Chapter Text
The first morning her alarm rang through the tiny cabin, Celia barely remembered where she was. It was the scent that situated her. It was faint, but the familiar smell of her grandfather’s home still lingered in the air, almost as an afterthought.
Sitting up in the bed, the faint light of dawn filtered through the single window, allowing her to survey her modest surroundings. A fireplace, a TV, a table and a bed weren’t much to live off of. She let a sigh escape her as she remembered what the farmhouse used to look like. Time had eaten away at the place, a fallen tree taking down the master bedroom after her grandfather’s passing and a leak in the roof ruining the kitchen that one time her grandfather had taken the week off to visit her and her dad in Zuzu City.
It pained her to imagine him, living all alone on all that farmland during these last few years. She wished she’d visited more often. That she’d written to him more. That she’d taken him up on his invitation to come down for the Night Market last winter, because he remembered how much it fascinated her as a child. Feeling an onset of tears prickle her eyes, she got out of bed and busied herself before she fell into yet another spiral of guilt and regret.
She’d brought very little along with her, having widely miscalculated all that she would need. Reaching into her bag that she’d tossed at the end of her bed, she pulled out one of three pairs of denim overalls she’d bought for her new life. Now that she was here, they felt too obvious. Painfully aware she’d gotten them to compensate for her lack of farming expertise, hoping to at least look the part, she slid them on over a long-sleeved white henley. Was tying only one strap too much, or did it make her look more laid-back? Praying for the latter, she shifted her attention to braiding her hair into pigtails.
Not owning a full-sized mirror yet, she hoped she looked nice enough to make a good first impression on the townsfolk. She’d stayed on the farm after arriving the day before, making a go at trying to clear out a patch of dirt to plant seeds in and cutting a few trees to have some wood to work with. She was already sore from the little work she’d gotten done, and had managed to earn herself huge blisters on the palms of her hands.
She planned on heading into town early to score a few supplies at the general store. Gloves would have to be added to the list, it seemed. At the thought of the store, her stomach grumbled, becoming aware that her dinner the previous evening had consisted of unseasoned leek and mushroom cooked up on the portable grill she’d had the clarity to bring.
Looking at the time on her alarm clock, she saw it was way too early still to be headed into town; everything would be closed. Turning the TV on, she let herself get engrossed into the current episode of Livin’ off the Land, which was showing how to hoe dirt, fertilize it and plant seeds in it the most effective way. She listened very intently.
A half hour later, she decided it was high time she stepped outside. She figured if she went to town through the forest, she’d get to the store right after it had opened. As she opened her door, she couldn’t help but smile as the crisp morning air made her cheeks flush. She could smell the pine trees and the dewy grass on the wind. This is why I’m here, she thought.
Invigorated, she headed south, assessing how much clearing up was still to be done. It was a lot, enough to deflate her optimism a bit. Trying to shake the dread away, she stepped off of her new land and into the forest.
She heard a door slam shut ahead. She wasn’t the only early bird in the Valley, it seemed. Curiosity getting the better of her, she quickened her pace until Marnie’s Ranch came into full view. A silhouette, a man by all means of observation, was heading for the town when the door of the Ranch opened .
“Uncle Shane, you forgot your wallet!” a tiny girl shouted, waving said wallet around above her head as she ran towards him.
The man stopped in his tracks and turned around to meet her halfway. Celia couldn’t hear what he told her, but did see him ruffle her hair before heading back for the town hurriedly. She had made it to the front of the ranch when she came to stand ahead of the little girl who was skipping back home. She stopped in her tracks when she noticed her, her whole demeanor changing.
“Hi there,” Celia tried with a smile. “What’s your name, sweet pea?”
The little girl stayed muted, looking at her apprehensively. Celia tried not to fret it.
“I’m Celia,” she introduced herself instead, holding out her hand. “I just moved here.”
She stared at her a few seconds more.
“I really like the bow in your hair,” she kept on trying, unsure why she wasn’t just leaving the child alone.
“Aunt Marnie says I shouldn’t talk to strangers,” she finally said.
As if on cue, the door of the ranch opened, Marnie stepping out.
“Jas, come finish your breakfast now!” she called out before spotting them by the cattle fence.
Jas, not needing to be told twice, sprinted for the door, leaving Celia out to dry. Served her right, trying to introduce herself to a child first out of anyone in town.
“Heya there, don’t believe we’ve met,” Marnie called, walking towards her now. “Lewis, erm, I mean the Mayor told me someone new was moving into town, any chance that might be you?”
“Hi,” Celia smiled, relieved to finally see a familiar face. “We’ve actually met before, not sure if you’d remember me? I’m Celia Faulkner, Harold Faulkner’s granddaughter.”
A look of recognition dawned on Marnie’s face.
“Oh but of course! How did I not see it?” Marnie exclaimed, a wide grin spreading from cheek to cheek. “Oh let me look at you, how you’ve grown! What a gorgeous young woman you are now,” she said appreciatively, instinctively cupping Celia’s face with her hands before letting go. “How long has it been since you’ve been here last?"
“I believe I was thirteen last time you saw me,” Celia laughed, leaning on the fence. “It’s great seeing you again after so long.”
“Goodness, 10 years,” Marnie whispered. “Hold on, are you here to take the reins of Thornwood?”
Celia nodded. “My grandpa left it to me after passing,” she explained quietly. “Not sure if I’ll be any good at it, but I figured I owed it to him and to myself to at least try.”
“I really hope it all works out for you then,” Marnie smiled warmly. “If you ever want to take up raising animals, you just let me know. Chickens aren’t much trouble at all.”
“Well, I’ll start by planting some seeds and see how it goes,” Celia chuckled. “But I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”
Marnie smiled as she kept examining her, and Celia could detect a hint of worry in her eyes.
“Listen, I gotta go back to Jas in there,” she gestured to her home, “But I want you to know if you ever get lonely up there all by yourself, you’re welcome here anytime, okay?”
“Thanks Marnie,” Celia replied feeling herself get a bit emotional. “It means a lot.”
“Alright then, enjoy your day and best of luck with the farm,” Marnie said as she gave her a quick hug.
Celia waved her goodbye and resumed her walk into town, smiling to herself. It felt incredibly good to know at least one person in town seemed to genuinely care for her well-being. She hadn’t fully appreciated how isolating moving here on her own would be, and in that moment she was ever grateful for Marnie’s warm disposition.
Walking into town, Celia saw from the names on the mailboxes that there were some new people in town since she’d last came. There might be more people to meet for the first time than she’d expected.
Breathing in and out deeply to shed the creeping anxiety, she walked on the the town square. Like a woman on a mission, she headed straight for Pierre’s only to find the door would not open when she grabbed its handle. Confused, she checked out the opening hours inscribed on a plaque by the door and cursed under her breath. She could’ve sworn Lewis had told her the shops opened at 8, not 9. Glancing at her watch, she saw that she had twenty minutes to spare.
“Great,” she muttered under her breath.
Hoping to keep herself distracted, she started examining the help wanted board. Apparently some woman named Jodi needed a fish she wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for. She wondered if Willy was still around. He could probably help her get her footing where it came to the local fish.
Her attention then shifted to the calendar. She was surprised to see birthdays were marked there for all to see. She wondered if she should scribble in her own, and frowned when she saw something was already written on that day. Realization dawned on her; she’d forgotten the Flower Dance was a thing, and more importantly that it fell on her birthday. Younger, she mostly visited her grandfather during the summer and the winter, but he’d invited her for her eleventh birthday to come down and celebrate it at the Flower Dance.
She smiled at the memory. In hindsight, she was aware she was just entering an awkward phase at that age, braces and unruly hair to top it off, but she remembered how pretty she’d felt in her sundress and how she’d blushed with delight when the boy who lived with his grandparents whose name escaped her, a year or two older than her, had danced with her for a song. Even back then, she’d had the nagging feeling he’d been prompted by his grandma, but she’d chosen to willfully ignore it.
After having read everything, she glanced back at her watch and sighed. Less than five minutes had passed. Not knowing what else to do, she crouched to sit down, back against the shop. Confident no one was around to hear her, she hummed quietly along with a song she couldn’t remember that played in the back of her mind.
Walking through the forest she’d glaned a handful of daffodils and had put them in the pockets of her overalls. Perhaps they’d brighten up the cabin. She plucked one from her pocket and toyed with its stem, twirling it between her fingers to create a draft of its delicate smell.
Startling her into a gasp, the door to the clinic next door opened, the chime of a bell accompanying it. Out came a man, older than her and sporting a coat the same hue as the stem of the daffodil she was holding. Seeing her sat there startled him as well, spilling some of his coffee onto the ground as his other hand reflexively reached towards his chest.
Off to a great start, she internally assessed.