Author's Note: I realize this chapter is pretty long, and I've good news for you. This chapter isn't altogether important to the plot of my story. In summary, Annika gets moved in. The most you learn is some background information and the layout of her new home. If you choose to read, I hope you enjoy. The next chapter is on its way.
Feels Like Home
When I woke up, I was relieved. The dream—or nightmare, I should say—made me feel trapped, and waiting for the end felt like an eternity before it finally came. I could feel sweat trickling from my brow and I wiped it with the back of my hand before sliding out of my bed. But, rather than slide gracefully out to meet the new day, I fell face down on the floor in an entanglement of sheets. In my struggle, I ended up knocking my cat off the bed. She hissed at me before turning and leaping out of the door. Grunting in frustration, I finally freed myself from my temporary prison of bedding and stood.
A knock at the door reminded me of how exactly I'd awoken. I glanced at the digital clock on the bed-side table, which glared 8:32 AM at me in bright red. Without thinking, I went straight for the front door and opened it to find out who was knocking. Two men stood in the doorway—two men whose eyes opened wide and stood in a kind of awkward silence. I looked down at myself and saw that I had neglected to change into clothes that were suitable for company. I was still wearing my bubblegum pink tank top and lavender flannel pajama pants with the animal paw prints. I grimaced then turned a smile to the visitors, who had bowed their capped heads to avert their gazes. How gentlemanly. I cleared my throat to get their attention and they met my gaze. I stuck my hand out for them to shake and introduced myself. They in turn introduced themselves as Dale and Eric—my movers.
Elated, I told them to go ahead bring the boxes and try to stack them all around the kitchen area, leaving a way to get to the bedroom as well as leaving room for the furniture that would be brought in as well. Albeit, I didn't have a ton of boxes anyway. Some people, when they move to a new home, have what seems like a hundred boxes they have to unpack. I probably could have fit it all in my mid-sized SUV if I hadn't sold it. Well, maybe in two trips... but nonetheless. I hadn't thought I would need a car, and as far as I knew, I still didn't. Plus, I could use the extra cash to get started on the farm.
Which was why I had the lawyers who worked with my deceased mother's will give me a list of the furnishings of the house. Most of the things that I had doubled I sold. The one exception was my fridge/freezer combination. There was no freezer here, and I was sure I'd need it. I just figured I would sell the new house's old fridge to the same person when the movers came; they could just take it back when they left. Nothing to it. And besides that, I'd had my television, TV stand, sofa, loveseat, glass coffee table, bookcase, and desk moved to the new house.
Mere minutes later, the men were done bringing in my boxes. "Um, what piece of furniture do you want us to start wit'? I assume you need help rearranging things..." the man named Dale asked. I grinned widely and nodded.
"Let's start with moving this chest of drawers into the bedroom, shall we?" It made no sense to have it in the front room, and I wasn't altogether sure why exactly, my mother had it here in the first place. But, as I wouldn't be finding an answer to that trivial question, I decided to forget about it. Wondering about it wasn't worth my time.
I walked in ahead of the men to figure out where I wanted the chest of drawers. Because, given how red the men's faces were already becoming, the piece of furniture was very heavy. I looked around and made a snap decision. "Here, put it right there in the corner against the wall, facing the bed." I stepped back to let them put the chest down. Now, the only furniture in the room was the king-sized bed in the upper left corner (or northwest corner for you directional types) with the bed-side table right by the head and the chest of drawers in the northeast corner of the room. It no longer looked quite as spacious.
The men were waiting for me to give them new directions. "Let's get the desk, television, and TV stand next. The rest is going in the front room." They nodded and left. I looked out the window that was centered in the second half of the east wall. I pulled the denim curtains that framed the window on either side back more for a better view out of it. I had a clear view of Takakura's little cabin/house and where my front gate would be. However, it was now blocked in by a small moving truck. My guess for how it got here was that, either there was an outlet in the valley with access to the ocean where it could come by boat, or it came by boat to Mineral Town, like I did, and drove the mountain trail. I didn't see how it could do the latter, seeing as how even I had a hard trek when I came... was it only two days ago?
From this window I saw the men appear in the frame of vision then disappear behind the truck. A minute later, they appeared again with my desk in tow. I stepped away from the window to the center of the room to assess where the desk should go. I would've liked it to be under the window, but I wasn't sure if it would fit. The chest of drawers was wider than it was tall, with six drawers—the drawers being arranged having two rows of three.
They appeared a couple minutes later in their slow, steady pace. I voiced my opinion about the stretch of wall between the south wall and the chest of drawers, and they moved to put it where I indicated. Luckily, it fit perfectly, with hardly a centimeter left in between. I jumped and clapped in excitement which ended as soon as I realized what I was doing. But the men were already gone to get the TV and its stand.
The stand came back first. Well, technically, the stand was more like a miniature bookcase with glass doors. It was only two-and-a-half feet tall and slightly wider than that. Inside were two dividing shelves that provided three sections for my assortment of DVDs and video tapes and the players for both. I had Dale and Eric put it against the south wall facing the king-sized bed.
Next came the television, which was sizeable, but not huge. It was flat-panel and high definition so its size never bothered me.
Now, as the guys went out to get the next piece of furniture I set to work rearranging things in the front room. The phone and its table were right in front of the phone jack for its connection. I dug around the boxes until I found the extension I'd used in my apartment in the city and hooked that up with the existing cable. I slid the table to the northwest corner of the room. I took the contents out of the two drawers in the table and set them on the bar-table. Then I moved back to my stacks of boxes to dig around for my shaggy white rug, which I unrolled and laid on the floor. It looked strange, with the rug in the middle of the floor, but I'd positioned it in such a way where the sofa and loveseat I had could be arranged around it as well as against the walls where I wanted them.
Dale and Eric came in first with the sofa, and I instructed them to set it down against the west wall, directly beside the phone table. This put the sofa about six inches away from the rug I'd placed on the floor. I, for one, was impressed that I'd placed it so accurately. I couldn't help but grin to myself.
They brought the loveseat in next, which I had placed against the north wall and again beside the phone table, closing the table in. It formed a nice 'L' in that northwest corner. My glass coffee table came next and was placed on the rug in front of the loveseat and sofa, leaving plenty of leg-room, of course. The bookcase was then placed in the southwest corner, against the west wall and facing the same direction as the sofa.
The last piece of furniture was my fridge/freezer, I knew, so I had the guys disconnect the old fridge first and set it by the door before they left to retrieve the new one. While they left to collect the last item on the truck, I emptied the fridge of its contents and put them on the counter to the left of the... fridge space.
By the time I was finished with this chore, Dale and Eric had retrieved my shiny chrome fridge/freezer. They kind of had to squeeze the thing in between the counter and the oven, so it was harder to connect this new fridge's wires and coils than it was to disconnect the old one. I had to climb over the table and left-side counter to crawl into the space behind where they set the new fridge and hook up things myself. When I climbed back out, any and all dust that had been behind there was now on my clothes. I grimaced and brushed myself off, which was an action I instantly regretted when the dust fell in a sheet to the ground, a corner of the rug, and on the loveseat's arm. I stepped carefully to position myself in front of the loveseat to try and blow the dust from the arm to the floor. Most of it came off. But the rest was certainly cleanable with some water and a towel.
The guys loaded the old fridge on the truck and came back to confirm that they would have Linda, my father's sister and my aunt who ran the moving company I'd hired, send the money to me for the old fridge when she received it. I requested that she send cash rather than a check, since there were no banks in this rural valley. I also told them to take fifty G each in tip from the selling price of it. I didn't think it would sell for anything more than that and certainly not less, so I figured I was safe. Dale and Eric tipped their hats and thanked me for my generosity. They left promptly afterward.
I stood by the door of the house and looked in at it to get a good view. To be truthful, it looked almost too perfect. The walls had been previously textured and painted with the lightest of blues—almost white in color, but with a blue tint—and had white floor moldings. The hardwood floor was a classic mahogany that contrasted well with the wall colors. My sofa and loveseat were denim and had white accent pillows. The denim color matched the bedspread and curtains on the windows exactly, which I thought was too good to be true. Yet, here I was looking right at it. I shook my head, unbelieving of my good fortune. Then my fridge caught my eye. Whereas the oven and appliances were all black and the kitchen tiles and countertops were white, my fridge was stainless steel and glimmered slightly in the light. I grimaced at how my image of perfect décor was suddenly shattered by the chrome. Trying to think of positives, I pointed out to myself that the handles and rubber insulators were black and therefore matched the rest of the kitchen appliances.
Sighing in satisfaction, I moved to unpack my boxes, hoping against all odds that I could finish unpacking today so I can focus on meeting neighbors or whatever tomorrow. I glanced at my wristwatch and saw that it was now nearly half past ten in the morning. I was admittedly amazed at the efficiency of the movers—there were definitely no regrets at the more than generous tips I'd given them. I picked up the top box from the first stack, determined to work one box at a time until it was all done.
I set this box on the coffee table, opened it, and discovered that it was one of the boxes I'd filled with classics books. Before I'd dropped out of college, I'd been working for a major in English. I'd wanted to be an English teacher at the time, but I gave it up when my father died. I didn't blame anyone but myself for giving up my dream. But I certainly hoped I could have a fulfilling life here to make up for my blunders at my dad's expense.
I placed the books in the bookcase in alphabetical order, which was merely a compulsion of mine. The next two boxes in the stack were also filled with books; by the time I'd finished putting the last book on the shelves, my bookcase was once again restored of its literature. Turning away from the bookcase, I returned to the stacks of boxes. Trying to keep out of mind how long this was really going to take, I opened up the last box of the first stack and saw that it was full of towels and washcloths for the bathroom.
The bathroom door was close to my bedroom's. The walls containing the doors met at a right angle. Stepping into the bathroom, I put my navy towels and washcloths in the cupboard underneath the sink. I kept two larger bath towels out to put on the rack mounted on the west wall. The bathroom was originally decorated in all white—white floor and shower tiles, white walls and floor moldings, white countertop, white toilet and sink; the only things that weren't white were the cupboard underneath the sink—which was oak wood—and any metals, which were a shiny silver color. Now, with the addition of my navy towels, washcloths, and rug that I would add, it looked much less... blah.
I returned to my stacks and brought out another box. This was full of my desk things: pencils, pens, tape, stapler, three-hole punch, paperclips, binder clips, papers, and the list went on. I honestly doubted how often I would use any of these things, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to have things on hand in case I had to write a letter. I'd dropped any hope of having Internet access before I came, so I was prepared for the disappointment that I was correct in my doubts.
When I came back out into the main room, I realized that the food was still on the counter. Rather than pretend like I'd remember to put them away before it went bad, I decided to shove all of it back into the fridge. Well, I guess "shove" isn't the best word to describe my standing in the open door of the fridge for half an hour organizing everything so that it was all perfectly placed where I may or may not be able to find things when I needed them. Satisfied, I closed the door and returned to work on my boxes.
Box after box was opened and contents organized. After the first stack I'd wondered why I hadn't labeled any of them. Some things I'd packed I was honestly surprised I still had. But by about five o'clock in the evening, I had everything that was obvious put away. A couple boxes still had some random things I didn't know where to put, but I figured I could just work on it later. But now, I wanted to water the turnips and maybe spend some time weeding the rest of the intimidating and ginormous field.
I turned to where the tools chest was and became confused. The lid was open. I couldn't remember ever opening it since yesterday afternoon, and, while counter intuitively, I could've sworn I'd just thrown the tools on the floor as I walked in from the day's work. I furrowed my brows in thought and realized that the movers must've replaced the tools into the chest to prevent the possibility of tripping as they brought in miscellaneous things. Satisfied with this explanation, I opened it and picked up the empty watering can. I had my hand on the door handle and was ready to go outside before I realized I was still in pajamas.
I grimaced and set the watering can by the door. Changing into my Converse low rises, black cargo pants, and a Count Chocula T-shirt, I returned to the front door. I picked the watering can up once again, and opened the door.
The first thing that ran through my mind when I stepped out of the house and turned right toward my pond was "GOLD." Everything was bathed in a strong golden light from the evening sun. And while it was pretty, it also hurt my eyes a bit. I finished my watering as fast as I could so I wouldn't have to let my retinas burn.
But while I was watering my rows of planted turnip seeds, I realized what the noise in the background behind the sound of twittering birds and soft wind through trees was. It was the barking and mewling of Leiden and Muffin. Confused, I sought out the animals, looking in the direction of their voices. I spotted them a short distance away, running about the single fruit tree. I finished watering the last row and ran toward them. While I was personally very surprised that Leiden had the energy to be running around with Muffin, I was more surprised to find them outside in the first place. It was then that I realized that I'd had no interference from them while Dale and Eric went about moving furniture and bringing in boxes or when I was finding places for all the things I'd packed in the boxes. It dawned on me that they were outside all day, and must've gotten out when the door was open.
Worry for the animals the center point of my thoughts, I gathered Muffin in my free arm and whistled for Leiden to follow. I would probably let Leiden be an "outside dog" eventually, but she was in no shape now for it. While I could see her ribs, I wasn't going to let her out.
I got inside and set them down. I threw the once again empty watering can into the tools chest and set out to find the broom I'd discovered and used to clean the dust the day before and had put in the space I'd made for it between the bookcase and south wall. I used it to sweep up the dusty mess I'd made earlier and about which I'd forgotten. I didn't want the pets rolling around in it. I knew Muffin had a bad habit of doing that when she got into dirt. I swept the dust into a pan and flung it out the front door. Dust plus grass would not be a bad thing.
I made myself toast and eggs for my one meal of the day and cooked some more packaged chicken for the pets. While the three of us ate, I looked around at the house. There were still boxes cluttering the place, but with what was already unpacked, I could see myself living in this place comfortably. The familiar items were a sign for the vision.
And as surprising as it was, this place was really starting to feel like home.
Disclaimer: I do not in any way own Harvest Moon.
Author's Note: Sorry about the monotony of the moving. Don't worry, things speed up in the coming chapters.