Spa-Boiled

A one-shot I wrote for fun a few years ago! It seems kind of awkward that there's that opening in the hot spring for boiling eggs, you know?

Claire folded her overalls and other clothing items carefully and shoved them into the cubby. The musty scent of the old wood and fresh-laundered towels surrounded her in the confined space. The hot springs outside smelled like a boiling pot of tap water, ready for her to sprinkle in ingredients. Not that she was a big chef, but she did dabble in cooking. She was basically a jack-of-all-trades when it came to her life on the farm. And before she had only been a web programmer. She didn't even have a computer here!

She chuckled to herself as she dipped a washcloth in a bucket of fresh, cool spring water. Plopping it on her forehead, she turned the clunky knob of the door and quickly slipped into the spa water. She placed a towel by the side of the hot spring. Steam rose lazily around her in the chilly spring dusk. Through the break in the wooden plank barrier around the hot spring Claire could see the Goddess spring sparkling in the orange and pink sunset. The water there always looked so mystical… No wonder, the farmer grinned to herself, she'd met the namesake of the pond there! Flowers and flowers had given her a friend (in quite a high place!), a powerberry, and a wish.

That wish… Claire's shoulders drooped and disappeared under the bubbling, frothy surface of the hot spring. She leaned against the round, warm stones that made up the tub of the spring. She'd made that wish her first spring, two years ago. The Goddess said that she had increased his affection towards Claire, his likelihood to think of her the way she thought of him… But it wasn't really like that between them. She didn't need another wish from the Goddess, she just wished with her heart that he could love her for who she was, no magic necessary. And not just in the friendly way they felt. The rancher brought up a dripping hand and tugged down the washcloth over her weary eyes. Watering all those crops without the sprites had wiped her out…

The sound of the steam and bubbling lulled her into a sleepy state of mind, as she reflected on the feelings that had gotten her into hot water, on a certain boy in Mineral Town, on that certain friend who she wanted to be more to…

Rick gingerly placed a few eggs from the day's produce into a wicker basket his mother kept under the front desk. He placed three in, and then thought for a moment before adding one more. Popuri was twirling a long strand of her bubblegum pink hair idly, sitting at the table and kicking her legs back and forth under the chair. Bored, she glanced over at Rick and then grinned slyly, "Four again?"

Her brother jumped and swiveled around to face her, his cheeks rivaling the pink of her hair. He looked like he was about to argue something with her, but since they had gone over this a hundred times plus, he ran a hand through his hair and nodded quickly before striding over to the door, "Look after mom, okay Popuri? I'll be back in a while."

"Alright-y then," she puffed out in a sigh. She stood up and started to head towards the stairs, her dress swishing by on the floor, but then giggled and said, "Don't fall in this time! We don't need Claire bringing you back drenched again."

Grunting in reply, Rick opened the door to the house and stepped onto the farm's dirt lawn. The ground was moist from the rain yesterday, but the chickens didn't seem to mind. He looked to the sky and noticed how late it would be by the time he got back. He gripped the handle of the basket so it wouldn't swing and spill the eggs, like Popuri was prone to do when she went on this chore, and walked down the road toward the opening to the forest. The early spring evening seemed free of reproach for him, notwithstanding his sister's teasing.

But then he looked down at the basket and sighed. Four eggs. His pace slowed down, however fast he wanted to return home to make sure everything was okay. Whenever he went to the hot springs to boil eggs he would think about her. He remembered that first spring she came here, and he gave her a spa-boiled egg as a welcome-to-town gift. She loved it. But what really nagged him now was a question not that she loved his occasional gift of spa-boiled eggs, but whether she loved him.

Could she ever love him? She was beautiful, charismatic, energetic, multi-talented... Rick kicked at a clump of mud in the path as he rounded a corner and passed the carpenter's house. What was he? He was at least her friend, but… But could she think of him as more? His feelings for her had put him in hot water, knowing how close they were as friends. What would it be like to lose her friendship to this if she didn't feel the same? His grip tightened on the handle of the basket, his knuckles white with a heavy heart edging at him. A few spring flowers had popped up on the forest's floor, and Rick leaned down and grabbed a few for his mother and sister. Straightening up and tucking them into the basket, he looked at the sky and saw that the horizon was turning magenta and violet. Out of habit, he glanced at his wrist to look at his father's watch. But he had given that treasure to her. She'd encouraged him more about his father than that watch ever could.

The Goddess pond glittered in the evening and the grass looked fresh and thriving emerald even in the dimming light. The opening to the mine yawned in the corner of the clearing. The waterfall's cascading noise was equaled by the bubbling of the hot spring. Waves of steam reached and stretched over the planks surrounding the hot spring and the little sign by the opening in the wall, into the cooling evening air. Rick walked over to the side and briefly recalled not to step on the water-worn and slick stones on the edge. Kneeling down and feeling the damp earth soak his knees, Rick grabbed an egg from the basket and put it in the little wire rig for spa-boiled eggs.

He plopped in another, and another, and then the final egg, then took a moment to lean back and wipe the steam from his glasses. A few more moments of boiling would do it… Rick felt his stomach rumble at the thought of spa-boiled eggs. They tasted different from plain old boiled eggs from the kitchen. Something about the spring water maybe… A chill breeze tasting of winter blew through the area and he shuddered. Maybe he should go for a dip in the hot spring… Nope, had to get home to Popuri and Mom.

Rick flexed his fingers and reached into the hot spring, grabbing one of the eggs. He placed it into the basket, its golden color pronouncing it done, and he grabbed the second and third without issue. But the last egg, looking perfectly boiled and the only one he would give to her, slipped out of his fingers in the water. It bounced off the little wire cage and sunk somewhere into the spring. Cursing his luck, Rick speedily pushed up a sleeve and his hand dove into the water to catch it. His fingers hit something, and he reached around it and pulled it up, relieved to have saved the egg. Then his eyes widened in shock. That was definitely not an egg.

Dropping the slender foot he had somehow managed to fish out from the hot spring, he scrambled to get up before whoever it was connected to made their appearance. Rick whipped up the handle of the basket on hearing a surprised splash on the other side of the planks, but ended up turning the basket over. Grabbing the three eggs he had managed not to loose in the spring, his eyes plastered to the ground in embarrassment and a blaring fight-or-flight response, he heard the only voice that could have made this worse: her voice, "Rick?!"

Claire had woken with a start when someone had pulled her soggy and spa hot foot from the water. She'd snatched the towel she'd had by the side of the hot spring and wrapped it around her, soaking it where it clothed her under the water. She peeped around the side of the wall and felt her already red cheeks deepen in shade when she saw it was him.

Rick looked up at the sound of his name, but with a deep blush he dropped his eyes again and clumsily put three spa-boiled eggs into his basket. Claire heard him stuttering and searching for words as he picked up the eggs, "Spa-boiling eggs- Didn't realize you- I mean, should have checked—" Then he grumbled off, humiliated, "I had four b-but one of them fell in a-and I tried to gr-grab it, but—"

"Oh, you lost a spa-boiled egg?" Claire laughed nervously, feeling even her ears turning maroon. Rick's blonde bangs hung over his eyes and uncovered his own ears, which must have been close to matching hers. He looked up and nodded, more to the wall than to her. She suddenly submerged into the spa, the warm water heating her air-chilled shoulders, and searched the bottom blindly with one hand while the other held onto the towel. Her fingers wrapped around a roundish object and she surfaced. Blinking hard to get rid of the water on her eyes, she opened them to find a very, very done spa-boiled egg. Swiveling around on a smooth stone under the water, she leaned on the side of the spa and reached out the hand with the egg in it to Rick. She gave him a lopsided smile, "Found it!"

"Thanks…" Rick chuckled uneasily, grabbing the egg from her outstretched hand. This one would never do for her, he'd have to wait to give her another because the three he had were for the family's breakfast tomorrow.

Holding up a finger, Claire said, "Hold on a minute, okay? No peeking!" She ended with a laugh and started swimming towards the tiny spa building.

"Like I would, Claire!" Rick replied, turning around to face the Goddess pond and covering his face with a hand. How in the world could this have happened? No one had ever actually been in the hot springs when he came before! Let alone Claire!

He heard the old wooden door creak and slam shut in the quiet evening, and he turned around to see the clothed farmer rounding the corner. She had her produce basket, and Rick noticed a few colorful herbs from the forest inside it. Claire came up to him and rocked back and forth on her heels, "Your face is so red it looks like you were the one in the hot spring too long and not me!"

Rick ran a hand through his hair and looked down, laughing sheepishly. Claire's arm was suddenly around his, and his laugh cut short. He heard his friend's smile in her voice as she asked, "Escort me home?"

"C-course, Claire," Rick answered, starting to walk out of the clearing, leaving behind the hot spring but not the hot water feeling. Claire looked down with a grin and blush when she felt him straighten up at the chance to be her escort. She could almost swear she felt his chest puff a bit, her arm against his side. The forest appeared, bright cherry blossoms turning darker pinks and reds in the retreating light. She looked up at the sky and noticed how late it was. She looked down at her wrist, a big, almost too large to wear, watch around her wrist. Rick glanced at her when her head moved, and his heart skipped a beat to see her wearing the watch. Did she treasure it as much as he did?

They were such good friends, Claire reflected, watching as their feet stepped identically. She wondered if all those times Popuri teased her and all those times her heart thudded when Rick seemed about to say something were really going to end in nothing. Not nothing, friendship—but not that something… The sound of their feet on the bridge to her farm woke her up from her thoughts, and she looked up at Rick. He was surveying her farm, in the full swing of spring now. Rows and rows of potatoes, turnips, cucumbers, strawberries; a pasture full of milling cows and sheep; a pen full of happily clucking white chickens; a buzzing beehive; all contributed to her ranch. A field flourishing and free of weeds made her proud, remembering it when she first arrived. Rick exclaimed, "Your ranch looks like its doing great! You've done an excellent job!"

She blushed joyfully, "Thank you!" She set her basket down by the chicken pen and brushed some of her blonde hair from her face, "I'll get those later…"

"Later?" Rick's eyebrows furrowed, "It's so late already! You shouldn't stay up too late…"

"Don't worry about me, okay?" Claire scuffed her shoe in the grass before they started to walk again, "I'll just sleep in or go to the hot springs again." The mention of the hot springs made Rick flush, and Claire nudged him with her elbow playfully, "Don't worry about that too much either, okay?"

Her friend chuckled and nodded. They chatted about a few festivals, people, and places as the pair continued to her house. When they had reached her front door and separated, Rick noticed how large the farmhouse had become. He could just see through one of the windows that there was a big bed in the corner. Claire was planning ahead? His hand constricted the wicker basket's handle painfully, and he turned to his best friend. She was smiling up at him, so cheerful and in her element here at the ranch. And this seemed like the perfect moment, like so many times before, to tell her how he felt. And Claire was thinking how this would be the perfect time to tell him how she felt. But they just stood there in the deepening dusk, listening to the ranch settle down for the night.

"Well, I should be getting back to Popuri and Mom," Rick said, looking down at his feet and then back up at Claire. He suddenly remembered the flowers in his basket and grabbed one from the bunch, a moondrop. He set down the basket, held the moondrop out to her, and was dismayed to see it tremble at bit from his hand shaking.

Claire's eyes got misty as she took it gently from his fingers. She closed her eyes and bumped it up against her nose, reminiscing about her favorite flower. She always tried to keep some in her shelf to put in her vase during those dreary winter days. It smelled like every memory of her spring days in MineralTown. There was a shade of the hot springs scent from the eggs in the basket and she giggled. She looked up at Rick with a smile, "I always loved moondrop flowers."

Rick gazed at her a moment, and she watched as he bit his lip and his fists clenched and unclenched. Suddenly both of his hands were around her hand that held the flower. Claire would have dropped the flower in surprise if his hands weren't firmly around hers. His fingers were rough from chicken scratches and taking care of corn in the greenhouse. But she wouldn't have anyone else's hands holding hers like he was. "C-Claire," he began, his blue eyes searching hers from behind his glasses, "I didn't think I'd run into you tonight. I didn't think I'd ever run into someone like you, anytime. Someone that makes me feel the way I feel whenever you're around. But I… I—"

"I met you," Claire finished, smiling timidly. The horizon that the sun was peeping over was red, just the color of their cheeks. Rick leaned over the flower and down to Claire's lips. When they stepped apart Claire was beaming, and Rick blushed and grinned, unable to contain his feelings. "I'll see you tomorrow, Rick. I'm thinking on my part another trip to the hot springs is in order, for some spa-boiled eggs and a less exciting dip. G'night…"

"Goodnight," Rick picked up and swung the basket dreamily, almost tipping all the eggs out. He caught it just in time. Sheepish, he continued, "You said my cheeks were red like I'd spent too much time in the hot spring. Your cheeks are just like that now."

"Yours are still red!" Claire shoved his arm teasingly. After she walked with him to the edge of her farm, their hands held, she waved goodbye to him as his form started to disappear in the night and called out, "I guess we're both just spa-boiled!"