Friday, 5th of Spring

Alma jumped awake. She looked around and caught her breath, and she thought on what her grandmother said: "Putting others first does not mean putting yourself last. Love others and love yourself more than you ever have before, and I promise you, Alma, you will not be disappointed." She sighed and rubbed her eyes. The words she spoke were easy. The concept was easy. But it sounded so difficult to Alma. Was it even possible? She looked out the window and watched the particles of dust floating through the rays of sunshine. "Help the town - help the people, and they will help you," she heard her grandmother's voice say again. "There are things here that you don't know about yet - forces more than you can imagine."

"What kind of forces?" she wondered aloud as she got out of bed. This was just a small, tired town. She had trouble believing there was anything out of the ordinary on the farm other than some strange-looking weeds and funny-shaped rocks.

"Keep your eyes and mind open - and your heart too." Alma shrugged and made her way outside to start her day.

When she opened up the door, she saw a crow pecking at her potato plants. "Hey!" she yelled. "Get outta here!" The crow looked in her direction and flew away with startled cawing. But when she took a closer look at her crops, she couldn't help but let out a little squeal; tiny parsnips peeked up from the dirt! She quickly pulled out her journal and crossed that one off her list! And, while she had the journal out, she wrote, "Craft a scarecrow." She looked out over the farm for a minute, thinking that, if the crops were surviving, maybe it was time to move on to animals–small ones to start off with. "Build a coop," she added to her journal. Then she flipped it closed and squatted down by the parsnips. She excitedly pulled them out of the soil, but when she held them out, shaking off the soil, she thought they looked pretty puny. It didn't matter, though, because she knew Pierre would buy them anyway. She watered the other crops and turned her attention to the larger farm.

Alma focused her efforts today on cutting all of the tall grass on the property because that didn't take much energy, and it allowed her to explore the farm more. She still hadn't even seen all of it! As she cut through the grass, gathering fiber and seeds, she was amazed at how big the land really was. She tried to look back to the cabin and couldn't even see it from where she was. "Two ponds, a cave, an old building … surely there's not much more!"

But as Alma was coming to the treeline at the northwest corner of the farm, she lifted her eyes and saw something that quickly made them fill with tears. At first she didn't know what the stone monument was, but when she approached, she felt the air around her become still. She saw the stone carving of her grandfather's kind face. It was a shrine to remember him. But how could this have been put here? It had to have been after his death, so who - ? Then her attention turned to a piece of paper on the corner of the stone. She picked it up. It was damp from the rain yesterday, but it was still fresh; the paper was not very dirty. It read, "Wait for my return at the dawn of the third year." It was in her grandfather's shaky and distinct all-capital handwriting.

Alma looked around her for any sign of someone. "But how - ? Was he - ? Who - ? Third year?!" She read over the note again, turned it over, and looked around the shrine for any answers. She only found herself, overwhelmed with emotions, and just started weeping.

It felt like everything hit her all at once. She was alone. She had nothing. She didn't know what she was doing, and all the hard work she was putting in every day felt like it was getting her nowhere. All she had to show for it were some weeds and tiny parsnips. But what did she expect?! Maybe, just like so many other times in her life, her expectations were too much like a daydream - a mirage that was never real, but she insisted on chasing after it, tiring herself out. Three years sounded like an eternity - but at the same time, she came here to start a new life; did she only think it would be a vacation for a few months?! Of course it would be years! Hopefully, she would be here for decades - maybe she would even die here! And at this rate, she thought, maybe that time would come sooner rather than later. "I can't do this!" she cried out to the shrine. "What was I thinking?!" But looking at her grandfather's stone face, she began to cry softly because she missed him. Someone who really cared for him must have put this here. She wondered who it could have been. She wished he were here. But, looking down at the note now crumpled in her hand, she thought … maybe he was. She held the paper close to her chest and sobbed.

After a while, she composed herself and looked at her bag and scythe on the ground next to her. She took a deep breath and picked herself up. "I guess I'll get answers at the dawn of the third year." Alma folded the note carefully, put it in her pocket, picked up her scythe, and kept going.

When she found herself back at the cabin, she made a realization: she had done it! She had successfully cleared out all the overgrown grass on the entire farm. She dropped her scythe and put her hands on her hips, looking out over the farmland. It looked so much more clear and clean, though there were still logs, boulders, and trees that needed to be cleared. But she felt very accomplished for the day. She sighed and thought to her breakdown at the shrine; maybe she could do this.

As she was unloading her materials from her bag, she wondered if the seeds she had gathered were plantable. "One way to find out," she told herself, grabbing her hoe and watering can.

When she finished watering the last seed, she was pleasantly surprised at how much energy she still had. It was just before two o'clock, so she decided to clean up a bit and head to Pierre's.

When she walked into the store, she was pleasantly surprised to see Dr. Harvey there, scanning some of the produce. Pierre called, "Afternoon, Alma!" and Dr. Harvey looked toward the door and smiled at her.

"Hi, Pierre! Hi, Dr. Harvey. Getting some groceries?" she asked as she wiped her boots and made her way to the front counter.

"I'm - I'm picking up a few things, yes. The produce here is always fresh," he said, putting a potato back on the shelf. "This stuff can definitely be incorporated into a healthy diet."

"Well, here's something else you can incorporate, Doctor!" Pierre said, watching Alma as she opened her bag. "Fresh parsnips from Paradise! Your first harvest, yes?" he asked, examining the tiny parsnips.

"Yes, I'm afraid they're not very big," she timidly chuckled, "but they were farmed with care, at least."

"I'm sure they're very nutritious," Dr. Harvey said, approaching the counter. "I'll take one, please, Pierre."

"You got it, Doc."

"Oh, thank you! I hope you like them."

"I'm sure I will. I'll cook these up for dinner tonight." He handed his money to Pierre, who bagged the produce up for him. "Thanks to both of you!"

"See you later, neighbor!" Pierre called after him. Alma gave him a wave, and he nodded to her on his way out. "So, Alma, what else have you got for me? I'm happy to buy any produce off of you. I'll give you a fair price, of course!"

"I appreciate it. I don't have a lot; just some more things I foraged around."

"Good enough for me!" He looked over the plants she had and gave her a bit of gold.

Alma looked over his seed selection and counted up her money. "Can I have some kale seeds, please?"

"You got it," he said, getting the packets for her. She thanked him, put the seeds in her bag, and said her goodbyes.

As she walked outside the store, she took a deep breath of the afternoon spring air. It had been a hard but rewarding day. She decided to celebrate her first harvest by taking it easy that night. She went back to the farm and watched the sun set from the front porch, eating into a crunchy parsnip for dinner.

"What's wrong, Al?" She felt his hand stroking her long hair out of her face. "Tell me," he said softly. "I know you're awake. And I know something is bothering you."

She opened her eyes and saw the outlines of his face drawn by the light of the city coming through the sheer curtains. His hand rested on her cheek. She moaned a little and kissed it. "Hi, sweetie." She patted his hand. "I'm okay. Go back to sleep."

He kept looking at her, scanning her face, and then repositioned, propping himself up on his elbow. "Absolutely not," he said with a smile.

She smiled too. "How are you?" she asked, rubbing his forearm. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, very much." He kissed her forehead and nose. "I'm okay. Living downtown. Got a job at the college teaching French. Bon travail."

"Yeah?" She sat up a bit, moving her pillow to support her head. "Honey, that's great. I'm so happy for you."

"And I heard you're … where again?"

"Stardew Valley. Pelican Town."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Where is that?"

"Nowhere," she laughed. "That's part of the problem."

"Ahh," he said with a nod. "C'mon, Al, tell me. What's wrong?"

She sighed and rolled onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. "I just … I wonder if I can do this. Some days I feel like it was a great idea, and some days, I … I feel totally helpless."

"Well, you're not helpless, I can tell you that. You're an amazing person." He put his hand on top of hers, stroking her thumb. "You'll get through it. You always do."

She scanned his face and loved how his blue eyes were still glowing, even in the dark light. A pain stung in her heart. "No. I don't always get through it."

His face fell too, knowing what she meant. "Hey. I'm here now."

She reached out to touch his face and wrapped her hand around his neck. Her eyes started to get hot, and she felt her throat become thick. She sat up and pulled his face close to hers, pressing her forehead to his. "Come back to me," she whispered. "I'm sorry for what I did. I'm sorry I couldn't help. Please come back."

He shushed her. "Hey hey hey, I'm here, I'm here," he whispered, taking hold of her other arm. "You did what you needed to do." He pulled his face away so he could look her in the eyes. "Listen to me." She could barely see him through the tears pooling. "You did the right thing, Alma."

"Did I?" she asked, her voice breaking.

He took her face in his hands. "I am not your responsibility. It is not your job to fix me. I am responsible for my own actions. You had nothing to do with it."

"But then - why did it happen? How did I - How did I get here? I look at where I am, and I think back to what I had, and I start to wonder, was it really as bad as I thought?"

"No. It wasn't. What we had was great." He pulled her in for a kiss. In a rush, she felt like she would never let him go. She wanted him to stay there, in her arms, forever. But he pulled away. "But what you can have is better."