Chapter 21: The Girl he Doesn't Know (Part 3)

Pete stood outside the clinic, the small basket of Toy Herb flowers clutched in his hand, their delicate blooms waving slightly in the breeze. The weight of each step that had brought him to this moment seemed heavier now, pressing down on him like an invisible burden. Butterflies churned in his stomach—a sensation that felt oddly foreign, as if his body understood something his mind did not.

To him, it felt like a first date—the nervous anticipation, the quiet hope, and the gnawing uncertainty all tangled together in a messy knot. But this wasn't a first date. Not for Elli.

For her, he was already her boyfriend—the man she'd been dating for years, the man she probably thought she knew inside and out. A dependable presence in her life, someone who knew her favorite flowers, her quirks, her dreams. For him, though, she was a stranger. A kind woman with a warm smile and gentle eyes, but none of the memories of the Elli he had known in Flowerbud Village.

His grip on the basket tightened as he stared at the clinic door, hesitating. Questions swirled through his mind, each one heavier than the last. How was he supposed to navigate this relationship without revealing the truth? Could he really give her the love and affection she deserved while grappling with his own confusion and loss? And was it fair to either of them to pretend to be the man she thought he was?

The thought stung, but he pushed it aside. For now, there was no clear answer. All he could do was step forward, one hesitant step at a time, and hope that the path ahead would eventually make sense. Taking a deep breath, Pete reached for the door and pushed it open, the familiar chime of the bell above signaling his arrival.

The sound of chaos greeted Pete the moment he stepped into the clinic. The first thing he heard was Elli's exasperated voice cutting through the air like a whip. "Stu! Get back here right now!"

Pete froze in the doorway, blinking in disbelief. The clinic, which he'd imagined as a place of quiet professionalism, looked as though it had been overtaken by a tornado. Elli was chasing Stu around the examination room, her movements quick but no match for the boy's wild energy. Papers lay strewn across the counter, a stool had toppled to the floor, and a stethoscope dangled precariously from the edge of a table.

Pete felt his knees go weak as he tried to process the scene. "Why is Stu here?" he muttered under his breath, clutching the basket of Toy Herb flowers tightly to his chest as if it might anchor him to sanity.

Stu, spotting Pete as though he were salvation incarnate, grinned mischievously and darted toward him. "Help me, Pete!" he pleaded, skidding to a stop behind him. Grabbing Pete's overalls, Stu peered out with a look of exaggerated fear. He was clearly enjoying himself.

Elli stormed up to them, her face flushed and her breathing slightly labored from the chase. Her sharp glare could have set the room on fire, though it was aimed squarely at Stu. She planted her hands on her hips and fixed him with a look that could only belong to a parent that was pushed to her limit. "Stu!" she snapped, her voice laced with warning. "Get out from behind him right now before I call Doctor Trent to give you a shot!"

At the mention of the dreaded word, Stu's eyes widened in mock terror, but he refused to budge. Instead, he stuck his tongue out at Elli. "You wouldn't dare! You know I hate shots!"

Pete stood between Elli's simmering frustration and Stu's open defiance, caught like a man trapped in a lightning storm, unsure which direction the next bolt would strike. He opened his mouth, hoping to say something—anything—that might ease the tension. What came out, however, was entirely the wrong thing.

"Wait… is Stu your son?" he said carelessly out loud.

The room fell dead silent, Elli and Stu's eyes open widen shock. For one breathless moment, time seemed to grind to a halt. In Pete's defense, reality had been so skewed lately that almost anything felt possible. But even he hadn't realized just how far off the mark his assumptions had wandered this time.

Elli gasped, loud and incredulous, her face flushing a brilliant crimson. "What?" she shrieked, her voice hitting a pitch so sharp Pete flinched instinctively, stumbling a step back as if the words had physically struck him.

From behind him, Stu stormed forward like a tiny soldier, arms crossed tightly against his chest, eyes narrowed in a deadly glare. "She's my big sister, you big idiot!" he huffed with righteous fury, as if Pete had just committed a mortal sin.

Pete blinked, mortified. Heat surged up his neck, settling hot in his cheeks. "Oh—uh, of course! I knew that," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as his eyes darted anywhere but at Elli or Stu.

Silence followed. Heavy. Dangerous. He could feel her stare before he saw it—sharp, unyielding, and fiery. When he finally looked at her, the transformation in her expression caught him completely off guard. Back in Flowerbud Village, Elli had always been gentle, her kindness as dependable as the rising sun. She was soft-spoken, calm, the kind of person who could mend wounds with just a smile.

But this Elli? This Elli had fire in her eyes. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest, and her jaw was set with iron resolve. Her cheeks burned—not with embarrassment, but with unfiltered indignation. "What kind of question was that, Pete?" she snapped, her voice like a slap across the face. "You think I'm old enough to have a son his age?"

Pete felt himself shrink under the weight of her anger, as if he were a schoolboy being scolded for blurting out something stupid in front of the class. "I—I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, his voice fumbling over itself. "It just… slipped out. I wasn't thinking."

"No kidding," Elli muttered, her glare unwavering.

Pete raised his hands in surrender, desperation kicking in. "I'm sorry, really. I didn't mean it. It just… things have been weird lately. My head's been a mess."

She didn't respond, not immediately. The silence hung between them, thick with words unsaid, with frustrations that seemed older than the conversation itself. Pete could feel there was more behind her anger than just his careless remark—something deeper, heavier, and still unspoken.

Then, as if summoned by instinct, he remembered, the basket in his hand. Without hesitating, Pete reached inside and pulled out a small bouquet of Toy Herb flowers—bright, delicate blooms he'd gathered just for her. Their soft white petals shimmered slightly under the clinic's warm lights.

"Here," he said quietly, holding them out to her. "I brought these. For you. I thought they might cheer you up."

Elli's eyes flicked to the flowers. Her glare faltered, surprise melting into something gentler. The air shifted. "You… remembered," she murmured, her voice softer now.

Pete didn't move, still holding the bouquet between them like a fragile peace offering. Slowly, Elli reached out and took the flowers from his hand. For a moment, the tension thinned, and though the hurt wasn't entirely gone, something in her expression—something warmer—began to return. And Pete, still recovering from the verbal wreckage he'd left behind, let himself breathe again. Just a little.

"I figured you were having a rough day," he said gently trying his best to detract away from his earlier statement.. "I thought these might help cheer you up." He gestured toward the bouquet of Toy Herb flowers still in her hands, their delicate blooms a contrast to the frazzled energy that had filled the clinic moments ago.

Elli's lips curved into a soft smile, and she let out a quiet sigh, her shoulders relaxing as if she were releasing the weight of the day. "They do," she said, her voice warm with gratitude. Then, to Pete's surprise, she leaned in and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

The simple gesture left him momentarily stunned, his mind scrambling to process the sudden closeness. Elli stepped back, her cheeks faintly pink, and gave him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry too," she admitted, glancing toward Stu, who put himself in a chair with a mischievous grin on his face. "It's just been… one of those days. Stu's been driving me up the wall."

Pete tilted his head in curiosity. "What happened?"

Elli rolled her eyes, crossing her arms with an exasperated huff. "He thought it would be funny to prank me with a bug earlier. Not just any bug, either—one of those big, nasty ones he finds outside. I swear, it had legs everywhere." She shuddered, her nose scrunching in disgust. "I hate bugs."

Pete frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "Bugs? Really?" he asked, the surprise clear in his tone.

Elli nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Always have," she said, shivering slightly at the memory. "I can't stand the sight of them. But Stu"—she shot a pointed glare at her brother, who returned it with a defiant smirk—"thinks it's hilarious to bring me every creepy-crawly he can find."

Stu stood up straighter, clearly enjoying his sister's reaction. "Come on, Elli. It was just a bug. You're such a baby about it."

Pete tilted his head, her words deepening the knot of confusion in his chest. The Elli he had known in Flowerbud Village hadn't exactly loved bugs, but she didn't shy away from them either. Fishing had been one of her favorite pastimes, and her passion for it had made her comfortable handling worms, insects, and all the slimy little creatures that came with baiting a hook. She would laugh off encounters with bugs as "part of the adventure," a sentiment Pete had always admired about her.

But this Elli—the one standing before him now—recoiled at the mere thought of a bug. The disgust in her voice, the way her nose wrinkled at the memory of Stu's prank, was so unlike the carefree woman he'd once known.

It was such a small, seemingly insignificant detail, but it unsettled him deeply. It added to the growing list of differences between the Elli he remembered and the Elli who was now a part of his life. Every new revelation felt like another thread unraveling the fragile connection he was trying to maintain between his past and this strange new reality.

"You okay?" Elli asked, snapping Pete out of his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing he'd been staring. "Yeah, sorry. Just… lost in my head for a second."

Elli studied him for a moment before offering a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, thanks for the flowers. They really do help after a day like this."

Stu walked up to them, grinning. "You should see the bug I brought her! It was huge!"

Elli groaned. "Stu, don't start."

Pete chuckled, but the unease in his chest lingered. The more time he spent with this version of Elli, the more the differences piled up, each one a reminder of how unfamiliar his new reality had become. This Elli had a brother, something that was not true in Flowerbud village. No matter how much she smiled, he couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't belong here and wanted nothing more than to return home.

Elli carefully placed the bouquet of Toy Herb flowers in a vase filled with water, arranging them so their delicate white petals seemed to glow under the clinic's soft lighting. She smiled to herself, the tension from earlier easing away with every small adjustment.

As she worked, Stu, who had been unusually quiet cautiously shuffled closer to her. He tugged at the hem of her apron, his usual mischievous grin replaced by a more subdued expression. "Uh, Elli?" he asked tentatively.

Elli glanced down at him, raising an eyebrow. "What is it now, Stu?"

"Can I… can I go play at Pete's farm?" he asked, darting a quick glance at Pete before looking back at his sister. "I promise I won't cause any trouble!"

Elli let out a long, weary sigh and rubbed at her temple, her fingers pressing into the space between her brows. It was the kind of gesture she has always felt about her younger brother—equal parts exhaustion and silent calculation. She was clearly torn. The idea of Stu being out of her hair for a few hours is very tempting, especially with the clinic being short-staffed at times. But hesitation lingered in her eyes, as though she were waiting—perhaps even hoping—for Pete to politely decline.

After all, Pete wasn't exactly known for his hospitality in Mineral Town. In Elli's mind, he was the quiet farmer who preferred the company of his crops to that of people. He rarely came to town except for supplies or spending time with her, and even then, he kept conversations short with others. His farm was his refuge, his sanctuary. The idea of asking him to babysit Stu—energetic, inquisitive, and endlessly talkative—seemed absurd, almost rude, considering the sheer amount of work he still had waiting for him in the fields.

But before Elli could open her mouth to let him off the hook, Pete spoke. "I don't mind," he said quickly, a little too quickly. In truth, he was relieved—grateful for the excuse to head back to the farm, even with company in tow. "It's no trouble at all. I can keep an eye on him until your shift ends."

Elli blinked, surprised by his willingness. She studied him for a moment, her expression softening into something that resembled gratitude—but with a trace of concern.

"Are you sure?" she asked gently. "He can be… a handful."

Just then, Stu threw his hands in the air, gasping in mock offense. "Hey! I'm standing right here, you know!"

Pete chuckled. "I'll be fine. Besides, the animals could use some company, and Stu might enjoy playing with them."

Elli sighed again, this time with a hint of relief. "All right, but please make sure he doesn't wander off or get into any trouble." She then quickly glares at Stu, "And no feeding the animals anything strange."

Stu crossed his heart. "Promise!"

With that, Elli nodded and gave Pete a small smile. "Thanks, Pete. I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Pete replied, already turning toward the door, eager to escape the lingering tension in the clinic. "Come on, Stu. Let's head out."

As they stepped outside, the sunlight bathed them in warmth, and Pete felt himself relax a little. The boy skipped ahead, chattering excitedly about what he wanted to see at the farm. Pete smiled faintly, grateful for the brief reprieve from the heavy thoughts that had been weighing him down.

Even if he didn't fully understand his place in this new life yet, at least for now, he had a clear task: keep Stu entertained and out of trouble.