A Pumpkin Affair

Molly Kennedy strolled into The Pepper Pot, her favorite little café in Southington, CT, a crisp October breeze swirling behind her as she pulled off her scarf. The place smelled of cinnamon and roasted coffee, and the warm glow of fall decorations filled the cozy space. As she ordered her pumpkin spice latte, she saw a familiar figure hunched over in the corner, balancing a slice of pie and a sketchpad.

It was Rick Crowe, the local landscaper, and the last person Molly expected to see deep in thought at a café. Usually, he was more likely to be knee-deep in mulch or hauling pumpkins—because, of course, pumpkins were his thing this time of year.

She slid over with a smile. "Rick Crowe in a café, huh? I thought you’d be wrestling pumpkins by now. Or are you brainstorming the next great fall lawn decoration?"

Rick looked up, his eyes lighting up with surprise. "Molly! I could say the same. I thought you’d be lost in a book somewhere, not out in the real world, mingling with us mere mortals."

Molly laughed and pointed to the pie in front of him. "Pumpkin pie? How predictable."

He shrugged, a grin spreading across his face. "What can I say? I’m a seasonal guy. Besides, pumpkins are multi-talented—great for eating, smashing, and... landscaping?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Landscaping pumpkins? That’s a stretch even for you, Rick."

"Hey, you’d be surprised," he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Just last week I had a client ask me to create a ‘pumpkin perimeter’ around her house. It’s the latest thing in festive defense. Keeps out evil spirits and, I think, squirrels."

Molly giggled. "Or just invite more squirrels, depending on how you look at it."

Rick gestured to the seat across from him. "Join me? I promise not to make you eat anything pumpkin-related… unless you want to."

She slid into the chair, setting her latte down. "I’ll stay, but only if we agree that I won’t have to carve anything either."

"Deal. But you’ll miss out on my masterful carving skills. I’m the Michelangelo of pumpkins," Rick said, puffing his chest out.

Molly sipped her latte, amused. "Oh really? And what’s your greatest masterpiece?"

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ever heard of ‘The Pumpkin with a Thousand Faces?’ That was mine. Last year’s Fall Festival. I had to use a ladder."

"Is that why the town banned you from the pumpkin patch?" Molly quipped.

Rick leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a grand secret. "Let’s just say they couldn’t handle my creative vision. But I’m back this year. Bigger. Better. With more pumpkins."

Molly burst out laughing, causing a few heads to turn their way. The energy between them was undeniable, and Rick’s playful banter was a nice break from her usual freelance writing deadlines. The conversation flowed easily, mixing humor with hints of flirtation.

"So," Molly said, eyeing him over her cup, "what does a guy like you do for fun when you’re not singlehandedly taking over the town with pumpkins?"

"Funny you ask," Rick replied. "I was just thinking about how I haven’t done anything truly spontaneous in a while. It’s all work and pumpkins. Maybe you’d like to join me in breaking that streak? How about we take a little adventure today? It’s the perfect October afternoon."

Molly tilted her head. "Adventure? Are you proposing some kind of romantic pumpkin quest?"

"Something like that," Rick said with a wink. "We could head up to the farm, see who can pick the best pumpkin. But the real challenge? Who can find the weirdest one."

"Pumpkin oddities? Now that sounds like a challenge I can get behind." Molly grinned. "But I warn you, I have a very keen eye for pumpkin weirdness."

"Game on," Rick said, standing up and offering her his hand. "But beware—my pumpkin radar is legendary."

A short drive later, they found themselves at Karabin Farms, a local favorite, where sprawling fields of pumpkins lay scattered like orange jewels in the golden afternoon sun. As soon as they stepped out of the car, the crisp scent of hay and earth filled the air.

Rick grabbed a wagon, giving Molly a competitive look. "Alright, Kennedy. We’ve got two hours before the farm closes. The weirdest pumpkin wins. Loser buys dinner."

"Deal," Molly said, rolling up her sleeves. "But I should warn you, Rick—I’ve been researching pumpkin mutations for a freelance article. You don’t stand a chance."

They wandered through the patch, each picking up various gourds and laughing at their ridiculous shapes.

"Look at this one!" Rick held up a pumpkin that looked more like a flattened basketball. "It’s got… layers?"

"That’s nothing," Molly countered, holding up one that was long and twisted like a snake. "This one looks like it’s trying to escape!"

They continued their playful rivalry, sharing pumpkin puns and jokes as they searched for the weirdest one. At one point, Rick stopped in front of a particularly gnarled specimen.

"I think I found the grand prize," he said, squatting down and examining it from every angle. "This one’s got warts, a weird growth, and... is that a nose?"

Molly peeked over his shoulder and burst out laughing. "It looks like the pumpkin version of you!"

Rick shot her a mock-hurt look. "I take offense to that. I’m much better looking."

"Debatable," Molly teased, nudging him.

As they loaded their findings into the wagon, Rick brushed a hand over her arm. "You know, I must admit… this turned out way more fun than I expected. You’re great company, Molly."

She felt a warm flush creep into her cheeks, but she wasn't sure whether it was the compliment or the cool autumn air. "I could say the same. Who knew a day of pumpkins could be so exciting?"

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, they made their way to the checkout, pumpkins in tow.

"So," Rick said, leaning in, "who do you think won?"

Molly glanced at his odd-looking pumpkin with the “nose” and then at her snake-like one. "You know what, Rick? I think we both won."

Rick smiled softly, his eyes glinting in the twilight. "In that case, how about we both buy dinner? I know a place with the best pumpkin ravioli."

Molly laughed. "Of course you do."

With their pumpkins loaded into the back of the truck, they drove off into the October night, the air filled with laughter.