Chapter Text
Menolly (Year 0, Winter)
The cursor blinked, taunting her. Yet another spreadsheet. And of course, the numbers didn’t add up the way they were supposed to. She had checked her formulas, but nothing appeared to be wrong. Menolly rubbed her temples in frustration, reminding herself that she was one warning away from being out on the street. Outside of her partition walls, the office hummed with chatter and electronic devices. Her cubicle mates were all working on different projects. She knew nothing about them aside from maybe a name. No one had time to socialize. It was frowned upon by corporate regulations.
When she’d taken the job with Joja Corporation over a year ago, she’d thought it would be an easy way to make some cash while searching for another job. Unfortunately, all of her leads went nowhere, and if she did get an interview, she never made it past the second round. What was meant to have been temporary was becoming permanent, and, at 24 years old, she felt like she was running out of options and would be stuck until she retired.
That was, of course, if she didn’t end up fired first.
She’d been written up the week before for missing the deadline on an important project. Of course, every project was deemed important and usually given an impossible deadline to match. You’re one more slip-up from termination, Menolly. This is your final warning, her manager had told her, a bit too gleefully.
Menolly had wanted to shout back at him that the deadlines were impossible to make and that the workload was far too much for just one person to handle. She didn’t, though, tamping down on her anger and merely nodding politely. Then she’d gone back to her cubicle and gotten back to work like nothing had ever happened.
Outside of work, her personal life wasn’t much better. Menolly’s now ex-girlfriend had left her the week before. Jess had wanted Menolly to apply for an executive position that would give her a promotion and a pay raise. Menolly had tried to explain that she wasn’t even qualified for the listed position, much less interested in it. She already felt like she was drowning in her current position, and she didn’t think a different one in the company would be any better. Jess hadn’t listened; instead, she told her that she was lazy and unmotivated to do better.
Jess only wanted to get a bigger place, but Menolly was perfectly content with the small apartment they had shared. It was in a decent part of the city, close to their favorite places, and felt cozy. However, Jess found fault with every inch of the place. The things that Menolly loved, she, of course, hated. Cozy meant too small. A decent part of town didn’t mean the wealthy part of town. Suited their needs meant it was missing modern amenities… The list went on.
Eventually, Jess had left, fed up and frustrated with Menolly. Honestly, it had been a breath of fresh air when she walked out the door. However, that didn’t take away the sting of yet another relationship ending. None of her relationships had ever lasted all that long. There was always something wrong with her, or she had to pick a woman who turned out to still be closeted, even if she swore she wasn’t.
The ding of the 5 PM bell startled Menolly out of her thoughts. She began shutting down her workspace and cleaning up. The report could wait until tomorrow. Perhaps with fresher eyes, it would finally make sense. Menolly doubted that, but one could always hope. She entered the chaos of the rest of her floor, leaving for the day, and hoped that it wouldn’t take too long to get home.
By the time she made it home, it was well after dark. The building had been crowded with the exodus of the day workers, and then the subway had broken down two stops down from her stop. She had groaned and then waited over an hour before things were fixed and running again. Menolly tossed her keys in the basket by the door and then walked over to the couch, sinking gratefully into it.
There really has to be a better answer out there, Menolly thought as she ran her fingers through her short red locks. She was stuck in a dead-end job that she’d most likely be fired from soon. She had no future job prospects at other companies. Her love life was down the toilet, and she wasn’t ready to trust another woman again so easily.
Suddenly, she remembered. Her grandpa had given her a letter when he’d passed away. She’d been told not to open it unless she needed a change. At the time, she’d been too upset and simply tossed it in her desk drawer, where it had been forgotten. Spurred on by the thought, she went to her desk and opened the center drawer. It took a few moments of rummaging through papers, pens, rubber bands, and the random staple, but she finally located the letter at the bottom of the pile, still sealed in the envelope. She tore into it and then began to read.
My dearest Menolly,
If you're reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.
The same thing happened to me, long ago. I'd lost sight of what mattered most in life... real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong.
I’ve enclosed the deed to that place, my old farmstead. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.
This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honor the family name, my girl. Good luck.
Love,
Grandpa
P.S. If Lewis is still alive, say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?
Menolly sat down in her desk chair, trying to process what she’d just read. A farm? Grandpa had given her land with a farm on it, and it was hers if she wanted it. She tried to picture herself as a farmer, but failed miserably. She didn’t know the first thing about farming! Menolly could barely keep plants alive in her apartment. How was she supposed to run a farm?
And yet… It sounded enticing.
She put the letter down and made her way to the kitchen to prepare herself dinner. Life wasn’t going the way she planned right now, but was she truly in dire need of a change? Farming and corporate office work weren’t exactly related, and Menolly doubted that any of her skills would transfer. She decided to think about it.
Turns out, thinking about it was decided for her. The next day, Menolly was terminated from her position. Her supervisor’s words rang in my ears. Poor performance on recent evaluations. No improvement after previous warning. Termination effective immediately. She was directed to clean out her cubicle and evacuate the premises ASAP.
Menolly stuffed all her work belongings in a small box and carried it through the rows of cubicles, an office worker’s walk of shame. Heads glanced up as she passed, but no one said a word. They just might be one of the next ones to go.
The box of items was tossed in the dumpster outside of her apartment. She had no use for any of it. Menolly needed a new plan, and fast. It was then that she remembered the letter and its contents.
Dire change… yeah, that sounds about right…
Really, what did she have to lose? At this point, anything sounded better than the life she was currently leading.
And so Menolly made up her mind to take on the farm and move to Stardew Valley. She spent the rest of winter preparing for her move. She put in her notice with her landlord, began packing up her meager belongings, and began studying everything she could get her hands on about being a farmer and farming. Menolly researched Stardew Valley and the little town she’d live in- Pelican Town.
Here’s to hoping that farming and farm living suit me better than corporate office work and city living!
Abigail (Year 0, Winter 25)
The morning of the Feast of the Winter Star dawned crisp and bright. A fresh blanket of snow coated the ground, perfect for building snowgoons and tossing snowballs. Abigail woke sometime before mid-morning, lavender hair splayed across her pillow. She’d planned to enjoy her day off from work and college, but she’d also stayed up well beyond midnight last night playing Journey of the Prairie King .
She sat up, rubbing blearily at her eyes before looking out her window at the white world beyond. When she was younger, she’d always woken up before her parents, racing them to the living room to see what gifts Santa had brought. Her mom had sipped tea on the couch, and her father had snapped photos of her opening her gifts. After gifts, they’d all head to the town square for the Feast of the Winter Star. Her mom would bring along a dish she’d prepared, and her dad would set up a stall to sell his remaining winter goods before spring.
Sighing, Abigail slipped from her bed and began to dress. Those years were long gone. Her family didn’t really celebrate the holiday anymore. She wasn’t a little kid, and she’d grown up to be the child with weird interests, ones that her parents preferred to pretend were phases or childish notions. She pulled the sweater over her head and then placed her favorite hairbow in her hair. On went her boots over her jeans. She grabbed her dark grey winter coat for later. It was her favorite because it buttoned around her neck and kept the cold out.
As she made her way to the kitchen, she could hear her parents talking in low tones. They didn’t sound happy about whatever it was they were discussing. Abigail didn’t want to know. “Good morning!” she called out as she walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Abigail. Happy Winter Star!” Her mom gave her a warm smile, a mug of tea held between her hands. “Sleep well?”
“As well as I could,” Abigail replied. She moved to the counter, where a plate of fresh pancakes sat, along with some eggs and bacon. She poured herself a glass of milk before taking a seat at the table.
“She was probably up late again playing those video games,” remarked Pierre, stabbing a fork into a plate of pancakes in front of him. “Hopefully, you don’t plan on doing that once the new semester starts.”
Abigail almost rolled her eyes at her dad, but her mom glared at her before she could. She began cutting her pancakes into smaller bites. “Not planning to, Dad. Just enjoying my break.”
“I hope you realize that I expect you to finish out the year helping me in the store since you have so much free time,” he replied, pointing his forkful of pancake in her direction.
It was easier not to reply. Replying would often rile him up, and then he’d start in on lecturing her about “the plan”. That was the last thing she wanted to hear about today. She wanted to forget the store for just a bit, but her dad apparently had other ideas.
Thankfully, the plan was still a couple of years away. Abigail tucked into her breakfast, thankful for small miracles. Once she graduated from college, she was expected to begin taking over the store from Pierre. Eventually, it would be hers to run and pass on to her own child. Pierre had built the store from the ground up after he and Caroline had moved to Stardew Valley. It was his pride and joy, and he expected her to feel the same way about it.
Except… she didn’t.
Sure, when she was younger, she had liked the idea of owning the shop and running it. But when you’re a kid, lots of adult things are shiny and enticing. Then you grow up and you see all the tarnish that the shine hides. This had been the case with the store. Abigail had learned she hated the day-to-day minutiae of running the general store. She hated bookkeeping and tracking inventory. She hated looking at stock and ordering new items. The only thing she didn’t always mind was helping the customers. Well, most customers. It really depended on who she was assisting.
Unfortunately, her parents hadn’t given her a say in whether or not she’d run the shop after college graduation. Even going to college had come with conditions. Her only choice was to get a business administration degree, or she wouldn’t have been allowed to go at all. She’d taken the deal because it meant she could put off having to take over the store, but eventually that buffer would end. Business administration wasn’t the most glamorous degree by far, but she’d take what she could get.
However, if you asked her what she would prefer to do instead, Abigail didn’t have an answer. Yes, she loved video games, music, playing her flute, and learning about the caves and monsters that dwelled within, but none of those would pan out into a feasible career, much less one that would be approved by her parents. So she was stuck and preferred not to think about the future too much.
An hour or so after breakfast, her family made their way to the town square, which was set up for the Feast of the Winter Star. Tables were spread out, decked in red tablecloths, and piled high with food. Large plastic candy canes dotted the snowy landscape around the square. Garland and lights were strung about, and there, of course, was the large Winter Star tree, presents spread beneath it.
Pierre split off from them, heading to his stall. Abigail followed her mom to their usual table and watched as she set a covered platter of salmon cakes down. Abigail rubbed her hands together for warmth before spotting Sam and Sebastian near the big igloo. Caroline also spotted them. “Go spend time with your friends, Abigail. Just come back here when it’s time to eat.”
Without a word, Abigail left the table and joined Sam and Sebastian. The three fell into their usual banter and teasing, and Abigail felt like she could breathe a little easier, at least for a while. Sam talked about the new guitar his mom had given him, and Sebastian discussed how his mom and dad had had a small argument earlier in the morning.
Their circle was interrupted when Jodi approached the group, bringing Sam’s little brother Vincent with her. “Sam, can you please keep an eye on him for a little while?” She pushed Vincent toward Sam and walked off without another word.
Sam groaned as Vincent tugged on his shirt, wanting to throw snowballs with his big brother. Vincent began to whine since Sam wasn’t listening to him.
Abigail knelt down to Vincent’s level. “Wanna hear a cool story about a boy who goes and fights monsters in the caves?”
Vincent’s eyes lit up, and he nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”
So Abigail told him about a fearless adventurer who descended into the mines looking for hidden treasure. He fought all kinds of monsters in his path, and even got trapped a time or two. He carried a trusty sword and was able to slay any monster in his path. Vincent hung onto her every word.
However, when Abigail glanced across the square halfway through her story, she saw her dad frowning at her and knew he’d heard every word. She stumbled over the next part of the story, but Vincent didn’t seem to notice. He clapped his hands when she was finished.
Later during the feast, Abigail was idly pushing a salmon cake around her plate, her appetite gone. Her dad leaned close. “Abigail,” he said in a low tone, “don’t you think it’s time to stop acting like a kid? Stories and fantasies won’t serve you when you’re running the store one day. You need to grow up and prepare yourself.”
Abigail stabbed at her salmon cake in response. She could feel her anger rising, and refused to say anything more than, “Sure, Dad.” He never listens or tries to understand. No one does. She glanced over at her mom, who was pretending she hadn’t heard her husband. I wish I could meet someone who would actually get me, she thought. They wouldn’t find me childish or strange, and they’d take the time to understand.
“Abigail?”
She turned to find Jas standing by her seat, holding up a small red present. “I got you this.”
Abigail took the present from her and began unwrapping it. Inside lay a small, ancient doll. She took it out of the box, smiling at the young girl. “Thank you,” she replied. “It’s adorable.”
Jas grinned up at her. “Vincent said you liked weird things. And I had this and thought you’d really like it.”
“I do! Do you think it’s haunted?” Abigail asked with a grin.
“Maybe,” replied Jas. “How can you find out?”
“Abigail…” warned her mom. “Don’t scare her.”
Deflating, Abigail gave Jas a soft smile. “It’s probably not, but it’s fun to think about.”
By the time Abigail and her parents trudged the short distance home from the festival, Abigail had forgotten all about her wish from earlier in the day. Instead, she was focused on crawling into her warm bed and getting enough sleep before working in the general store the next day. Thank goodness the year was almost at an end.