leaves at the top come off first before the bottom and sides are thinly sliced off, leaving the meat of the fruit exposed. And unlike Rae who tried to just brute force the flaying process, Haley actually follows the grooves of the fruit, slicing it in diagonals along the ridges. It seems so much easier when the blonde does it.
“…So why are you cutting it for me again?” the farmer asks, having never actually received a reason for the blonde’s assistance. Always full of sass, the photographer responds accordingly.
“What? I can’t just do something out of the goodness of my heart and assist the poor farmer who doesn’t know what to do with her own fruit?” Haley responds, not actually answering the question — because why would she when tiptoeing around it is so much easier?
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Rae rolls her eyes, “But is it really necessary? I can do it myself,” she insists, not wanting to secede the fact that Haley is absolutely doing a better job than she would have been in her place.
“Yeah. Sure. As if,” the blonde says in her typical fashion, cutting the core away and grabbing a bowl that Rae had clearly set aside earlier and dumping the pieces of pineapple inside. “There. Pineapple that doesn't look like it's been completely mutilated.”
Rae has to hold herself back from rolling her eyes at the blonde but has to admit that Haley did a much neater job of it than she would have.
“Now if you could be of some use and grab some other ripe fruits you don't know what to do with? Might as well make you a fruit bowl for some sort of sustenance. I can't imagine what you've been eating out here if you can't even slice a pineapple right,” that one is a whole lot harder to stop herself from rolling her eyes at but she manages. Just barely.
“I have a fridge you know. And other foods that don't require some ancient technique to prepare,” like granola bars made of tree seeds. And steaks made of bug meat. And the occasional fish.
… Okay maybe Haley has a little bit of a point about her diet. But that's one thing that Rae won't admit to.
Nevertheless, she moves to the fridge and grabs some of the fruits that she had actually set aside from recent harvests. Melons, apricots, even a pack of blueberries that weren't quite up to selling standards but were still good. “Are these alright?”
Haley looks them over quickly and nods, taking them to wash off. She sets aside the apricots and melons to properly cut and dumps the blueberries into the bowl alongside the pineapple, “It'll do.”
While Haley begins to get the work with preparing the fruit, Rae finds herself feeling awkward just standing there and watching her work. She begins to fidget.
“So, is there anything I can do to help in the meantime?” While Haley is definitely better suited for the task at hand, she can't help but feel off sitting aside while Haley — who is still technically a guest, even if she barged in out if nowhere— is doing all the work.
Haley pauses for a moment — almost like she also forgot that she is actually the guest in this situation— and just says something before it becomes obvious how long it’s taking for her to answer, “Wash dishes or something. Throw out your pineapple remains.”
This time, instead of having to resist the urge to roll her eyes, Rae just moves around to actually tidy up the space. If Haley was making food, she could at least clean up after. For a little while, they both stand in the kitchen in relative silence, interrupted only by the sound of running water from the sink or the sound of the knife slicing through fruit and meeting pit. The banter between the two of them fizzles out and it's like a small trust has formed. A surprisingly domestic one at that.
Although, perhaps too soon, the sound of slicing fruit is replaced by the sound of the pieces joining the rest in the bowl, and Haley starts to rummage around the kitchen again. When it seems to go on a couple minutes too long, Rae speaks up.
“What are you looking for?” she asks. She can feel Haley roam around the kitchen behind her, going from drawer to drawer. Haley ignored her for a moment, stubbornly continuing her search before she gives in and turns to the farmer, her tone sounding accusing.
“Where's your mixing spoon?” The blonde asks, hands on her hips like she's trying to catch Rae in the act of deliberately hiding it. However, despite what Haley may think, Rae has done no such thing.
“My mixing spoon? It's at home,” the farmer explains, “I just barely got this place going recently, why would I already have the kitchen all decked out?” Haley just sighs at the news before she speaks.
“Because it’s a kitchen? I feel like that’s one of the first things you’re supposed to kit out when you’re staying somewhere new,” the blonde says very pointedly. And while her reasoning would make sense for a normal person just staying in a WindEnE, their mind more focused on relaxing in a new space whilst on vacation than actually doing work — the same logic doesn’t exactly apply to Rae. The island is still a working space for her. She’s been more focused on making sure that what she has gathered on the island is functional and efficient more than making herself at home in the little hut.
“You realize how little I’m actually in here right?” Rae says rhetorically while Haley continues to give her sass. “You have two perfectly good hands you can mix the fruit with, just use those.”
“What? No! I’ll get fruit juice under my nails!” she protests and glares at the farmer, as if appalled she would even suggest that. The farmer can’t help the sigh that escapes at the objection.
“Just wash your hands after. It is not that big of a deal,” the brunette suggests while the blonde continues to glare.
“Well, why don’t you do it then?” Haley says as if she just made a brilliant counter against her with a good way to circumvent the work too. Rae givers her another flat look.
“I have a cut on my hand,” she reminds the photographer, the one who took the fruit away from her in the first place because of said cut. Haley wilts at the reminder and breathes a petulant little huff, turning back to the bowl and seemingly preparing herself to actually have to get her hands dirty for once. She cringes the moment her hands sink into the mix.
“Ugh… why are you making me do this?” she deliberately overlooks the fact that she’s the one who even suggested making a fruit bowl in the first place. Rae chooses to ignore her complaining and begins to rummage through her cabinets looking for some smaller bowls for dishing out the portions. Now that there were going to be two people eating, she doubts she’ll be able to get away with eating directly from the serving bowl. Especially not with Haley.
Actually. Now that she thinks about it…
“Why are you here anyways?” Rae asks over her shoulder while she grabs a couple small forks from the drawer, not bothering to word it any more politely. Haley pauses at the reminder that the fact she’s inside this little shack in the first place is very uncharacteristic of her— she would normally turn her nose up at the thought. The fact that she’s even helping the farmer cut fruit only cements that. She hesitates for another moment before she speaks.
“Well- I was just going to pay you back for my order,” Haley says, quieter now that she had been previously, like she’s embarrassed to admit it. She came all this way to pay her back for an order the farmer had completed for her. Rae finds herself blinking at the admission and her brows scrunch.
“Special order? What do you… The one from spring?” the farmer clarifies. It’s honestly been quite a while since then and she had almost forgotten about the order. “You really didn’t need to do all that, I wasn’t going to hold it against you after all this time. It was literally just a-”
Before she can finish her sentence, Haley whirls around around to cut her off, hand covering the farmer’s mouth, “Shush.”
Rae just gives Haley a bewildered look at the blonde at the harsh reaction to the mention of the order, really not seeing the deal with it but goes with it anyways, reaching up to get Haley’s hand off her mouth. Unfortunately for the photographer, it’s a rather easy deal.
“Jeez, relax. It’s really not that big of a deal, I do favors all the time,” she says, spotting the pink along Haley’s freckled face, figuring she must just be embarrassed— but she must’ve said the wrong thing because Haley’s own expression only grows more red.
“Wha- You do?” Haley asks, looking notably astonished at the information and Rae just nods.
“Yeah? Comes with the territory,” Rae is going to ignore the quick up-down Haley does, “Marnie’s asked, Jodi, Caroline… Lewis even asked pretty early on.” Haley just seems to look even more shocked at that.
“I… Didn’t think they were like that,” the blonde says a little cautiously. Rae just gives her another confused look.
“‘Like that?’ What, like needing a special ingredient or needing something found? It’s not bad to ask a favor or two of someone sometimes, Haley,” Rae finally says and it seems to make something finally register in the blonde’s mind and she… sighs? She slumps forward.
“Oh, you meant… Oh…” the blonde just looks at her for another few moments, seeming relieved for whatever reason and the room settles into an awkward quiet, Rae’s hand still wrapped around the photographer’s wrist. Rae can’t help but notice the subtle flavor of pineapple on her lips from Haley’s fingers in the absence of anything else to focus on. The farmer lets her wrist free wordlessly but speaks to try and dissipate the tense atmosphere that had formed.
“You can go wash your hands. I can plate the fruit bowl,” Rae says and walks past the blonde, setting the smaller bowls on the table to serve from the larger one. That seems to snap Haley out of whatever trance she was in and moves towards the sink, the sound of the water running filling the silence between them again.
She doesn’t know how but the tension between them seems to have both lessened and strengthened at the same time. Like it’s changed types or forms. She doesn’t know if she prefers this one or the one before.
They both end up sat beside each other at the table, quietly eating from their respective bowls. Haley keeps trying to take subtle glances at the farmer, like she’s having an inner debate about something. Rae pretends not to notice. That is, until Haley finally makes a move. Haley sets her fork down, and reaches into her pocket rummaging around before coming up with a small bag, metallic clinking coming from within it and sets it on the table between the two of them. Rae eyes the little bag for a second before Haley nudges it closer, not making eye contact. When it becomes clear that the farmer wasn’t going to be engaging first, the blonde speaks.
“Payment. For the order,” she says and nudges the bag a little closer to the other woman. the brunette look at the pouch and back up at Haley, deliberately stretching out the silence.
“With interest?” she finally says and Haley’s eyes finally look at her, widening in shock.
“I was supposed to pay interest?” the blonde asks, sounding uncharacteristically worried and taken off guard by the question. Rae tries to maintain a straight face for just a few moments before she breaks and snickers, pushing the bag away, back towards Haley.
“Nah. You don’t need to pay anything,” the farmer insists before she goes back to her bowl, having assumed the topic was done. Unfortunately for her, Haley is a stubborn one.
“What? No, I’m going to pay you for your services,” she insists, pushing the bag back towards the brunette, urging her to take the money.
“Sorry blondie, the pay period is over,” Rae says, pushing the money back, “and I’m really okay without it. I didn’t really go that far out of my way for it.”
“Still, it’s a matter of principle. What does it say about me if I don’t pay you back?” Haley argues, not one to take no for an answer, even for something like this. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t go out of your way, you still did it, so take the money.”
They go back and forth like this for a while, the fruit bowls becoming secondary to their little spat about payment. Both women have prides far too large to accept anything they might perceive as charity. Haley doesn’t want to back down on repaying Rae and Rae doesn’t feel like it’s necessary to take Haley’s money for something that was so long ago at this point. They’re at what is basically a stalemate for a moment before something comes to Rae’s head.
“You already repaid me with the pineapple. Yoba knows how many more of the things I would have gone through if you hadn’t taken over,” Haley seems to hesitate at the counter. before her eyes narrow, will standing strong.
“You can’t convince me that I paid you back by peeling a pineapple,” the blonde still seems to insist before pushing the bag to the farmer once more, but her hand glances towards Rae’s hand again, accidently revealing part of her motivation. She feels guilty about the cut. She’s not stupid, she knows the farmer didn’t just coincidentally cut herself when she barged into the little house. She realizes she probably scared her and made the knife slip. She probably wouldn’t have stuck around so long if the money was her only motivation.
“Well then…” Rae starts to stutter but refuses to lose her footing in this debate, not when Haley is starting to lose hers, “For keeping me company then?”
Now that makes Haley falter in her argument, taken her guard. “Uh… What?”
Rae also falters at her own words but decides to double down, “Well, as much as Ginger Island is nice, there’s not really many people here. I’m usually either just working or passed out when I’m here. You coming all this way and having dinner is a nice change.” The words slip out before Rae can stop them. And as much as it is said in the heat of the moment, the words also ring true in her heart.
The blonde falters again and the pink rises in her cheeks again and there’s a moment of quiet where neither person knows what to say until Haley makes the first move, huffing and grabbing the bag off the table.
“Whatever. Don’t get used to it,” Haley finally gives in, ending their little spat and going back to her bowl, basically trying to end the conversation by dropping and ignoring the woman sat to her side. It doesn’t quite work as intended however, and only seems to endear the farmer. Despite all of the blonde’s protest, she still relents.
The two women sit side by side together, eating the fruit mix— grown by one, prepared by the other. Silence— comfortable in the space between them— settles in. The sun beyond the island begins to set outside. Eventually, they’ll have to clean up here and meet with Willy to get back to town— but for now, they’ll enjoy this. The brief moment of peace between the two is a nice change between their individually busy and chaotic lives.