Coffee and Spice | Harvey | Stardew Valley

-8-

You can do this, I attempt to convince myself for the tenth time since stopping outside of Harvey's clinic.

I hadn't anticipated on being here today. It all started when I had been helping Mayor Lewis sort through the piles of junk in his attic, hoping to find something of use for the community center. I'd accidentally backed into a dusty trophy case and a small box had slipped from the top and fell right at my feet, like it was fate. Mayor Lewis had torn it open, revealing a stack of weathered journals with a name scrawled onto each cover in cramped cursive. Between the two of us, we had deciphered from the nearly illegible scrawl on the inside pages that the journals had belonged to the previous town doctor from many generations ago.

"Huh," Mayor Lewis had grunted, his bushy eyebrows slanting downwards as he squinted at the yellowing pages. "Well, I don't understand any of it, but maybe Harvey can learn something from them. Mind running these over to him?"

"Right now?" I had asked in a voice that was slightly too high, freezing in the act of setting a storage container down. "Isn't he busy with patients?"

"He won't mind. Tuesdays are usually slow for him." Mayor Lewis's large belly had let out a growl then. He patted it carefully, like he was trying to tame a wild dog. "The rest of this can wait until Saturday actually. I think Gus's famous spaghetti is calling my name."

He'd stacked the journals into my reluctant hands and sent me on my way into the blistering heat. Facing Harvey again had not been in my plans today or any time soon. I had thought about pushing the visit off and just escaping back to my farm, but Mayor Lewis might ask Harvey about the journals later. And then what would my excuse be?

Just seeing Harvey's name etched on the outside of the building is enough to send my heart fluttering in my chest like a trapped bird trying to escape its cage. But I shouldn't be nervous, I remind myself. Harvey and I are friends. At least, that's what he had said the other night outside of the saloon.

I take a deep breath and knock on the door, nearly dropping the journals in the process. I consider making a run for it before he can answer, like some immature teenager playing a prank, but then the door swings open and Harvey is standing there. Any coherent thoughts empty out of my head as his eyes fall to my face and a tinge of color enters his cheeks.

"Caira." His tone conveys that my presence on his doorstep is just as unanticipated to him as it had been for me. "What can I do for you?"

"You can start by taking these," I say, thrusting my arms out towards him. I sound a little out of breath, but I'm hoping he thinks it's just from the soaring temperatures and not from the sound of my name on his lips.

"What's all this?" He asks as he steps forward to take the pile of journals from me. It seems like he's being careful not to let our hands touch. Part of me is grateful for his caution; It's difficult enough just meeting his gaze.

"Just some old medical journals Mayor Lewis and I found going through his attic. He thought you might be interested in looking through them."

He balances the stack on one arm and flips open to a random page of the first journal. "Hmm...'patient treated with ground up bird beaks.' I'm glad that practice was lost to the past. I appreciate you bringing these by though, I always enjoy reading through them."

He glances up at me, a smile playing on his lips. I try to mimic his expression, but my heart is still thumping around wildly in the confines of my chest, less like a bird now and more like a stampeding bull. As he watches me, something resembling concern crosses his features and I feel panic tugging at the fringes of my scattered thoughts. He must somehow see how much I'm affected by him.