The following Saturday, Kennedy walked hand-in-hand with Charlie through the farmer's market. It was the peak of the harvest season and the market was bustling. Long rows of tables were covered with nearly every imaginable variety of vegetables and fruits, as well as crafts, jams, flowers, and baked goods. What the late afternoon sunshine lacked in warmth it made up for in enthusiasm, tinting the world golden and somehow darkening the blue of the clear sky.

Kennedy was on edge.

"This just doesn't seem right. How can we know what we're shopping for if we don't know what we're making for dinner?" she asked.

"That's the whole point. We wander, we smell, we thump the squashes. We pick what looks good and then figure out what to do with it later," Charlie reassured her. "This is about exploration and a bit of adventure, not just robotically picking things off a shelf."

"But what if we don't have all the ingredients to make the dish we choose?"

Charlie set an enormous apple in her palm. "We'll make do, or make a new plan. We can invent a way to cook it on the spot."

Kennedy brought the apple to her nose. There was nothing like the smell of a fresh-picked apple, sweet and tang and floral. She picked up one more and payed the crinkle-eyed woman at the cash box, then tucked the fruit in her market bag.

"There's so much to choose from. We could have a different dinner every night for a month with what's in this aisle alone. We could be here all day without finding what we like best. And what if we don't agree?"

"Having two things on your plate at dinner isn't unheard of, you know."

Charlie's patience was starting to wear out, Kennedy suspected. She shouldn't have agreed to this experiment. It just highlighted yet another way they approached the world from opposite ends of the spectrum. They strolled along the aisle between the tables in silence.

Kennedy's mood lifted when she caught the unmistakable smell of something dark and delicious. Someone in the market was roasting coffee beans and Kennedy was hit with a determination to find them.

"Do you smell that? I think it's coming from this way."

Kennedy pulled Charlie to the end of the aisle, dodging slow-moving shoppers. One aisle over, she found the stall she was looking for. It turned out not to be a stall after all, but a small food truck with a giant plastic coffee bean perched on the roof.

"Doesn't it smell wonderful? There's nothing like freshly roasted coffee. It's not easy to find."

Charlie's smile grew more smug as she spoke. She squinted at him. "This isn't a victory for you. This is coffee for me. No more than that."

"Yes, dear," he murmured.

Kennedy stood in the short line, then ordered a half-pound of medium-dark beans and waited while the man ground the beans for her. Rather than tucking the paper sack, still warm from the roasting process, into her market bag, she carried them in front of her, happily sniffing at it from time to time.

"Good find?" Charlie asked.

"Excellent."

"So you're happy you went exploring past the end of the first aisle?"

"Yes..." she answered, growing increasingly suspicious about this line of questioning.

Charlie looped an arm through hers. "So let me line all this up. You didn't see the point in going beyond one aisle, then you did anyways to humor me. Thank you, by the way. Then you found something you like so much you don't want to put it down. Is that how it went?"

She stood on tiptoe and kissed him. "Oh, hush."

They strolled down the row, stopping often to look at things, but not buying anything more. Kennedy, holding her coffee like a security blanket, found herself exploring the market with her senses, slowly opening to the possibility that something interesting would show itself.

The stalls were a riot of color. Fresh greens, orange carrots and squashes, red tomatoes and apples, flowers of every size and color. Jewelry made from iridescent shells and dyed wooden beads. Some farmers could have been talk show hosts they were so outgoing, and others looked almost put out when shoppers asked to pay them for their wares. A harried mother tried to keep her toddler from grabbing food from every stand they passed. Another young couple, walking arm in arm, nearly walked into them; they only had eyes for each other.

As they dodged the couple, Kennedy's elbow brushed something heavy yet wobbly. She turned to steady the object and gasped.

"Fractal cauliflower!" she cried.

She scooped up the greenish, spiky head of cauliflower and, bouncing on her toes, presented it to Charlie.

"I've honestly never said this before, but that cauliflower is beautiful," said Charlie.

He turned the vegetable over in his hands, admiring the unusual shape. It was cone-shaped rather than round, and each floret was cone-shaped, arranged around the vegetable in a perfect spiral. Every individual floret had another spiral of miniature cones as well. The overall effect was striking. It was more ornament than vegetable. Kennedy took it back and turned to find the person running the stand. A woman with her graying hair pulled back under a red bandanna walked over when she spotted Kennedy.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what this is called?" Kennedy asked.

"That's our Romanesque Cauliflower. It's been a big seller this year. It's actually a cross between cauliflower and broccoli. Pretty, isn't it?" she asked.

"Gorgeous," Kennedy breathed. "But how does it taste? How do you cook it?"

"Well, it tastes awfully close to regular cauliflower, but a bit greener, if you know what I mean. We roast it with olive oil at our house, but lots of people like to steam it to save the shape and color, then add a vinaigrette dressing."

Kennedy looked at Charlie. "What do you think? Can we do something with this?"

"Of course. We might want something to go with it, but it's a great start."

An hour later, they were driving back to Charlie's place, as his kitchen was better stocked. They'd bought the fractal cauliflower, plus some fresh garlic to make the vinaigrette, greens for a salad, a small loaf of brown bread and, after much debate, two small organic buffalo steaks. Kennedy wasn't sure she wanted to try exotic meat, but Charlie insisted that it was nearly indistinguishable from lean beef.

As Charlie unlocked his back door, Howl ran up to him, making mewling noises that seemed oddly delicate for such a large, hard-living cat. He followed them inside and up the stairs to Charlie's apartment. Kennedy blushed when she remembered her first trip up those very stairs, wrapped in Charlie's arms, doing her best to tear his clothes off. Though the passion and chemistry were still there, there was a special excitement to her first time with him.

They took their bags into Charlie's colorful kitchen and spread out their finds on the butcher-block counter. Kennedy started washing the vegetables while Charlie went hunting for his cutting board and knives.

"You seemed awfully excited to find a fractal at the market. Are they part of your studies?" he asked her.

He was looking through a low cupboard and it took her a moment to take in his words, distracted by the curve and pop of his body as he leaned forward. "No, unfortunately not. I've always been fascinated by fractals, and learned a bit in my undergrad work. I love the idea that, on a very small scale, things can look completely chaotic, but when you zoom out enough, you see that the system is self-organizing. A pattern appears."

"And it repeats no matter how close you're looking. Like salt crystals, how they're perfectly square in the salt shaker, and are square at a molecular level, and makes giant blocks in nature. Or when you look at a photo and you can't tell if it's a pebble or a boulder."

"You know your fractals," she smiled.

"Of course. They're big news in the new age community. It's the beginning of the reconciliation between science and spirituality, some people think. A fractal view of the world changes it from a closed system, where you wind the clock and the clock ticks along and you know exactly what will happen, to an open system, where there's a set of guidelines, but there's freedom, too."

Kennedy set down the lettuce on the cutting board Charlie set beside the sink. "Exactly! It's the place where mathematics and the world of nature start to connect."

Charlie walked up behind Kennedy and wrapped his arm around her. "We've found something we have in common."

"Holy hell, so we have."