“October?” I blinked at her and she answered me with a nod. “It’s August.”
“Yes, it is.” She smiled again. “I’ll have Erica send you all of the details.” She paused and glanced between me and Dan again before sighing. “So adorable.” Then she turned and left the diner.
“October?” I squeaked at Dan.
“October,” he repeated before dunking one of his fries in ketchup.
“Did you know there was a Harvest Festival in October?”
“Yeah,” he said around a mouthful, “there’s one every year.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He just shrugged. “Are you worried?”
“Um, a little.” My voice was dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve never planned a festival before.”
“You’ll be fine, love.” He reached across the table and grabbed my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “First of all, you’re brilliant. I don’t think there’s anything you couldn’t do if you put your mind to it—besides make a decent pot of tea.” He smirked and I threw a french fry at him. “And second of all—and I might have to tell you this twice—you won’t be doing it by yourself. You will have help, which I know is a foreign concept for you, but that is the meaning of the wordcommittee.”
“Good point.” I popped a fry in my mouth.
“It’s also a great opportunity for everyone in town to learn about you what I already know.”
“That I can’t cook?”
“That you’re amazing.”
Three days later, Erica dropped off a stack of photo albums and records from the last forty years of the Harvest Festival, and I was cramming for the first committee meeting. My heart clenched every time I found a picture of my grandparents.
“I want it to be really special. Something the Kings would be really proud of.”
Belinda’s words echoed in my head, and I forced myself to keep reading. I’d just scribbled the wordsdeep-fried Oreosin my notebook when Dan came tearing into the kitchen. He was still wearing his running clothes and was clearly very excited about something.
“Dan, what the he—” I stood as he approached the kitchen, and he grabbed me and kissed me. “Um, hi?” I said with a giggle.
“I did it.”
“You broke the eight-minute mile?”
“No, not that.” He shook his head. “Well, maybe, racing to get back here, but no, the roses. The roses.”
“The roses?”
“I think I’ve created a new rose hybrid that can withstand harsh weather and even the most novice gardener!”
“That’s amazing! When will you know for sure?”
“Well, soon, I’m hoping.” He chuckled and ran his hands through his hair. “I’ll have to run a few more tests before I’d feel comfortable submitting them for peer review, but yeah. I’m pretty sure I’ve done it. I know I have.”
“That’s amazing! You’re a genius!” I squealed.
“I don’t know about that, but I am pretty proud of myself.” He smiled down at me and wrapped his hands around my waist.
“I’m pretty proud of you, too.” I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. “We should celebrate.”
“Are you done studying?” He tilted his head at the stack of papers and books covering the kitchen table.
“For tonight.” I rubbed my nose over his. “Erica dropped off dinner, so you don’t have to cook. We could go to your place, eat dinner, and then spend the rest of the night… celebrating.” I raised an eyebrow.
