I woke up exhausted. I'd been having trouble sleeping. This whole situation stressed me out. I was worried for Sam, I was worried for his family, I was worried about us, and frankly, I was worried about me. I'd never had to deal with drama like this before, and if what Sam said about this town was true, things could get out of hand quickly. The thing that kept me confident and hopeful, though, as I've said time and time again, is that I know people can change. My parents changed. My friends back home accepted me. Even I came around eventually. It can be a daunting task, but you can't stay mad at people for who they are. I really believe that.

Outside I was greeted by a rare sight: a letter in my mailbox! These were always exciting. Sometimes they were from townsfolk, sometimes from my parents, and sometimes they were really weird. So much mystery sealed away, eager to be explored and known. That, or its just bills. Not very mysterious then.

The letter this time was from Lewis, though. It read: Dear (m/n), As some of us know, Kent will be returning home from his deployment this Saturday. Most should remember Kent as Jodi's husband and Vincent and Sam's father. Make sure we provide him with the famous Pelican Town welcoming! But also, do be sure not to overplay it. Jodi has made it clear that Kent wants no ruckus or ceremoniousness upon his arrival. If you want to make your appreciation for his service known, please do, but remember, Kent is just another member of our beloved community. Sincerely, Mayor Lewis.

I folded the letter back up and placed it inside one of my pockets. It was nothing I didn't already know, of course. With three days left until Kent comes home, I'd been trying not to focus on it too much. Sam and I didn't exactly have a plan besides lay low and keep an eye on Abigail. Not that any plan we could have wouldn't arouse suspicion. To be honest, that's the part that scared Sam the most, I think. To him, there was no escaping this without running away. But that wasn't an option.

As for my farm work, things had gotten a lot easier ever since I installed a bunch of sprinklers. They cost me a pretty penny, but Yoba knows it was worth it. Now I pretty much just make sure they're all staying healthy and growing well. I got to form a much more personal relationship with my plants this way. And when you only have one good friend in town, having pumpkin sprouts for company is nice.

As with most days, I planned to visit Sam at our spot under the tree. There's not much else to do. Plus, why wouldn't I want to see him?

"Boo!" I peaked around the tree to spook Sam.

"Ahhh, I'm so scared!" Sam replied with a coy smile and faked horror.

"It's okay, it's only me."

"That's still pretty scary."

"Be quiet."

I sat right next to Sam, legs outstretched. The lake was clear and pure, waves rippling slightly on the surface. Fish swam calmly, bugs rested atop the water, and the occasional leaf drifted down from the great branches above us. There's a reason we came here so often.

I put one hand on the ground to my right and scooched closer to Sam. He put his arm around me and I rested my hand on his thigh. He smiled as he rubbed my shoulder. I planted a quick kiss on his cheek just to see him blush. As I anticipated, his face glowed red. He smirked and looked right back at me. That look. He held my chin up between his thumb and forefinger, and kissed me softly. Sometimes I forgot how happy this made me.

Once we were both sufficiently, uhh, kissed, I guess, we just sat, my head on his shoulder, his hand rustling through my hair.

"I got a letter today."

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh. Was about your dad."

"Mm."

"..."

"What did it say?"

"It just said he was coming and to not treat him like a hero or anyone unordinary."

"Yeah, that makes sense."

"Now I know how everyone knew a farmer was coming before I arrived."

"Yeah, Lewis sends out letters for everything. Festivals, new arrivals, you name it. I guess there's no better way to make sure people know what or who iss coming."

"Right...You know, I almost didn't come here."

"Really? Well, I guess that makes sense. I mean, you left everything behind."

"Yeah, don't wanna toot my own horn, but it took a lot of guts. I was really scared. Saying goodbye to everything I knew, coming to an entirely new place. Up until the moment I left I was having second thoughts. But I knew I had to go and get life. Hiding in the city, scared, running from what I really wanted but was too afraid to admit, that was no way to live."

"...You don't regret it, right?"

"Are you kidding? This is the best thing I've ever done. Living here for a few seasons has made me happier than all the time I spent in the city. Plus, you're here. I don't know where I'd be if I never met you."

Sam glowed again. "Me either. I'm glad you came. God, I really am. Now that I actually have someone, it's just, life is, you know, so...you know what I mean."

"Of course."

"..."

"So, are you more excited to see your dad again?"

"Yeah, I get more excited each day. But I also get more nervous."

I stared blankly at the lake. "Do you, uhh, do you know what you'll say about...about us?"

Sam stared in much the same way. "No. Not at all."

"Well, he'll have to know eventually."

I saw Sam tense up and start to panic as the inevitability sunk in. There really was no escape. He had to face this.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I'll be right there with you. You'll always have me. Always. I mean it. Your family might reject you, but, Sam, I will always love you."

Sam sputtered out his mouth as silent tears escaped his eyes. "God, why do I always cry?"

"C'mere." I embraced Sam. He let out a stifled sob after burying his head in my chest. I rubbed his back, doing my best to soothe him. This poor kid.

Kent's arrival was, as was requested, unceremonious. I heard next to nothing, besides Pierre mentioning it to me when I visited his shop. Just a quick little "Kent's back," "Oh, good," "Nice guy," kind of thing. And while the rest of the town was calm and collected, as always, I knew Sam was anything but. He had let me know that he'd be spending the day with his dad. That made sense. Of course, I couldn't help but anxiously await a text all day just to at least know how things were going. Fortunately, I did eventually receive some news.

"hey, whatcha up to?" I read the text in Sam's voice.

"just waiting around. how's your dad?"

"different. but he's definitely still himself."

"no trouble so far, though?"

"nope. we'll work out a plan soon."

I replied with a quick "gotcha" and turned my phone off. Sam had said he talked with his mom and that they had agreed to not tell Kent anything until later. Later to Jodi meant until they had "gotten through this," as she put it, and later to Sam meant indefinitely until he could figure out a good way to break the news.

I fell backwards across my bed, fingers interlocked and pinning my phone to my chest. I let out a large sigh I hadn't realized I'd been holding in. The moon was out tonight. Even her visage appeared truer in the valley than the city. The pure night air magnified her glow, and beams of moonlight pervaded the atmosphere. She shone through my window, offering solace to my tired soul. I embraced it willfully. What an odd friend the moon is; waning, waxing, never making up her mind. Yet even in the darkest of nights, with no sound or disruptions around, the knowledge of her presence reminds us of our smallness. My phone buzzed, and I fell asleep texting Sam about the future.

The next day, Jodi and Abigail sat on opposite sides of a small, circular table in the Stardrop Saloon. Emily, carrying a tray with two steaming cups of coffee, set two drinks down, nodded in response to other two's thanks, and made her way back behind the counter. You were allowed to pick where you sat at the Saloon, and Abigail made sure to pick a table far out of earshot of Gus, Emily, and the other patrons. Just in case.

"Thanks so much for coming, Abigail. I really missed this."

"Of course!"

"No, really. Sometimes I worry about there being two distinct generations in this town...like, you young people never seem to want anything to do with us older folk."

"Oh, Jodi, you're not old!" Perfect, Abigail complimented herself mentally.

"Well, I wouldn't-...I mean, you got that right!" The two laughed.

"But yeah, I know what you mean. I mean, I feel out of touch with my parents." Time to ring her in, thought Abigail.

"Oh, that's too bad. I'm sure Sam would say the same thing...Not to bring up a touchy subject! It's just..."

"No, no, it's totally fine, we're cool now. But, between you and me, you're not wrong. Sam told me plenty of stuff he said he hasn't shared with you."

Jodi's eyes narrowed and the sides of her mouth curled up. "Like what?"

Abigail furrowed her eyebrows, taking careful precaution to not seem disapproving but instead sly.

"Not to pry, of course! He said it in confidence, what am I saying. My own son!" Jodi said with shame.

Abigail was losing her. "No, it's okay, it's totally normal. He probably wouldn't even mind, honestly."

"You think so?"

"For sure. And besides, who says he'll ever find out?"

"I mean, I guess you're right...but it still feels like a breach of privacy..."

Abigail stared through Jodi. "Hasn't Sam ever kept something from you, and when you found out, you wished he had just told you? Isn't it better for loved ones to know important things about each other?"

Jodi, who kept a concerned look, nodded and spoke, "I guess you're right. Well, what is it?"

Finally, Abigail's opportunity. She spills the beans now, an emotionally-charged Jodi goes home, tells Ken, and the irate Ken tracks down the farmer who's corrupted his good Catholic son, tears him to pieces, and Abigail gets to swoop into save the broken-hearted Sam. She almost felt bad, but this opportunity was too perfect to pass up. She just had to say this in the right way.

"Well, you know the farmer, (m/n)?"

Jodi's expression changed from intrigue to disappointment, remembering her son's "relationship" (Jodi would never dignify it as such). "Yes. And how he's contacted my son in an...unorthodox way."

Abigail's face went blank. Jodi had danced around it, but it was clear. She already knew. Her eye reflexively twitched. No matter! This doesn't matter! Sam may be one step ahead here, but there's still Kent. Kent is the important part. She still has the upper hand.

"So you know?"

"He at least told me that...I'm surprised, though, how did you know?"

Abigail started to panic. How could she say how she knew without exposing herself? "I, uh...well, Sam and I still talk. We're still really good friends, actually." Abigail didn't want to dig herself into a deeper hole, but she had to at this point.

"Oh, well that's really nice. I...I hate to say it, but I hope you haven't been supportive...I mean, I hope you haven't encouraged their...you know...unnatural..."

"Well...no, I haven't...but..."

"God, what am I saying? He's my own son and I can't even come to terms with...with the fact...th-that..."

"...Jodi...it's okay...you're not wrong, you just care. It's okay to care. It's good."

"...Thank you, Abigail..."

"..."

"..."

"So...does Kent know?

"What?'

Abigail thought she might be taking it too fast. Oh, well. She had built up a bit of a buffer. "I mean, not that he should, but it seems important..."

"No, that's the last thing I want to mention to him."

"Really? Why?"

"Well...Kent is...abrasive. And...intolerant. And he has a short temper. Believe me, I don't like what's happening. But if Kent knew. Let's just say...after all that he's been through and everything that's changed, putting him through that could put a lot of things at risk." Jodi looked genuinely worried. And Abigail saw this worry, and she felt it. She felt it truly. Could she really go through with this? Was it worth it? Her plan had certainly failed, but, after hearing that, Abigail wasn't sure if she wanted her plan to succeed.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart, it's perfectly reasonable to assume..." Jodi stopped before finishing her sentence, realizing how it was kind of hypocritical for her to hide this from Kent when Sam had been so frank with her. She continued on another line of thought, "Well, I figure I'll just wait for Sam to be ready to talk about it. It really is his business, after all." Another dagger to Abigail. She really was trying to destroy a part of Sam's life so she could be happy. Is that messed up? Probably, Abigail thought. But it's not her fault. Sam deserved it. That stupid farmer deserved it. But it is their lives and she was trying to...well, not ruin them, but significantly disrupt them, for sure.

"That's a good way of looking at it." Abigail was beyond checked out of the conversation after that. All of a sudden, her misgivings flooded her. After seeing Sam's mom so worried about her son—how, even if she couldn't bring her principles to align with his lifestyle, she still realized that it wasn't anyone's place to intervene unless Sam wanted it—well, Abigail realized that maybe she was the irrational one. It wasn't fair, the way she'd been treated throughout all this, but if Sam was happy, that should make her happy. And it hurts to let go, and Abigail knew it would take a long time to get over this, but she wanted to do what was right.

So the two finished their coffee, got up, said their goodbyes, and headed to their respective homes. Abigail walked with her chin up. She couldn't feel proud of herself; in fact, she was ashamed she had almost done something so heinous. She was just too caught up in the past, her desire to love and be loved again overcame her, and she was prepared to hurt others to get it. But if her breakup with Sam taught her anything, it's that other people's happiness shouldn't be outweighed by one's own unequivocally. Sam was happy, and though she was unhappy, it's not fair for her to ruin Sam's happiness in a vain attempt to alter reality.

And, frankly, that should've been the end of it. In a fair world, that would be the end of it. But if there's anything else to be learned from Sam and Abigail's breakup, it's that life isn't fair. So when Abigail heard a shout—a visceral, enraged shout—erupt from the direction of Sam's house, she sensed the worst. She froze in the town square. The anger of an unfamiliar voice shook her, especially considering the four words which constituted that shout: No son of mine.