Chapter 1: Spring, Year 1
Chapter Text
Spring 1, Year 1
The Saloon was busy on that first night, crowded with both noise and aroma. Willy and Clint sat at their rickety table in gruff and occasional discussion. Marnie and Mayor Lewis sat close to one another, their voices a quiet hum in the din. Gus and Emily ran up and down the bar, pouring ale and wiping up spills. Shane sat by the ever-burning fireplace, his full attention on his beer – across the bar from Pam, who knew that for the best service one needed to sit by the register. Robin and Demetrius had been and gone after a few duke box-induced dances. Dr Harvey and Pierre shared a bottle of shiraz at the counter, decompressing after their work days. The crowd spilled into the arcade area: Sebastian, Sam and Abigail played their usual, rowdy game of pool while Hayley watched, a little disinterested, as Alex tried to beat his Pac Man high score with little success. And then there was Leah and Elliott, at their usual table left of the bar, sitting in comfortable quiet as they so often did. They liked observing their fellow townsfolk – Leah a woman of few words; Elliott a man of language who, by the end of a busy day spent writing, had run dry. They were comfortable enough in one another’s company that words were not always necessary. Two kindred spirits in this eclectic, eccentric little township. This crowd, though not an unusual group, was not expected on a Monday night. But there was gossip to be spread, and, naturally, this was the best place for it.
After a few moments of watching Clint watch Emily as she chatted with Harvey across the bar, Leah blinked a few times, turning to Elliott once again. “So, have you met her yet?” She asked, before taking a long draw from her ale. The foam remained on her lip, and Elliott smiled, running a finger over his own upper lip. Leah got the hint and wiped at her mouth, and he returned to the question, “Hmm? Met who?”
“The new farmer. She arrived today.”
A new farmer? He’d heard something about that a week or so ago, but wasn’t sure how much stock to put into the rumour. He was always so out of the loop when it came to news around the town. “Well, I have to confess, I wasn’t aware that the farmer had arrived yet – and I was even less aware that she’d be… a she,” Elliott admitted.
“Chauvinist,” Leah smirked, no venom in her words.
“Have you met her? It’s been so long since I walked past Honey Bell – is it a lot of work?”
Leah lived south of the long-abandoned Honey Bell Farm, and nodded solemnly. “It’s a mess. She has her work cut out for her, for sure. I met her in passing today. She inherited the property, she told me. No farming experience at all. Ari, her name is. She seems really sweet.”
Of course, Leah was eternally optimistic about most people, but Elliott trusted his friend’s judgement. “Well, I look forward to meeting her. I hope everyone she’s encountered so far has been welcoming.” His eyes scanned the room as he said this. He’d felt at home in the Valley for a while now, but he remembered when he was new to town, and meeting people for the first time was a little rough. The people here – most of the people here – were lovely, albeit eccentric. Himself included, he had no doubt. Coupled with the fact that their beloved Pelican Town didn’t offer much in the way of tourism, first impressions could be tough. There wasn’t a lot of opportunity for the locals to mingle. In a way, it was a nice thing: it made for a close-knit community. In other ways, it could feel a little too insular. Everyone would be happy for the new resident, Elliott was sure. While he was considering this, Haley and Abigail made their way over to the table, pulling up stools. Haley, in particular, was always well honed-in on gossip.
“Are you talking about the farmer girl? I heard she worked for Joja Corporate and had a breakdown at her desk.” Haley flipped her blonde hair back as her face lit up – being the bearer of any kind of news was a special delight for her.
“How could you possibly know that in one day? You barely said hello to her when she introduced herself,” Abigail chided before adding, “I kind of remember her grandfather from when I was young… Dad says he was a nice guy, but needed to leave the Valley for family reasons…” This was consistent with what Leah had been telling him – she’d inherited the huge property west of the main town.
From that moment, the theories flew fast and became increasingly non-sensical as the evening turned to night, and Elliott bid his friends farewell before pulling on his coat and heading out the Saloon door. Outside, the air was cool and crisp on his face, instantly derailing his long auburn hair. He made his careful way down the Saloon steps, feeling merry. A dark figure was standing outside the building on the cobblestones, the only light a tiny orange glow from the lit cigarette in his hand.
“How are you, Shane?” Elliott smiled. There were only two regular smokers in town, and Sebastian was still inside arguing with Sam about their last round of pool. Shane grunted in response as Elliott stepped towards him, close enough now to see him better, but not so close that he’d have to smell the smoke. He tried again. “Seems like the whole town is abuzz with the news of this Ari character – have you met her?” His cheeks felt warm from the ale. Shane shrugged. “Met her today.”
So she’d met Haley and Shane today – tough start to things, if he was being calloused. They weren’t exactly the designated welcoming committee. Something in Elliott seemed to sag, but he pushed the feeling down. He hadn’t even met this farmer, but making her feel welcome mattered to him, somehow. Pride he didn’t know he possessed in the town? Or something more innate? Leah would have called it kindness, and he would have blushed and redirected the conversation. But Leah was still inside, so Elliott didn’t quite access this line of thinking. It had taken him a while to find his feet in the Valley, and the first year in particular had been tough. He’d been here a bit over two years now, and felt he had a handle on the place, but he didn’t want this Ari to suffer the same fate and flounder for months on end like he had. He didn’t particularly want to feel this uncomfortable responsibility over her – it was absurd. Leah had said she was friendly enough, of course, so he could bet money that he’d like the famer, once he got to know her. But he had enough on his mind, right now, and shook the thoughts from his head. He had to leave before he could think on it any longer. “Well, Happy New Year, Shane. Have a good night,” Elliott smiled. Shane grimaced. Back to his little cabin on the beach he went.
Spring 6, Year 1
Elliott gazed out at the crashing waves, breathing in the salt brine of the sea. He could never get bored of this seascape, so very perfect for his writing breaks. He’d really lucked out with the ocean view. This morning he’d spent three hours hunched over his desk, puzzling over the leading characters of his long-time work in progress, Camellia Station. All that time, and he was only truly happy with one paragraph, in truth. He just could not seem to perfectly capture his leading lady perfectly. For the life of him, he couldn’t transfer her imagined charm onto the page. A break was in order. His long legs carried him down to the pier, the sun his welcome company to counter the bracing breeze. He’d sit here for a few minutes – ten, maybe twenty – before getting back to work.
Elliott sat, legs dangling over the side of the pier, his face to the sun with his eyes closed. The Spring weather was so welcome after the frosty Winter they’d had in the Valley. He was so relaxed that when he heard footsteps on the jetty, he startled, heart thumping against his ribcage as he turned his head towards the sound. Another start when he didn’t recognise the young woman coming towards him, partially silhouetted, and he scrambled to stand up gracelessly. By the time she reached him, he felt a warm blush colouring his cheeks. First impressions were important to Elliott, so why did he feel like such a buffoon?
As he suspected, he was finally meeting Ari, the city-slicker-turned-novice-farmer now confronting the mammoth task of restoring Honey Bell Farm back to its legendary glory. This was before his time, of course – he’d only known the farm as an utter wreck. He was surprised when his voice came out confident and calm – entirely opposed to how he felt inside. “Ah, you must be Ari. Forgive me, you startled me. I’ve been wondering when we might meet – I was starting to feel like the last person in Pelican Town to come across the elusive farmer. I was starting to think I’d done something wrong,” he smiled down at her.
He had her laughing, the sound as sweet and merry as Winterfest Bells. “No, no! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I’ve been busy trying to meet everyone! Figuring out where everyone lives and works has been a headache!” She smiled up at him, and Elliott wished he could take a photograph of the moment. Quick as he could, he took stock of the farmer before him on the dock. Keen observance was important, as a writer. She was young, very young. Maybe twenty? Twenty-two? He wondered what could make someone with so many prospects turn in city life for the country so early. Then again, he’d done the same thing, hadn’t he? She was shorter than him – most people tended to be. She had skin the colour of a warm latte and rosy cheeks, dark eyes and darker hair. She wore a stiff sunhat with her white blouse and denim jeans. Her clothes looked new, her boots without a scuff mark yet. She was a total beginner, and he found himself admiring her grit and determination to come and start this new life. He’d have liked if someone had spared a generous thought like that, for him, when he’d first moved to town.
“I’m Elliott – it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. How is Honey Bell Farm fairing? It’s a beautiful, big space,” was all he could think to say. He didn’t need to point out the obvious. Last he spoken to Leah, she’d told him the farm house was entirely dilapidated, splintery and borderline unsafe to live in. The fields were overrun with weeds and debris. The former grandeur of the greenhouse was levelled to the ground. It sounded like a lot of work. Of course, that might mean she’d stay for a while yet. Why was he even thinking about that? He tried to focus on Ari’s response. “It’s going to be a learning curve, for sure. But it’s exciting. I’m looking forward to restoring it to its former glory. I needed the change. I want to make my family proud of the legacy of Honey Bell. You’re welcome to come by any time! I could always use the help pulling weeds!”
“Nothing like a bit of physical labour to clear the mind, is there? And you, visit me whenever you’d like. I live,” he pointed towards his home on the shore, “just over there, in that ramshackle little cabin.”
“I look forward to it,” Ari’s smile lingered as she followed the line of his arm to his shack on the horizon. Elliott felt himself blushing again. In the breeze, her dark hair billowed, and he was suddenly awash with the scents of strawberries and cinnamon. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Why? “Anyway, I better get back to it,” Ari’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. “It was really nice to meet you, Elliott!”
“And you, Ari.” She held out her hand, and he took it in both of his, shaking it with a gentle squeeze.
He watched her retreating figure as she ascended up the beach, and was struck with a sudden bolt of inspiration: his female protagonist needed deep brown eyes.
Spring 16, Year 1
Persistent would be the best word to describe the town’s newest resident, if one were to ask Shane. In fact, his Aunt Marnie had approached him with a similar question, after she’d seen them chatting in the Saloon last week. “New farmer seems nice,” she mentioned too-casually while cutting carrots in the kitchen one evening. This is why Shane ate at the pub most nights. Though the Saloon wasn’t always safe from Marnie – if Mayor Lewis was there, you could be she would be, too. Shane said nothing, which only encouraged her to try again.
“Ari, isn’t it? She’s pretty, too.”
Shane ignored his Aunt steadfastly. “I can milk the cows in the morning, my shift at Joja isn’t until nine.” Drop it, Marnie. Drop. It.
Marnie would beat him at his own game, though. “I’ve seen the pair of you talking in the Saloon a few times. You making friends?”
She had a knack for speaking to him like he was a child. It was utterly frustrating, but Shane tried his best to keep his cool around his well-meaning Aunt. She did keep a roof over his head, after all. “Sure,” he grunted, eyes scanning over the pages of their budget and expenses. Agreeing with her was usually the best course of action. “Do we need to swap out some of the drying hay tonight? It’s been in front of the fire two days now.”
“Whatever you think, honey.” She dropped the Ari topic, and he felt himself relax.
Nice. Marnie had called her nice. And pretty. Those were true enough. Shane would be stupid not to notice her sunniness and… face. There were other words, too. Beautiful came to mind. Friendly, clever, caring, enthusiastic. All things Shane believed to be the opposite descriptors of himself. But persistent really stuck with him. He turned it over in his mind. She was certainly persistent in her interactions with him – he knew he wasn’t giving her much. That grit, that determination was probably a good thing, for someone taking on that mess of a farm. Honey Bell had been long abandoned, and sometimes Shane brought the goats over for a graze on the weeds. They made quick work of that stuff. He couldn’t do that anymore, of course. It had always been private property, but now it was being actively monitored.
“I’m gonna… head out,” Shane excused himself. Jas had been sat at the table, colouring, and he tousled her hair on the way past. She was one good thing in this world.
“Dinner’s almost ready!” Marnie complained.
Shane was already pulling the packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, holding one between his lips as he left the kitchen. “I’ll be back in five,” he mumbled around the cigarette, and headed out the front door. He stood a good twenty feet from the animals whenever he smoked. They didn’t need to bear the brunt of his awful life choices. After lighting up, he inhaled deeply, sucking in the smoke, letting it roll out his nostrils after a moment. He loved Marnie and Jas, sure, but he relished being alone. He didn’t feel he deserved being surrounded by loved ones all the time. He felt like he was just a series of mistakes and bad decisions, and the least he could do as penance was dwell on these awful truths constantly.
A minute of solace was all he was granted before he heard feet on the forest path. Perhaps their neighbour, Leah, on her way home from the beach? She’d say hello, and leave it there. He’d have to go back inside soon.
But it wasn’t Leah. Making her way up the pine needle path was, the woman of the hour, apparently. Ari. She was lugging a satchel of something. Wild leek, maybe? “Shane! How are you?” She stopped when she reached him. He sighed, dropping and stamping out his cigarette. He’d pick it up after, of course. He didn’t want any animals to ingest it. “Ari,” he gave her a terse nod.
“Want some leeks? I’ve got plenty. Brighten up any meal,” she opened up the satchel for him to have at the foraged goods. He pressed his lips together, a silent decline. A little dejected, the sack of produce dropped to her side. He felt bad, now. “How’s your day been?” he dared to ask her. He didn’t want to see her frowning. He frowned enough for the both of them.
Something about this perked her right up. He realised in that moment that making her happy made him feel… good? And when he’d upset her, he’d felt that inside his chest. This was… new. “Good, good – I think I’ve met just about everyone in town, now! My parsnips are coming along, too. How are the chickens? I’m saving up for a barn so that I can get a couple, too. I have to produce the lumber, though, so I’ve been cutting a lot of wood! I’ll need to you to teach me how to care for them.. The chickens, that is.”
“Why do you bother?” He asked her suddenly.
Ari frowned, confused. “With… chickens?”
“With talking to me.”
“Oh. I like you, Shane.” It was baffling that she was able to just say what was on her mind so freely. He wasn’t sure that he could ever be that way. “I want to be friends. Is that… okay?”
Shane toed the dirt with his beat-up sneaker. “Yeah, fine.” He felt embarrassed now. Exposed. Her vulnerability and openness brought something out in him. How many times had they spoken, now?
“Great. I have to get back to Smooch – she’s waiting for me. Well, she’s probably just waiting for her dinner. But I’ll talk to you soon, yeah?”
Before he could respond, light was flooding where they stood, and Jas’ head was poking out the door to the barn. “Shane, Aunt Marnie says it’s dinner time… oh, hi farmer Ari.”
“Hi, Jas! Did you have a good day with Vincent and Penny at school?”
Shane had to put a stop to this before Marnie came out to have a nose. “See you around, Ari,” he grumbled, picking up his cigarette butt and turning his back on her to usher Jas inside.
He was quiet at dinner. He was quiet always, really, but this time it was because he was deep in thought, rather than because he was trying to silence his thoughts with alcohol. That farmer – and he’d only admit this in the privacy of his own mind – was sticking with him. There was just something about her. Her dedication to talking to him, sure. But, it occurred to him, he didn’t mind it so much. He couldn’t think of another person other than Marnie or Jas who went out of their way to speak to him every day – and she’d only just moved into the Valley! It had taken her, what, sixteen days, to become closer with him that he was with the entire rest of the village. Absurd. Suspicious, really, which was why he wasn’t doing a lot to let her in. But she seemed so honest and pure with her intentions – she just wanted to be his friend, was what she’d said. How much harm could it do to just let that happen? It wasn’t taking much effort on Shane’s part, apparently.
By one in the morning, Shane was so tired of the thoughts that pulverised his mind that he chugged a few mouthfuls of whisky to help sleep find him.
Spring 20, Year 1
“Happy birthday, Shane!” He was startled out of his thoughts by the voice of Ari, sliding onto the bar stool where he stood in the corner.
“How did you-” he was silenced when she slid a beer and piping hot plate of pizza across the waxed bar towards him, “hey! Two of my favourite things! How did you know?” he was too delightfully stunned to even give her a sarcastic comment. Ari smiled at him, her eyes sparkling in the knowledge that she’d done well. “It’s one of my talents – knowing what people need. Oh, okay, I checked the calendar out the front of Pierre’s, too.” She admitted bashfully.
“Still…” it was only pizza and a beer, but he was touched. No one other than Marnie or Jas had wished him a happy birthday. “Thank you. Really,” he told the farmer sincerely. Absurdly, he felt like he could cry. He wasn’t expecting this. He took a few gulps of beer instead. “Please, join me,” it was the least he could offer, after her thoughtfulness, “let’s get you a drink.”
“Water’s fine,” Ari replied cheerily. “I have to be up early – need to keep my wits about me. But I’ll take a slice of pizza.”
Somehow, they got chatting, despite Shane’s awkwardness and the urge he got to shut her down every time she asked him something personal. But he supposed this was what friendship was, wasn’t it? Knowing someone, flaws, skeletons and all, and still deciding to stay. Before long (or, at least, it hadn’t felt like long), Shane was on his fifth beer, and Gus was shouting ‘last call!’ to anyone still left in the bar. He realised, with surprise, Pam, Ari and himself were the only ones. Still, he didn’t want the night to end.
“You want to go… sit somewhere outside?” Summer was around the corner, and the night wouldn’t be too cold. He realised it had been hours since he’d had a cigarette, and was suddenly obsessed with the idea.
“Yeah,” Ari smiled, “yeah, okay. You have somewhere in mind?” She hopped off the bar stool and waited for Shane to lead the way. After an unusually cheerful wave to Gus, Shane led Ari north of the Saloon and to a park bench. By this time of the night – actually, morning – the playground had long since been abandoned, and they had the place to themselves. Shane nursed a beer in one hand, cigarette in the other. He watched as Ari shivered beside him. He held the cigarette between his lips, handed Ari his beer for a moment, and shrugged out of his jacket. “Here,” he mumbled, wrapping it around her shoulders. He was sure it didn’t smell great, but she was thankful.
“Tell me, farmer Ari-”
“You don’t have to call me that,” she interjected.
“Yeah, but it’s funny. Tell me, why the big change?” The threw an arm across the back of the park bench. Not touching Ari, but close.
“From corporate life to being a farmer?” She clarified, and he nodded.
“I… I wasn’t happy. And it was a way out. I think I realised, not everyone is as lucky as I am – to get a free ticket out of their old life. I thought I’d be stupid not to take it.”
“You’re… very wise. What are you, twenty-one?”
“Twenty-three… I don’t know if I’m wise. I just know how to follow my heart.”
He wondered what that would even mean for him, following his heart. A horribly invasive thought occurred to him that it might mean diving straight off a cliff. He wouldn’t be missed by many. Not like Ari would. “Do your family miss you?”
“My dad… I’m pretty close with my dad. He writes letters. I’m hoping he might be able to visit me sometime soon.” She mused.
“Your mom?”
Ari smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ah, Mom. She’s… troubled. They’re not together. She has… dependencies.”
Shane had to chuckle at her diplomacy. “You mean she’s a drunk like me?”
Ari didn’t laugh. “That, and pain pills.”
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. With courage he didn’t know he possessed, he moved his arm around her. She was tense for a moment, then leant into him and relaxed. They were quiet for some time, after that, listening to the owls and possums in the night. The town was silent as a grave.
“Did you have a nice birthday, Shane?” She asked quietly.
“The best I’ve had in a long time. Thank you, Ari. Come on, early bird, let me walk you home.”
Spring 24, Year 1
“Looks like everyone’s here!” Leah smiled across at Elliott as they sat by the river.
“No, not everyone…” he replied distractedly as he peered across at the makeshift bridge separating the field for the Spring Dance from the rest of the forest. What if Ari had gotten lost? She’d never been to a dance here before.
“Looking for your girlfriend?” Leah nudged him with an elbow and wiggled her eyebrows. Elliott snorted, spluttering, “What?! No! It’s just- you know- she’s new to- oh, stop looking at me like that!”
Leah grinned. “You promised we’d be dance partners though, okay? Don’t ditch me if a better offer comes along. I don’t want to end up with…” She didn’t have a mean enough bone in her body to finish the sentence. “I just want to dance with you, okay?”
“Hmm,” Elliott indulged this line of thought. “What if Emily asked you to dance?”
It was Leah’s turn to blush. “I’d still be a very loyal friend and politely tell her that I’m sorry, I’m dancing with Elliott,” she glanced around before adding, “then I’d hold it against you until next Spring. Oh, look, Ari’s arrived!”
“I wasn’t sure I would find the place!” Ari huffed as she beelined for Leah and Elliott. She’d been here almost a season now, and seemed to enjoy their company very much. The feeling was mutual. Unlike all the other young women partaking in the dance, Ari was dressed in her usual farmer’s garb instead of a white dress and flower crown. He groaned inwardly – why hadn’t he thought to tell her about the dress code when they spoken on the beach yesterday?
She’d probably been up working from the crack of dawn – the evidence of her labours clear on her face. “May I?” Elliott asked, and Ari held still as her way of consent while he used a thumb to gently wipe a smudge of dirt off her cheek. Her dark eyes flickered up at him through her lashes. “Elliott, I wanted to ask you – would you be my dance partner today?” She wondered hopefully.
Elliott’s stomach sank to his knees. “Oh, Ari, that’s such a kind offer, but I’m already dancing with Leah today. I’m sorry,” he let her down as easily as he could, feeling Leah’s eyes on them the whole time. Ari’s face fell for only a split second, before the brave optimism that adorned her aura was back. “That’s okay! I’ll see if I can find someone else. I’d better go say hello to everyone – talk to you guys again soon.”
The next half an hour was torture for Elliott. He watched as Ari approached all the different townsfolk – already on the social backfoot as the underdressed new girl – and braved asking people to dance with her. He watched as people pointed out their already agreed-upon dance partners, or shook their heads, or laughed in her face.
“She sure is a trooper,” Leah mused, following Elliott’s gaze as Ari marched over to Shane. Shane! She wasn’t going to ask him, was she? He was at least four lagers in, and he was always mean when he was drinking. He was always drinking. This interaction wouldn’t last long. “I think determination is one of her strongest character traits,” Elliott mused, “I’d have burst into flame by now, or ran all the way home…” Why was she still talking to Shane?
“Your crush is showing,” Leah teased. Elliott rolled his eyes, “oh, come now! I…” he couldn’t deny he had a crush, “don’t even know her that well yet.”
Leah watched Elliott watch Ari. She groaned. “Fine! Ask her to dance! You owe me one. I’ll sit this one out.”
Elliott turned to her, already lit up with hope. “Really? No, I’d like to dance with you, Leah. Wait, really?”
“Well, you want to get to know her better, don’t you?”
“You’re sure?”
“I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness,” she smiled.
“Thank you,” Elliott told her seriously, standing up and brushing grass off the back of his trousers. “Really, Leah. I mean it.”
Just then, Mayor Lewis whistled to draw the attention of the crowd. Elliott stopped in his tracks as Lewis called out: “It’s time to dance!”
Disappointment flooded through Elliott, but he turned to smile at Leah, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. “Saved by the bell, my friend. Let’s dance. Perhaps next Spring I can accompany Ari on her first Flower Dance,” he wondered wistfully. He led Leah to the dance floor, genuinely happy to be sharing a dance with his dear friend, and at the same time watching in confusion – and, admittedly, horror – as Shane took Ari by the wrist and gently pulled her along to the dance floor. The dance began, and it was just as well Leah and Elliott had practiced, because he was not paying a lot of attention to his partner.
“Did you know they were friends?” He muttered to Leah between steps.
“Who? Ari and Shane? I don’t know, she’s lovely to everyone – pay attention, El!”
“My apologies,” he focussed on Leah for the remainder of the dance. He tried his best to be present that afternoon, mingling with his neighbours, but the niggling bother continued to scratch at his mind. Ari eventually made her way back to him at some point during the festivities, and Elliott couldn’t help but breach the subject. “I was happy to see you found yourself a dance partner – I didn’t know you were so close with Shane…”
Ari glanced over her shoulder at the mention of Shane – he was drinking in the corner of the field. “He’s a tough nut to crack, that one,” She smiled brightly, “I really don’t like the thought of someone not liking me, so when someone’s standoffish, it just makes me try harder, to be honest.”
So, Shane was as rude to her as he was everyone else. “Go on,” Elliott encouraged warily.
“Well, I’ve been trying to get to know everyone, and it’s not been easy with some. But I just want to be…” she sighed, “valuable, I guess.” She looked sad, and Elliott’s heart lurched at the very notion.
“You’re valuable, Ari. So valuable. Don’t ever forget that. You don’t have to put up with people being rude to you just so they’ll like you. There are plenty of us who like you already.”
“You’re so kind,” she grinned. “I’m so grateful I’ve had you to talk to this season. It would have been an even harder adjustment without you…” Ari blushed, the colour looked delicious on her. She seemed to realise what she’d said. “You, and Leah… Linus and a few others… but Shane isn’t all bad. All it really took with him was a beer on his birthday,” she laughed.
“Life’s simple pleasures,” Elliott replied cryptically. What more could be said? She just wanted to be a friend of the world. And if he hadn’t rejected her invitation to dance, they wouldn’t be in this position. She’d asked him first, hadn’t she? “Can I walk you home?”
“It’s out of your way?”
“It’s the least I can do,” Elliott held out his arm for Ari to take.
Chapter 2: Summer, Year 1
Chapter Text
Summer 8, Year 1
The day was hot and humid after yesterday’s first rain of the Summer. Elliott’s auburn hair clung to the back of his neck as he traipsed through the town. His destination: Honey Bell Farm. He’d visited a couple of times since Ari’s arrival – sometimes to drop cooking off to the busy farmer; other times she invited him in for a game of cards after supper. Usually, he was accompanied by Leah, or Penny, or even sometimes Harvey. A friendship group that had only grown stronger since the arrival of their beloved farmer last season. But today, Elliott was taking the trip alone. Knowing Ari – and he was starting to feel like he did know her rather well – she was up and working, sweating away in this searing heat. He hoped the early lunch he’d brought her might encourage her to slow down.
As suspected, she was hard at work when Elliott made his way up the garden path, greeted first by her sweet farm dog, Smooch, before Ari spotted him and waved across the field. “Elliott!” She smiled, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her arm. How lovely his name sounded in her mouth. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today!” She waved him over to her splintery front porch, and they sat on the steps. “What brings you here?”
“Lunch!” Elliott grinned, handing Ari the package of crab cakes he’d prepared that very morning.
“You’re too good to me! I’d hug you, but I’m dusty and sweaty and a bit of a mess. But thank you so much! You’ll stay and eat with me?” Elliott watched distractedly as a rivulet of sweat travelled down Ari’s neck and disappeared down the front of her overalls. He blinked, looking her in the eyes quickly. “That was the plan,” he smiled.
Elliott ended up spending most of the day at the farm. Ari gave him a lesson on which crops to plant and when, and he helped her clear some rocks and fallen branches nearby the farm’s central pond. They tinkered with sprinklers and foraged mushrooms in the farm’s storage cave. Best of all, they spoke the whole time. Elliott could confidently now recite Ari’s zodiac sign, favourite colour, dream dessert order, amongst other details. He also learned about her on a deeper level: her reason for leaving the Big Smoke; her fears of failure; her family situation. She seemed genuinely interested in his book, too, which filled him with a glowing sense of gratitude. They compared the tales of their ‘sea changes’ – and why Pelican Town was the place they’d settled on. By the early evening, they were spent – well and truly done working and even talking. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, breathing and watching the clouds overhead.
“You know what we should do?” Ari’s eye glinted wickedly as they lay spread on the dusty ground.
“What’s that?” Although Elliott could think of a hundred and one things he’d like to do with the farmer.
“Jump in the pond!” Ari was up, kicking off her dusty boots and unclipping the straps of her overalls before Elliott had time to process what was happening. He couldn’t think of a single reason not to go along with this – actually, as he watched Ari run and jump into the clear, cool water in nothing but her underwear, he couldn’t think much at all.
Elliott tore off his own shoes, shirt and trousers, and rushed to join her.
They splashed and hollered for a while before easing up and floating on their backs, washing the day’s hard labour off in the pond. While resting atop the water, spread out like a pair of starfish, their heads knocked gently together, her dark hair mingling with his red mane under the surface of the pool. How easy would it be to reach out and take hold of Ari? To kiss her?
She broke the silence. “This has been the perfect end to the day, but I better get dry and head off…”
Oh? “You have plans this evening?” A knot began to grow in Elliott’s stomach. Something inside him knew he would regret asking the question.
“I’m just heading to the Saloon. Have a drink or two with-”
“Shane,” he finished automatically. If there was distaste in his voice, Ari didn’t detect it. Or perhaps she did, but chose to rise above it.
“Yeah! He’s been teaching me to play pool properly. You should join us.”
“That sounds like fun, Ari. But I think I’ve graced you with my presence for long enough today. And all this hard labour you’ve had me doing,” she splashed him at that remark, “has me utterly exhausted. I’ll see you again soon?” They each moved to climb out the pool, so much cooler now. Elliott felt a chill move over his skin, and tried his best not to ogle Ari’s dripping wet figure glowing in the last of the afternoon sun.
“Don’t walk home like that, Elliott. Come on, I’ll get you a towel. I’ll have to rush off after I get changed, but stay as long as you like, and just shut the door behind you when you’re ready to head home.”
“No, no,” Elliott was gathering his clothes off the hard, dusty ground. “I’ve taken up far too much of your time today, Ari. Thank you for your hospitality.” Elliott headed south, ignoring Ari’s final protest with a good-natured wave, and walked towards the forest, his dry clothes bundled in his arms as he slowly made his way, barefoot, to Leah’s house by the river. On his way past Marnie’s ranch – of course – Shane was on his way out.
There was a moment of silence as Elliott stood, a deer in headlights, in the deepening twilight. Shane stopped in his tracks, frowning curiously at the wet, almost naked man on the pine needle path.
“Hot day. Went for a swim in the lake,” Elliott explained, conveniently able to point out the forest lake behind him.
“You live at the beach,” Shane grumbled in disbelief before continuing on his way.
Summer 13, Year 1
“Ari? What are you doing here?” it was the last place Shane expected to see the farmer, under the fluorescent lights of the JojaMart. “You don’t shop here.” He said plainly. There wasn’t an organic produce item in sight.
“Well then I must just be here to see you, Shane,” she flirted. Wait, flirted? Was he reading that right? It made him smile despite himself. “I’m on break in twenty minutes,” he mumbled, “meet you out front?” Packing shelves had never gone so slowly as it did that day.
Finally, he made it outside. He pat the pocket of his shorts – damn it. His smokes must have been in his jacket pocket in his employee locker. He wasn’t going to waste time going to get them, though.
“Brought you some lunch,” Ari smiled, offering him a container of leaves.
“What’s this?”
“Salad!”
He eyed the rabbit food cautiously. “Trying to make a healthy change in my life, I see,” he faux-complained.
“Well, someone has to,” Ari shrugged. “Come on, you’ll like it. Italian dressing.”
He gave it a go, and, to his mild surprise, he enjoyed the salad – especially the cheese. “How’s your day been?” he asked between crunches. He was getting used to that, asking Ari how she was doing. He found he genuinely liked hearing her tales of the farm. It wasn’t so different from life on the Ranch, after all. They were compatible in that way. Not that he’d been thinking about that.
“Not too bad, actually. The hot peppers are coming along. I’ve worked out how to make mayonnaise,” she told him cheerfully. Sat beside him on the bench, Shane was able to take in Ari’s profile for the millionth time. In just over a season, her skin – far darker than his to begin with – had taken on a coppery glow. In her overalls and tank top, he could see the way her muscles were beginning to define themselves on her biceps and quads. She was pretty pleasant to look at.
“Hot pepper mayo,” he mused, “now that would be good on a salad.”
“I’ll make you some,” she vowed.
“You’re too nice to me,” it was mostly meant as a flirtation, but sometimes Shane couldn’t help but sound accusing. Old habits died hard.
“Why wouldn’t I be nice to you?” the farmer countered, defensively. It was a fair point – she was, quite truthfully, nice to everyone she came into contact with. Even the most insufferable townsfolk like Pierre and Clint. “I mean, get it through your head, Shane, would you? I like you,” she huffed, standing. “I’ll let you get back to work. Talk to you soon, okay? Have a good shift.” Even when she was annoyed, she was still polite. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d fumbled the bag significantly with that one.
She liked him? She liked him. She’d said it, so it had to be true: she liked him. Well, he liked her too. That was easy enough to admit, if only to himself. But did she like him the way that he liked her? And did he even like her like that? When she said she liked him, she probably just meant that she liked him, right? He was pretty sure he did like her like that, but it had been so long since he’d felt a spark with anyone, that it was hard to detect. And he wouldn’t want to initiate anything with Ari unless he was totally convinced that the spark was genuine, and mutual. It had been a hell of a long time since he’d been laid, and he didn’t want to confuse lust for… like. He didn’t want to do that to her. And he didn’t want to do it to himself, either. Shane spent the rest of his shift packing shelves on auto-pilot, letting these questions tumble through his head. By the time his co-worker, Sam, approached him at five-fifteen, he still had no answers.
“Shane? Weren’t you finished at five? They won’t pay you any overtime, you know!” he laughed. Shane, dazed, checked the clock. He had indeed given Joja Corp fifteen minutes of his time he’d ever get back. “I need a drink.”
Summer 15, Year 1
This Summer was proving to be a sweltering one, and what better way to cool down those heat-frayed nerves and recuperate for the day, than to head to the Saloon? With his hair thrown up in a bun and shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, Elliott strode into the public house, the bell above the door lightly tinkling and alerting Gus to the young writer’s appearance. Not that the bell was necessary this evening – the pub was quiet. Willy and Clint? Present. Pam? Of course. And just one other regular – Shane. The regular he was counting on. Elliott steeled himself, before striding over to the bar stool closest to Shane.
“A beer, Elliott?” Gus asked, already pouring one into a pint glass from the tap. If he was surprised to see Elliott away from his usual table, he didn’t show it.
“Two, please, Gus,” Elliott smiled, and Gus poured another, clunking them both down on the shining bar before him without spilling a drop. Elliott spun on his stool, facing Shane now. He pushed the beer towards the other man. “For you,” he assured him, when all Shane did in response was frown.
Shane’s frown lifted slightly. “Hm. Well thanks, Elliott.” Shane necked the beer he was currently nursing, and Elliott took the moment to observe the scruffy, older man. How old was Shane? Thirty-six? Maybe he looked older than he actually was – all those rough habits would age a man. But he couldn’t be younger than thirty, could he? Before Elliot could stop himself, he blurted out, “say, Shane – you had a birthday not long ago, didn’t you?”
The frown was back. “Huh? My birthday was in Spring.”
“My mistake, I apologise. And in Spring you turned…”
“Thirty-four. Why?”
He had to think fast, now. “Oh, I had a feeling we were closer in age, but no. I’ll be twenty-six in the fall. You have a few more years of wisdom on me, I think!”
Shane grumbled something unintelligible in response.
Elliott took his first sip of beer. “Ah, that’s the stuff, isn’t it?”
“I’ll drink to that,” Shane chuckled darkly.
“I hear that farmer Ari is looking into growing hops on the farm next year. Maybe she’ll be Gus’ supplier one day! Do you… spend much time on the farm?”
Shane’s eyes narrowed a little. He was a suspicious sort of fellow, Elliott noted. “Some,” the older man admitted. “What’s with the interrogation?”
“Oh, don’t be like that!” Elliott forced a laugh, “I’m merely trying to get to know you, Shane! If my good friend Ari holds you in such high esteem,” bewilderingly, he thought internally, “then maybe we could be friends, too.”
“Doubt it,” Shane grumbled. “One friend feels like plenty.”
“And that friend is Ari… why is that?”
“Why are you friends with her?” Shane countered argumentatively.
Why, indeed. Maybe because she saw the good in everyone. And she was the kindest soul he’d ever met. And she had a breathtaking smile. And she was such an active listener. And she didn’t let her own insecurities get in the way of making friends. And she was willing to help anyone out. And her hair always smelt like strawberries, no matter how much work she’d been sweating away at. And because she believed in spontaneous gifts. And because when she blushed, the colour made Elliott want to take a bite out of her cheek. And because she was always reading something. And because she had inherent belief in all the people around her. And because of the way her hair swirled around her gorgeous face when they walked side by side along the beach, combing for shells. He settled for, “I happen to like making new friends, Shane,” which felt like a crime against Ari to not be singing her praises.
Shane was quiet for a few moments. Elliott thought maybe they’d exhausted all they had to talk about, and wondered whether he should turn back towards the bar. Shane drank deeply from his beer, then spoke again. “She sees a better version of me than I see in myself.” He chugged the rest of his beer, clunked the glass down on the bar, and stood up. He grasped Elliott firmly on the shoulder on his way past, gripping hard and shaking him a little. “Thanks for the beer,” he added on his way out, an unlit cigarette having already appeared in his mouth before he’d even reached the door.
She sees a better version of me than I see in myself. The phrase turned over in Elliott’s mind for the rest of the night. He quietly finished his beer, paid his tab, and slowly made his way back to the shack on the beach. This was worrying. Very worrying indeed. It wasn’t that Shane might not be a good enough person for Ari – which was true. It wasn’t that Ari might be misinterpreting Shane as something other than what he was (an antisocial alcoholic with anger issues) – which was probably also true. But it was that Shane’s favourite thing about Ari was the very first thing that Elliott had loved about her. She saw the very best in every person she met. The implication was, of course, that Shane was getting to know Ari as well as he was. He wasn’t just some obstacle in the peripheral way of Elliott’s feelings for the farmer. He was standing right in front of her. For all Elliott knew, he himself was the one in the way of Shane and Ari’s budding love story. Or perhaps he wasn’t a factor at all. How did Ari feel? Did she even think of either of them as more than friends? Elliott knew he was in for a sleepless night, and so settled in with his favourite volume of tortured love poetry by the light of his lamp.
Summer 27, Year 1
It was a hot, sticky night. Summer wasn’t going without a fight this year. Usually, by the end of Summer, the weather had evened out to much cooler evenings, if not days. Fall was only a few days away, and despite the darkness, and the much cooler forecast for tomorrow, the night was warm and humidity hung in the air. That was the problem – the moisture clinging to the air particles. Even though they’d been lying on their towels on the beach since sundown, Shane didn’t feel any less sweaty. He only felt coated with sand. He ran his hands through his hair, and could tell by the way that Ari giggled, whatever he’d done was ridiculous.
“Shut up,” he kicked the white sand at her feet. “Are there any more beers in the cooler?”
Ari rummaged through the blue cooler between them, “I’m afraid you’ve gone through the whole six pack,” she mused. “I have soda. Or water.” She flicked ice cold droplets of water from her fingers at his chest. He flinched, but the cold was welcome.
Shane frowned. He can’t have had that many. “You had a couple, right?”
Ari shook her head, frowning back. “Nope. All you.” She’d have a beer if the occasion called for it, but she was far more likely to imbibe in a glass of wine. One of her special talents, Shane thought, was that she could stop at one. She opened a bottle of water, took a swig, then handed it to him. Water would have to suffice. It was deliciously cool on the back of his throat. Almost as good as beer, minus the forgetting-your-troubles side-effect. He didn’t feel overly troubled on this Summer evening, though. Water would do just fine. An absurd thought, really, after a six-pack of beers.
About an hour ago, most of the town had been on the beach, splashing in the water and enjoying the warmth on what was probably going to be the last hot day of the year. It was a Saturday, after all. Gus had even brought down his seldom-used bar cart – nobody wanted to sit at the Saloon on a night like this, so he’d brought the Saloon to them. Shane wished Gus hadn’t packed up so soon. Now, though, it was dark out. Families had returned home. The only other people around were Willy – fishing on the pier just outside his house, and Haley and Alex, who seemed to be taking photos and beach combing far east of where Ari and Shane lay on their towels.
Ari lay back on her elbows, and Shane, out the corner of his eye, took the opportunity for another glance at her. She’d taken off her sun hat – smart move, seeing as it was night time – and her long dark hair was pinned back, away from her face. It had partially dried since their last dip in the blue, and was crusty with salt and sand. Somehow, she made it look good. His eyes trailed down her neck, clavicle, her skin an eerie blue in the moonlight. Clad in a black two-piece swimsuit, it took more willpower than Shane cared to admit to look away.
“Night folks – the fish ain’t bitin’,” Willy called to them from the pier. Shane gave the old fisherman a wave, and Ari wished him a good night. They felt quite alone, now. It was nice, listening to the waves, with Ari by his side. He could get used to this. Frighteningly, he was getting used to this.
“Ever skinny dipped?” She asked him suddenly.
So, he’d felt her looking. He could feel a blush forming on his cheeks. Thankfully, the stubble and cover of darkness ensured she wouldn’t see it.
“Can’t really do anything skinny with a rig like this,” he mused, patting his belly. He was more dad-bod than not, these days. All the countless (and unaccounted-for) beers, he supposed.
“Sounds like you’re scared to me,” Ari challenged, standing up. He watched shamelessly as she unsuccessfully brushed sand from her bottom. It was a rare moment of earnestness for Shane then, even if it was just a bit of flirting, “Scared of seeing you naked? Ari, I’ve been dreaming about this moment,” she didn’t know just how true that was. “However, scared of you seeing me naked? Yes, ma’am. I’m afraid I can’t hold a candle to your tanned and toned farmer’s physique,” Still, he clambered to his feet, the sand still warm underfoot. He wasn’t going to back away from a challenge. If this was an invitation, he was absolutely going to take it.
He didn’t get as satisfying of a glance as he might have liked, because by the time he’d untied his shorts and shed the navy undershirt he’d had on, Ari’s naked figure was sprinting off the end of the pier, with a considerable and impressive splash when she hit the once-calm water. Oh well, at least she was too preoccupied to ogle his less-than-impressive form. Swings and round abouts, Shane supposed. His shorts dropped to the ground, he gave one last shrug, and ran to join the farmer, cannon-balling off the end of the jetty.
“Yoba! It’s cold now!” Shane shook his head frantically when he emerged, neck deep in the water, trying to find his late-night swimming companion. “Ari? Where’d you go?” Suddenly, something pinched his ass, causing Shane to yelp. On the shore, the lights of Elliott’s cabin went on – had he been that loud? “Shh, you’ll wake the whole town,” came Ari’s whisper from behind. It sent a shiver down his spine. The lights in the cabin went off again. Distantly, Shane watched Haley and Alex trudge back up the beach and onto the cobblestone path that led to town. Now they were alone, truly. Unless, of course, it had been a crab that had pinched him. He spun around. Ari positively shone in the moonlight, hair smoothed and glossy, floating all around her. He knew she’d have to be treading water, she was half a head shorter than he was, and he could only just reach the bottom with his head above the gentle waves. He took a step closer to her, and she reached out to take hold of his shoulders.
“Tomorrow night,” he murmured, “everyone will come down to the beach to watch the moonlight jellyfish migration,” he told her. Ari flinched, twitching closer to him in the water, “do they sting?”
“They’re not here yet,” he smiled. She was so close to him now. He took her waist in his hands, and when she didn’t move away, Shane pulled her even closer, lifting her up easily in the tide, and wrapping his arms around her. She was up higher than him now, her bare breasts just peeking above the water and pressed against his own chest. He could feel her nipples stiffen against him, and willed himself not to look down. He thought he’d feasted his eyes enough on her in the bikini she’d been wearing all evening. He wondered what he’d done to deserve this, her naked form, right in front of him. Pressing against him. Her body felt so warm in the cool water, another shiver rolled up his spine. “They glow in the dark. Will you come with me?” An innuendo hung in the air.
“Like a date?”
“Yeah, like a date,” Shane smiled. Her warm body against his emboldened him, “I’d like to take you on a date.” He may have smiled his biggest smile in probably a year.
“I’d like that very much,” she told him quietly.
“Can I kiss you, Ari?”
“I’d like that very much,” she repeated. So he did. Shane kissed her, hard, crashing his lips down onto Ari’s with ferocity he hadn’t realised he possessed. Self-control was not a quality he possessed. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he was acutely aware of the lack of fabric between their bodies. The restraint it took not to thrust up into her was more than he realised he’d had. But he managed, willing his hips to lock into place and not move a muscle. His dick, however, he could not control, and could not stop the furious blood flow heading south of his navel. His arms constricted around her as he deepened the kiss. Her lips were soft, and salty, and welcoming. For the first time ever, Shane found himself caring whether or not he smelt like beer, and how unappealing that might be for Ari. She moaned softly, and he had to wrench them apart before he lost all control. “That was…”
“Yeah,” was all he could muster. It had been a long while, for him, but that had been the best kiss of his life, if he was remembering correctly.
“We should…”
“We should get home, yeah. I mean… I’ll walk you home, not you walk to my home. And I’ll go to my home. I’m not assuming you’re going to take me home… sorry,” he fumbled his words as they waded back to the shore. Slowly but surely, his heartrate was returning to normal, his blood returning to the rest of his body. But seeing her rise from the waves, dripping wet, hair slinking down her back as she strode over to their towels was almost too much for him. That round ass. Strong, thick thighs. She was a vision.
“Shane. Relax. I would like if you walked me home,” She said, pulling her shorts up over her naked legs before finding her singlet, her dark, still-pert nipples tenting the thin fabric. “I want to be well rested – have a hot date tomorrow night.”
Summer 28, Year 1
It was the end of Summer, and one of the most magical nights of the year: the dance of the moonlight jellies. This was Elliott’s favourite of Pelican Town’s quirky little celebrations, and not just because it happened to take place right outside his front door. The night grew darker, the air crisp and cool with the Fall breeze just a moon away. Elliott trudged along the short stretch of beach to step foot on the pier, the huge wooden structure abuzz with excitement and glowing in the soft blue light of the lanterns. It was always nice to be reminded just how sturdy the ancient structure was, comfortably fitting the whole town to watch and the magical jellyfish danced their way to shore after being summoned by the little lantern boat.
Elliott scanned the crowd. He’d greet everyone, of course, but wanted to spend time with friends. He spoke to Penny and Harvey for a little while before politely excusing himself. He got chatting to Willy for a while, his eccentric neighbour. When Willy had wandered off briefly – he’d decided he may as well head inside and grab one of his rods – Leah sidled up to Elliott. “Want me to save you some time?” She asked wryly.
“What do you mean?”
“Ari’s at the end of the pier, past Willy’s house. With-”
“Shane,” Elliott finished with a sigh. They were sitting pretty close in the dark over there. Leah gave him a gentle pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
The whole unrequited crush thing, he supposed she meant. “I’m afraid I do,” Elliott admitted. He couldn’t take his eyes off the two figures sitting on the bench. Was his arm around her?
“Yeah, we’re a bit pathetic, aren’t we?” Leah said, and Elliott snapped out of his reverie to follow Leah’s gaze. Of course, she was looking at Emily. He figured Leah didn’t need a response to that one. At least he had a friend who could relate to his plight – Leah had been pining after Emily for a while now. Sometimes he wondered if there was indeed a spark between them, and that if Leah were only brave enough to reach out, Emily might just respond favourably.
“We’re about to start!” Mayor Lewis announced into the darkness, and the townsfolk surged forward onto the dock, all clambering to get a good view of the little boat that would be sent out onto the calm seas to attract the moonlight jellies.
In the small crowd, Elliott couldn’t help but notice the only two people who hadn’t moved to the edge of the pier – Shane and Ari. Still they sat, deep in conversation, in the shadows. “Stop staring,” Leah muttered by his side, “watch the jellies.” A hush fell over the crowd as the magical glowing creatures slowly floated through the water towards them. They reminded Elliott of a sky full of kites, floating painlessly, thoughtlessly through the waves, dancing on the tides. Year after year, it was a sight no one tired of. It was a sight that Ari would miss, her first Summer in Pelican Town, if she didn’t come over and see it right now! Elliott steeled himself to go interrupt the pair on the bench, swivelled around and began to stride over when-
Shane and Ari were kissing.
Chapter 3: Fall, Year 1
Chapter Text
Fall 3, Year 1
By now, word had gotten around the whole town about Ari and Shane’s kiss on the dock. That was fair enough, he supposed, seeing as they’d done it with quite literally every resident there. As long as no one knew about their kiss the previous night – naked, and in the moonlit water – Shane didn’t mind a whole lot. It actually made something flutter in his chest, knowing that she’d kiss him back like that, in public, for anyone to see. Not that he necessarily wanted people looking – he wasn’t a pervert. But to know Ari wasn’t ashamed to be seen with him? Well, it just confirmed every good thing he already thought about her.
He wanted to pinch himself. Could he really be this lucky? Could an angel like her really have fallen for someone like him? In his room, he took a small shot of whisky to calm his nerves. A half shot, really. Then one more to give him the courage. He brushed his teeth. He sniffed through the dishevelled pile of clothes on his closet floor for a clean and moderately starched plaid shirt. He found one that would do the job. Did his hair need fixing? He checked it for a third time in the mirror. Oh, fuck it. He pulled a worn Zuzu City Tunnelers cap over his head. Why was he so nervous – it was clear she liked him, wasn’t it? And he hadn’t made an effort to impress her before, so why would today matter, of all days? Every moment with Ari had mattered, he realised, as he pulled on the slightly less scuffed and damaged pair of sneakers he owned.
This next part would be unpleasant, and Shane steeled himself, walking out into the living room to see his aunt. “Marnie.”
“Mornin’ Shane – this is early for you! You feelin’ alright? Or are ya off to see your girlfriend?” She teased merrily, flipping pancakes all the while. “Gotta wake up at sparrow’s fart to keep up with her, I suppose.”
He ignored the line of questioning and got straight to the point, “those sunflowers out the back. Did you need them for something?”
Marnie turned around to grin at him, now. “I was only going to cut them and put them in a vase before the Fall weather spoils ‘em. You take them, please! She’ll love them – ooh, I’m so excited!”
“She hasn’t said yes yet,” he grumbled by way of response. He grabbed some kitchen shears and headed to the garden. Luckily, the sunflowers were planted a good distance from the goat yard, and hadn’t been nibbled by the hungry animals. When he came back in, Marnie directed him to the tissue paper to wrap his gift, and then had taken over when she realised he was hopeless at arranging flowers. Jas had made her way to the table to scarf down the blueberry pancakes that, to her knowledge, had magically appeared. “Are you gonna ask farmer Ari to marry you?” She asked, mouth full.
“No,” Shane blushed.
“It’s a bit early for that, sweetheart,” Marnie explained, “there! They look good, don’t you think?”
They did look good. And they’d save him the embarrassment of going to Pierre’s to purchase a perfect, yet impersonal, bouquet. “Thanks Marnie,” he said lowly, heading out the door before he could be further embarrassed by any responses his family could give. There was nothing to do but head north, up the path to Honey Bell Farm. For the first time, he wished the walk was a little longer, so jittery with nerves was he. This was why he needed a hip flask, he reminded himself. But it was too late to turn back now, and he was already approaching the southern entry point to the farm. She’d done a lot with the place over Summer. A lot of weeds, wood and stone had been not only cleared, but used to construct borders in places around the farm – her chicken coop and brand new barn were now safely fenced in. Her new calf, Mercy, grazed happily in the pasture.
And then there was Ari, sitting on her porch with a coffee in hand. Yoba, she was beautiful. “Shane!” she spotted him when he had come closer, up through the trees, almost to her doorstep. Must have been deep in thought, because he wasn’t being quiet. She abandoned her coffee mug to stand up on the step and fling her arms around his neck. He was taken aback, but easily wrapped his arms around her waist, flowers held tightly still. When she pulled back, he kissed her quickly. She took sugar in her coffee.
“Ari, I have something for you.” It occurred to him then that this was a tradition specific to Stardew Valley – at least, as far as he knew. She might not recognise the significance of the flowers. He brought the bouquet between them, searching her face for any recognition. She smiled, of course, but that wasn’t enough information. “They’re beautiful – thank you so much! Come in, I’ll put them in water right away,” she pulled on his hand, guiding him into the farmhouse. It was looking a little better these days, after some hard work on Robin’s part and some TLC on Ari’s. The fire burned low in the hearth, giving the room a warm glow. The covers of her bed in the corner were tousled, unmade. His heart was racing suddenly.
“You see, in the Valley,” he began, watching the back of her as she rummaged through her kitchen cabinets for a vase, “there’s this tradition… when someone gives you flowers. Ari, can you hang on for a moment?” he came up behind her, gently taking her wrist from the faucet and spinning her around. “Just… just stop, for a moment. Please?”
Her brown eyes looked up into his. “Sure.”
“Here, giving flowers is like… asking to go steady.”
She frowned. Not annoyed, but confused. He was showing the age gap with that phrase, he feared. “You mean like, you’re asking if we can date each other exclusively?”
“That’s exactly what I’m asking,” he smiled, stepping closer so her backside hit the counter, their bodies pressing together softly, “Ari, will you be my girlfriend?” He realised in that moment that he was entirely expecting a yes. If he hadn’t been totally confident, he wouldn’t have asked at all. So as the milliseconds turned to seconds, Shane felt every part of his being freeze as he stared the young farmer in the eyes. Had he read this all wrong? But then-
“Yes! Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend!” And he was so elated and relieved that he picked her up and planted her down on the bench in one fluid movement, her ass hitting the kitchen counter as he kissed her deeply, unrelenting and unrestrained. They weren’t exposed out in the open ocean now, and he kissed her hungrily, needily, aggressively, even. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him into her, the heels of her boots digging into his lower back in a dizzying bolt of pain as his hips made frustrating contact with her inner thighs. But he liked it. Soon, his hands were under her shirt, unable to get enough purchase of her smooth, dark skin. “Bed,” she mumbled against his lips, and he was only too eager to oblige. His job lifting boxes at the JojaMart came in handy for the first time in his life as he scooped the farmer up, firmly holding onto her ass cheeks for purchase as he stumbled with her to her bed, not breaking their frenzied kisses as he blindly made his way across the cabin floor.
By the time he tripped, and it was only a matter of time, it was at the edge of the bed, and they tumbled onto the mattress like a felled tree. Shane kicked his sneakers off, leaning up and off of Ari to shed his shirt while she watched him hungrily. His cap was long lost, somewhere on the kitchen floor. She lay, panting, watching him as he pulled off her boots. He leant forward, raising an eyebrow by way of asking before he unbuttoned her shorts. He would love to savour this moment, to take every part of her in. But that wasn’t really Shane’s style. And operating under the loose assumption that this must be a dream, he wanted to get his fill before he woke up. He gripped the waistbands of both Ari’s shorts and her underwear after she’d breathlessly nodded her approval, and yanked them down her long legs. She was glorious. So glorious he had to lean down and bite her inner thigh, just softly. Ari yelped, laughing. “Shane!” He looked up at her, checking in.
“Take your pants off.” He didn’t need another reminder. Shane shed his pants and underwear while she took off her t shirt and bra. When she was lying there, the angel that she was, waiting for him – him! He groaned aloud. Wrong noise, he supposed, as her smile turned into a look of worry. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re just so hot,” he groaned again, pouncing on Ari like prey. He didn’t think he had the patience for hours upon hours of foreplay. And who was he kidding? He most certainly didn’t have the stamina. “I’m begging you to let me fuck you,” he mumbled into her hair, kissing and nipping at every part of her exposed neck he could reach.
“You don’t need to beg,” Ari whispered back.
When he pushed inside her, it was the softest, warmest thing he’d ever felt. “Shit, Ari,” he huffed into her neck, and she clutched him closer, wrapping her legs around him again. “You feel so fuckin’ good,” he started up a rhythm inside of her, each thrust met with her perfect moans. He had to remind himself to put her pleasure first, or he was pretty sure he’d be finishing too soon. He brought his hand to her mouth, his thumb dragging down on her bottom lip before Ari opened her mouth wider, letting him in and sucking on it eagerly before he slid his hand down between them, quickly finding her clit and rubbing softly at the spot, driving her wild. “Shane!” She said desperately. He could tell she was trying to be quiet, he wasn’t sure why – she didn’t have any nearby neighbours. It had been a long, long time since Shane had had any kind of action, and he knew he wasn’t about to run a marathon, here. The good thing was, it seemed he’d not lost his touch – Ari seemed to be feeling as good as he was, now. He leaned back, partly sitting up as he shoved into her, giving his hand better access to her clit, which he rubbed in time with his furious thrusts. Ari could only grip Shane’s biceps – he was fairly proud of them – and moan, her hair a mess on her pillows. “I’m gonna-” she whimpered.
Thank fuck for that, he thought. He was nearly there himself. “Come for me,” Shane mumbled, letting Ari’s gasps of pleasure take the space between them. Her walls twitched around him, squeezing as she came. It was all he could do to pull out and spill onto the sheets, landing on her with a sigh when all his energy was spent.
Ari kissed his sweaty neck, his ear, anything she could reach. “That was…”
“Quick, sorry,” He muttered, embarrassed.
“No! It was really nice, was what I was going to say,” she corrected him. She really was too kind. “I’ll, uh, wash your sheets – sorry.”
“Let’s take a shower first,” she decided.
He was fanging for a cigarette, but a shower with Ari sounded like a better idea. Health and wellness, and all that nonsense, he thought.
Fall 5, Year 1
Elliott spent the first few days of Fall shut up in his cabin, head down and pen writing furiously. He was disappointed, of course. More than that, perhaps. But he didn’t have any special claim to Ari. He hadn’t made his feelings clear to her, and even if he had, she didn’t owe him any kind of reciprocation. In his head, he knew this. In his heart, he was gutted. He couldn’t shake the sick and sinking feeling that encased his whole body when he’d turned around that night and seen them together, Shane’s big, rough hands cupping her cheeks, Ari’s hands gripped in his hair. Oh, to be held by her like that - these were the thoughts Elliott had been trying so hard to stop. It wasn’t fair to think of Ari like that. He would continue to be her friend, her confidant. That would have to be enough.
He wasn’t willing to admit that it was a heartbreak – after all, he hadn’t known her long enough to be head over heels, had he? But the something-other-than-heartbreak had proven to be excellent writing fodder, if nothing else. And, coupled with the fact that he hadn’t wanted to be around anyone lately, he’d got plenty of writing done this week. Other than a few short walks on the beach to wring out his writing hand, Elliott hadn’t left his cabin at all. Leah had come knocking once – checking in on him before sitting on the beach to sketch. They’d had a brief conversation about the kiss – in his mind, he preferred to refer to it as ‘the incident’.
“How are you doing, really?” Leah spoke from the doorway. She handed him a salad, but didn’t seem to expect to be invited in.
“I…” the writer was lost for words.
“Yeah. I mean… it doesn’t mean…” Leah grappled for a moment, “sometimes a kiss is just a kiss.”
“Do you know if there has been a flower exchange?” A tradition in Pelican Town – when someone wanted to make their feelings known, and take things to a more serious level, they’d gift their desired person a bouquet of flowers, and ask to make their relationship official. There was a chance that Ari didn’t know about this tradition yet.
“Actually…” Leah had looked down, toeing the sand on Elliott’s front doorstep. “I ran into Marnie last night at the Saloon. She said Shane had chosen sunflowers for Ari…”
Of course. Sunflowers for human sunshine. He couldn’t fault Shane on that. “Ah, I see,” Elliott smiled sadly, “so a kiss isn’t always only a kiss.” Without the direct question, Elliott supposed that Leah didn’t want to be the one to bear the bad news.
“Not this time, I guess. I’m sorry, El.”
Elliott batted away the sympathy like a fly. “It’s not your fault, Leah. It’s not anyone’s fault. She wasn’t ever mine to hold. I can only hope she’s following her heart. I just… I have to admit, I don’t understand… why Shane.” He’d have to make peace with Ari’s choice, of course, if he wanted to remain friends with her. But it would have been so much easier if she’d chosen someone pleasant, someone positive – Harvey, or Penny, or maybe even Sam. But it didn’t make sense to him that the person Ari had fallen for was so… standoffish. Hell, he was in the privacy of his own mind, wasn’t he? Shane was a dick. Shane wasn’t nice to people. Shane wasn’t friendly. Shane was an alcoholic. Shane was the total opposite of Ari.
Leah was something of a mind reader at times. “Opposites attract, I guess. I’ll let you get back to writing. Chin up, my friend. And eat something.”
That was two days ago. Suddenly, it was Friday. And it was Elliott’s birthday. He didn’t feel much like celebrating, but he’d made a decree to himself that the moping phase was done and dusted. Today, he’d turn over a new leaf, bury his feelings, and get on with life. He’d spent most of the morning writing, but gave himself a strict midday deadline, at which point he joined Willy on the dock and spent the afternoon fishing, enjoying the cool Fall breeze and the company. He decided to head to the Saloon a little after six – on a Friday night he knew he’d see most of his friends at the pub.
After putting his rod away and donning his coat – he’d given his catches to Willy to sell – he was about to head out once again when there was a knock at his cabin door. His stomach lurched – he knew that cheery knock. “Come in!” His voice sounded a little strangled. He swallowed, and in walked Ari. She was practically glowing. The sight of her had a smile spreading across his face, despite the cocktail of mixed feelings churning in his stomach. “Ari, you’re looking well. I was just about to head to the Saloon. Care to join me?” He hadn’t exactly planned this, but he supposed he was taking the ignorance-is-bliss route.
She was a little out of breath. She tended to run everywhere. ‘Why take double the time when you can take half?’ She’d asked him once. Why, indeed. Perhaps this was why she’d been so taken with Shane. He didn’t waste time with frivolous conversation. “The Saloon? Sure, yeah. I just wanted to come by – I was hoping you’d be home. I wanted to wish you – I have a present. Sorry, it’s not much.”
“Ari, take a breath,” Elliott chuckled. “Please, sit. Would you like a drink?”
Ari plonked herself down on his bed, rather than the singular chair tucked in at his desk. He hated himself for it, but that was an image now burned into his mind. She did what he said and took some breaths. “Water is fine, thanks Elliott. What was I saying? I was hoping you’d be home. I made you some crab cakes today – with my home-made hot pepper jelly! I’m sorry, it’s not much. But Happy Birthday, is what I’m trying to say.” Elliott handed her a glass of water, and Ari handed him the small package wrapped in brown paper. Still warm.
“Now how did you know I’d love this? And that it’s my birthday today? Thank you so much, Ari. I’m touched,” and he was. It wasn’t even on his mind that she might be aware of the date. He’d have loved to look her in her beautiful face, but she was chugging water. He smiled to himself instead.
“I’m glad you like it, but don’t praise me too much – you haven’t tasted them yet. It was my first time making them. Caught the crabs myself. I got the recipe from Gus.”
“I’m sure they’re delicious – but do you mind if I eat them for lunch tomorrow?”
“Yeah, sure!” Ari stood up, “let’s go get a real drink!” And off they went. Like most residents of Pelican Town, Elliott only locked his door at night. It really was a very safe place to live. “So, how’s your week been? I haven’t seen you since the last day of Summer,” he left out the part about how he’d been holed up in his cabin for most of the week. Ari’s cheeks flamed with a blush on the mention of that night. “Sorry, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind week.”
“No need to apologise. Why’s it been so busy?”
“Well, first week of the season. I’ve had a lot of planting and tilling to do. I’ve been making more sprinklers. Oh, and I got a cow! Her name’s Mercy. Plus… you know Shane?”
Here it was. “We all know Shane,” it was an effort to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Is he… okay?” Possibly a slight reference to his many nights spent in Harvey’s ER getting his stomach pumped. No secrets in Pelican Town.
“Oh, he’s fine. He’s good, actually. We’re sort of seeing each other now,” was Elliott reading into it too much, or was she telling him this like an admission of guilt?
“Sort of? Not officially.”
“Well, I guess it is official, actually. He bought me flowers, so… apparently that’s the done thing here,” she laughed. “It’s a really nice tradition, isn’t it?”
“It’s charming, isn’t it. He’s treating you well?”
“Huh? Yeah, he… cares about me, I think. Like, a lot. I think I told you once a while ago… he was a tough nut to crack.”
He did recall that. Would Elliott himself have had a better chance with the farmer if he’d been rude to her when they’d met? He couldn’t imagine it, though. They were approaching the Saloon in the growing twilight, now. “I’m glad you… cracked him. I hope he knows just how very lovely you are, and how you deserve nothing but the best.” She turned to look up at him now, an indecipherable look in her eyes.
“Thanks, Elliott.” She hugged him suddenly. He was a little on the backfoot, but he wrapped his arms around her. It was over all too soon. “First round is on me,” she grinned as they entered the pub.
Ari did indeed buy Elliott his first drink of the night. Their friends were waiting at Leah and Elliott’s usual table – Harvey, Penny, Emily (in brief stints – she was working, after all), Sam, Abigail, Haley, and even Sebastian. The banter was loud and rowdy, and he was touched that a few other people had thought to give him a gift as well. Ari waved Shane over, but the gruff man didn’t move, only nodded his head in acknowledgement. After a couple of minutes, Ari made an apologetic face at Elliott, and made her leave to the other side of the bar.
By the time the festivities were wrapping up, Gus had called for final orders, and the group were getting their coats on, Elliott was watching as Ari left hand-in-hand with Shane, smiling up at him as though he made the world turn. Elliott, unsure what was possessing him, broke from the small crowd and chased them out the door.
“Ari, wait!” he lurched, a little tipsy, down the Saloon steps. Ari and Shane, clearly heading west towards her farm, stopped and turned around. Shane’s arm was around Ari’s waist, and, Elliott noted with surprise, he wasn’t sucking on a cigarette. Elliott didn’t think he’d ever seen Shane not smoking immediately after leaving the bar. But of course, Ari would affect positive change – she was doing that with the entire town.
“Elliott? Everything okay?”
“I just wanted to say…” what did he want to say? He hadn’t got that far with his plan yet. “Thanks again… for the birthday gift. You’re truly a treasure.”
Ari beamed. “You’re very welcome. I hope it’s been a nice day for you. Now, get home safe!” He couldn’t take his eyes off the way Shane’s fingers tightened ever so slightly on her hip as the couple spun back around.
He was left, watching their retreating figures, as his gang of friends stumbled out the Saloon. Sebastian’s gaze followed Elliott’s, and he wolf whistled at the couple. Shane, without turning around, flipped the unknown whistler off, then turned into Ari’s hair and either kissed her cheek or whispered something. Ari threw her head back in a laugh, stumbling over the cobblestones. Elliott was not a betting man, but he would put money on Ari blushing right now.
Fall 12, Year 1
Elliott was having a good week. He’d made huge progress in his novel draft; he’d seen his fellow townsfolk enough to feel socially fulfilled but not so much as to feel depleted; and he’d had several good hair days in a row. Small wins amounted to a good mood for him.
It was a warm afternoon, probably one of the last for the year, and the breeze was low. Elliott lay back on the small dock planted firmly in the forest lake, his trousers rolled up and feet dangling into the icy water. Next to him sat Leah with her sketchbook. There was the usual comfortable quiet between the pair of them, he could hear the scratching of her pencil on her pad – a familiar sound for the writer – and they’d occasionally say something out loud. Mostly, it was nice to be surrounded by the sounds of nature. Birds twittered lightly, nearby a frog croaked inconsistently, and a family of squirrels played tag through the trees. Whenever he thought he might be missing city life, he’d think about days like this, and be reminded that life wasn’t so peaceful anywhere else on Earth. Yes, it was a good week.
To disturb the quiet, because something always did, a loud bang sounded, causing both Leah and Elliott to stir and wake from their separate daydreams. They both turned their heads to the sound – it had come in the direction of Marnie’s ranch. And the source of the noise was now obvious.
“I don’t know why the hell it’s any of your business, Ari! If I wanted your opinion, I’d ask for it!” Shane yelled.
“Calm down,” the farmer pleaded, “you’re scaring the animals,” she scanned their surroundings, but couldn’t see Leah or Elliott on the dock.
“Don’t change the subject!” The man was drunk. The grass was green. “How are you nagging me about this? You knew who I was when we started dating! You said you liked me for who I am. Well, newsflash, this IS who I am!”
Ari was far less audible, but Leah and Elliott had fallen into a much less comfortable silence now. They hardly dared to breathe, much less move. “I… I care about you, Shane. I just… I want you to…”
“To change? Is that it?” Shane roared. Elliott and Leah looked at one another, wide eyed. How was he screaming at her with this much rage, like it was nothing? His tirade wasn’t done, either. “You get with me, make me think you like me for me, and then as soon as things get serious, you start bitching and moaning about my drinking. I wasn’t fuckin’ hiding it from you, Ari! I’m not the one being dishonest, here!”
Was she going to cry? They weren’t close enough to see, but Elliott was certain he’d be in tears if someone he cared about was attacking him this much. She still sounded very level when she spoke, “Shane, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel attacked.” Elliott frowned. It didn’t sound like she was the one doing the attacking, here. She went on, calmly, “I just know what drink has done to my family. It’s not too late to… I’m here to help you. I want to support you.”
“Ari, I don’t need your support with something I don’t even want to do! It’s my money! And it’s my free time! If I want to have a few beers after work, I’m allowed to! I don’t know why you’re overreacting so damn much. And I don’t appreciate you judging me for it!”
“I’m sorry,” she backtracked, “I don’t want you to think I’m judging you. Can we just go back inside? I’ll make you some tea and you can go to bed early?”
“I’m not a child, Ari! If you actually cared about me, you’d show it by not being a judgemental fucking bitch!”
“HEY!” Elliott was on his bare feet before he knew what he was doing, storming over to the fighting couple. By the time he’d actually reached the stunned pair, he’d realised two things: one, he would not beat Shane in a fight, and two, he was a pacifist. He took a deep breath, and tried to come across as demonstrative. In his private thoughts, he’d have liked to rip Shane’s head off then and there. “Is everything okay, Ari? Shane? Things sounded a little heated for a moment, there.”
Shane crushed the beer can in his hand, mumbling in disbelief, “where the fuck did you come from?” while Ari stumbled over a response. “Oh hi, Elliott. I didn’t see you… Sorry we disturbed you. We’re okay.” She wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Why was she covering for him? He looked between the two of them. “You’re sure? Shane, I,” he’d have to be brave now, “I don’t think you should be talking to your girlfriend like that.” Elliott braced himself for the onslaught of verbal abuse that might now be directed his way. Better he than Ari, though.
Shane looked him up and down. He was hammered, it was clear to see as he swayed on his feet, his stubbly face sweaty and pallid. A few drinks after work, as he’d claimed, didn’t look like this. But instead of the expected abuse, Shane instead folded. “You’re right.” He turned to Ari. “I’m sorry. I lost my temper. I guess I’ve had a few too many. I’m sorry, babe.”
Again, Elliott found himself holding his breath. This felt like a critical moment. Maybe this was the first time Shane had yelled at her, maybe it wasn’t. They hadn’t been dating all that long, so maybe this was the first time frustrations had bubbled over. But this very likely was the first time another person had witnessed it. It couldn’t stay a secret. So she was at a crossroads: roll over and take it, or stand up for herself. Elliott feared he knew what she’d do. But for now, she stood still as a stone. Clearly, Shane was panicking. “Ari, love, I didn’t mean it. I really am sorry. And you were right. I just… I need your help. Will you help me? I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Elliott wished he could sink into the ground. He felt ill. This all felt like such bullshit – a minute ago he was screaming the exact opposite of these sentiments at her. She wouldn’t fall for this, would she?
Still Ari was unmoving. But before she spoke, she quickly glanced at Elliott out the corner of her eye. “It’s… okay. Let’s talk about it inside… it’s okay,” whether she was trying to convince Shane or herself, Elliott didn’t know. The writer stood there, stunned, waiting for her to change her mind.
“Yeah… yeah,” Shane mumbled. He gave Elliott a slight nod, then headed back inside. Ari hesitated, watched Shane’s retreat, then turned to Elliott. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she whispered, “he’s just stressed about a few things… can you just pretend you didn’t hear any of that?” her eyes were pleading.
Elliott exhaled his dismay. “You don’t have to put up with that, you know.”
Ari stiffened. “It’s not like this all the time. He’s not a bad person. Arguments happen. It’s not like I don’t respect myself, if that’s what you’re implying.”
No! “No, Ari, I’m sorry. I just want you to be safe. I know you can take care of yourself,” but you don’t need to take in every stray you come across, either, he thought.
Her gaze softened. “Sorry. It’s been a bit of a stressful day. You’re a good friend, Elliott.”
“You are, too. You know I’ll always care.”
“I appreciate it.” She looked back at the barn, “I have to go. Talk to you soon.”
Elliott trudged back over to Leah on the dock. She pulled a worried face at him. “I hope that was the first time that’s happened.”
“I hope it’s the last.”
Fall 17, Year 1
Sometimes Shane couldn’t bring himself to head home after his shifts at the JojaMart. He couldn’t face Marnie or Jas at the ranch. He couldn’t head to the Saloon because he certainly couldn’t bare to be around anyone else, either. On these evenings, he’d head the back way to the dilapidated community centre north of the main township. Since meeting Ari, these evenings had come fewer and further between, but it was still a crutch that Shane was hesitant to do away with completely.
So that he didn’t have to come across any neighbours on his route, Shane left the JojaMart through the back doors, moving up the bank of the river before he came to a rickety little bridge that would be his way across. From there, it was up the stone steps and across the meadow to the long-standing shell of a building. It had been a wreck since he’d moved to Pelican Town six years ago – he’d never seen it in working order. The path was overgrown, the stairs were creaky, bound to give way one of these days. A family of what he guessed were racoons had taken up residence in the central atrium. Every room seemed a time capsule of how Pelican Town used to be, when Marnie and his mother were little girls. Now, the place was reduced to dust and decay. A bit like Honey Bell Farm, until Ari had shown up.
Still, it was the perfect place to blaze up when the moment called for it. And the last couple of times Shane had visited, it hadn’t seemed so bad. It was like someone was gradually fixing things, or at the least, sweeping up the debris. Maybe he was just seeing the world through rose-tinted glasses, these days. Sometimes, rarely, he’d be joined by Sam and Sebastian. It had been a while since that had happened, though. More often than not, they’d smoke together, and he would smoke alone, a mutual understanding between the three of them that no one should ever find out. The weed was poor quality, imported from the Calico Desert, and, Shane was pretty sure, cut with coconut fibres. But it was still weed. On these nights, Shane would head up to the old office, and grab his secret stash from behind the old broken vault. Tonight was one of those nights. He had a case of whisky hidden, sure. But he also hid a couple of blunts there, too.
Sinking back into the cracked and peeling faux-leather desk chair, Shane lit up and inhaled deeply. He chuckled to himself on the exhale, smoke streaming from his mouth and nose like a dragon. It had been a while. He’d needed this. Unscrewing the cap of this Joja-brand (and awful tasting) whisky, Shane chugged deeply from the bottle, setting it down on the dusty desk with a hard clunk. Today had been torture, alone with his thoughts all day, nothing to occupy his mind but the tedious task of packing shelves. And packing shelves wasn’t exactly rocket science, so it was easy for his mind to wander to the one person that consumed most of his mental capacity, these days: Ari.
Going home to Marnie’s, or heading to the Saloon weren’t the only options available to Shane after his shifts, these days. He could have headed to the farm. He knew he’d have been welcome there. Was he avoiding Ari? Probably, but only because he was so mad at himself for how he’d treated her. But she’d done it, hadn’t she? Brought up the one thing in his life that everyone else skirted around and avoided: his drinking.
Shane knew that everyone in town categorised him with Pam – the two good-for-nothing town drunks who’d never amount to anything. But the thing was, no one actually said it. Gossip was currency in Pelican Town, but actually having confrontations? Well, they wouldn’t be a small, rural town without unspoken feuds and hidden secrets. He was always safe in the knowledge that while there might be silent judgement, no one was actually going to confront him and ask him to make a change. Better still, Shane never let anyone get close enough to him to allow them to inspire change. Until he met Ari.
Ari, who was so unlike anyone else he’d ever met. Ari, who was kind and patient and had this indelible knack for looking past his long, long list of shortcomings and seeing into his heart. Before Ari, he didn’t have anything to live for, really. Sure, he’d stay alive for Jas and for Marnie – he wasn’t a monster who’d leave them devastated because he was too selfish to go on any longer. But there was nothing driving him, motivating him to get up every day and be a better version of himself. Then the young farmer came to town, with her love of learning and desire to help everyone, and he’d fallen under her spell before he knew it. So why was he pushing her away? It wasn’t fair. He’d already let her in. What more did she have to do to convince him that she was going to stay?
He’d grovelled, of course, after their big fight outside the ranch. It had been made all the worse by the presence of that strange writer, Elliott, showing up and overhearing things. Still… without Elliott, would Shane have just continued to roar at Ari, crumbling her with his words? He was scared he already knew the answer to that question. She’d forgiven him, hadn’t she? Had she meant it? He stopped himself at that thought, because he was destined to just go around in circles if he didn’t take Ari at face-value. And she’d always been honest – he owed it to her to believe the things she told him.
So what was the solution to this cycle of self-hatred and inferiority? He supposed he needed to take some of what Ari said seriously. Shane had always been able to justify his drinking to himself with a number of cliches – it’s not like I drink on the job; I pay my way at the Saloon; most people drink after work; I’m not in any debt… the list went on. But those excuses were just denial. He did have a drinking problem.
That was it. He did have a drinking problem.
The problem, really, was that drinking was the only thing keeping the gloom from overwhelming him entirely. He was drowning. That was the truth. And Ari… she was a life buoy. But was that fair? To give her so much responsibility for his wellbeing? But all she was doing was standing in front of him, arms open, saying she was here to help him. To save him. He just needed to… let her. Maybe it could really be that easy.
He did need to stop drinking. He knew it wouldn’t be as simple as that, but a straightforward problem should have a straightforward solution. He already knew he’d make mistakes and hate himself and fall off the wagon. But he needed to try. For the first time in his life, he needed to try.
Shane stubbed out his blunt, hiding the ash tray and lighter back behind the vault. With a deep breath, he turned to the window – it was perpetually stuck half-open – and poured out the final third of the whisky bottle, letting it fall to the ground below. He didn’t hear the shattering of glass, so it must have landed in a bush.
Now it was eight in the evening. He’d usually stay much longer, but with his new resolve, and a decent buzz, Shane felt motivated to get up and do something. Marnie would be up still, and smell the weed on him in a second. So, he did the only thing he really wanted to do now, and made his way towards Honey Bell Farm.
Fall 20, Year 1
He’d had on his mind for a while now to check in on Ari. To head to the farm and have a heart to heart, so determined was he to not leave their last difficult conversation hanging in the air. He’d sought her out at the farm, twice. But she wasn’t there either time. He’d seen her in passing only. Each time, it was a quick hello before she hurried on her way. That, or she was attached to Shane, which wasn’t entirely conducive to a deep and meaningful conversation about her relationship with him. Every time they’d ran into one another, it didn’t seem awkward, and she’d been her usual sunny self, so it was hard for Elliott to tell whether or not she was avoiding him. He hoped she wasn’t, of course. He wasn’t sure how well he could stand it if this stardrop of a human being was actively trying not to see him. But then again, he knew she might be feeling a little hesitant, especially if she felt he was judging her. It was a little sly of him, but today would be the day that he slowed her down and actually had a real conversation. He’d made his way onto the pier, fishing pole in hand, and cast his line, quite strategically, near Ari’s crab pots. She hadn’t checked them in a few days, so she’d be around soon, he hoped. Shane didn’t follow her around while she was working, so they may be able to have a real talk.
Fortune was smiling down on him, it seemed, because in under an hour, Ari came striding down the beach. They were the only two there. “Hi Elliott!” her feet tapped against the wooden planks of the jetty. “Ari! Fancy seeing you here! Caught anything?”
“Let’s see…” Ari pulled up her crab pots one at a time, “Hmm… trash… ooh, an oyster! Trash… woah, a lobster!”
“You’ll be eating well tonight!”
“Unfortunately this one is going to have to go into the farm bin – I need the cash.”
“That is a shame,” he agreed. Lobster was one of his favourite dishes. “Saving up for something?” This felt normal, right? This felt like a typical discussion between friends.
“House renovation, I need more space, I think. I’d like a better working kitchen – especially if I’m going to keep making you crab cakes,” she smiled. “Are you catching much?”
“Not so far, but I haven’t been out here long. Come sit.” Elliott sat down on the dock and patted the spot beside him. She did so without hesitation, though it did feel as if something uneasy was hanging in the air. “Tell me, how’s your week been?”
“Busy. I feel like Winter is going to be pretty tough. I won’t be able to grow much, so I’m just trying to set myself up for success, you know? I’ll have to rely on some other sources of income and food. Foraging and stuff.”
He knew what this meant, and he groaned, “I wish you wouldn’t spend so much time in the mines. It’s so dangerous! What does Shane think of it?”
Ari rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “It’s fine. He… he probably isn’t thrilled, but it’s like he says, we can’t expect to change each other just because we’re in a relationship now.”
If that wasn’t an invitation to cut right to the chase, he didn’t know what was. “So, does that mean you’re not allowed to ask him to drink less?”
Ari flinched slightly. “It’s… complicated, Elliott.”
“Well, I like to think I’m a smart man, I’m sure I can keep up,” when she said nothing, he leant across and gently squeezed her knee. “Come on, Ari. You can talk to me.”
She looked down at her knee, and it seemed the permission she needed to spill what was on her mind. “Well, I can’t help but think he’s kind of right. You can’t go into a relationship expecting things to be good ‘when’, you know?,” when no recognition crossed Elliott’s face, she went on, “Like, ‘we’ll be happy when she doesn’t work 17 hour days’ or ‘we’ll be happy when he stops drinking,’ does that make sense?”
“It makes sense. I’m just concerned you’re… too good for him, if I’m honest.” Honesty was the best policy – within reason.
Ari sighed. “I don’t think I am. I know Shane hasn’t exactly endeared himself to everyone in the town. But deep down, he’s got a good heart. He… he makes compromises, too.”
“Please, enlighten me.” What could that man possibly be sacrificing that could justify how good she was to him?
“Well, he’s smoking a lot less. And I didn’t even ask that of him – he just knows I hate it. He’s drinking less. Really. He’s picked up more shifts at the JojaMart.” Elliott was quiet for a short time, mulling over Ari’s response. He didn’t know how much longer Ari would be open with him about this stuff, so he may as well do his best to get as many of his questions answered as possible, “don’t you think it’s odd… he’s got no friends. He’s more than a decade older than you. He… have you ever actually seen him completely sober? Was none of that a red flag?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, but now was the time to ask these things.
“What are you say- what do you think that means?”
“Well, if I didn’t know any better… it sounds like someone trying to trap someone vulnerable. I’m sorry if that’s an overstep. I think you need to ask yourself these questions, Ari.”
“No, not at all. It’s… nice to have a friend who cares. Is that what everyone in the town is saying? That he’s trapped me?”
“Ari, you know I’m not aboard the gossip train in town. I’m sure people have come to their own conclusions – those are just mine.”
“You make it sound like… he couldn’t get anyone else and so he’s settled for me…” Her face fell, looking down at the water, shrinking in on herself.
“Settled?! No! You… you’re… Ari, you’re utterly lovely. Any person in town would be the luckiest person on the planet to be loved by you… Shane is the luckiest person. He- Anyone who you end up with most definitely won’t have settled! I… I would like to trust your judgement, because you’re clever and discerning. But… I guess it’s just a bit stunning to me that Shane has so many…”
“Character flaws?” She asked with a bit of a huff.
“Character complications, maybe.”
“He’s not a bad person, Elliott.”
“I’d love to know what you like about him,” he looked across at her in time to see the blush colouring her cheeks. She was looking happier, at least. A shame that it was at the mention of Shane, for Elliott. But anything to see her smile, really.
“Really?”
“I’m sure it would make me more understanding of your choices. Plus, I’m going to have to be his friend, too, if he means this much to you.”
She was smiling properly, now. “It kind of just… fell into place, in a way. He was the first person to open up to me, which was not what I was expecting at all. I mean, other than you and Leah. When he’s sober… when he’s drinking less, he’s actually really thoughtful. He can be sweet. And, look, I have to be honest, there is something in the fact that he’s sweet to me, and not necessarily anyone else. It makes me feel… secure, you know, that he’s not out flirting with anyone else. Maybe that just shows how insecure I am but… it’s the truth,” she finished quietly.
“Right. I suppose I’ll have to give him a chance. For you.”
“Elliott?”
“Ari?”
“You’re… can you just tell me what you really think? Please. I know you’ve got more to say than just that.”
What he really thought was a can of worms he was sure it wasn’t safe to open. He ran through the list in his head. What I really think, Ari? I’m falling more in love with you as every day goes by. Supporting you in this relationship is making me want to tear my hair out – and you know how serious a claim that is for me. If you’d fallen for someone kind and good, someone like Leah or someone like Harvey, I’d have to do my best to be happy for you. It would hurt, but I’d know you were in safe hands, and I’d have to make peace with that. But Shane? Shane, who screams at you out in the open. Shane, who doesn’t even return your earth-stopping smiles. Shane, who doesn’t want to be around your friends? Shane, who doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being sober around you most of the time? Him, I cannot abide. Knowing you’re with someone who you’re settling for. Seeing how upset he makes you. Hearing how you’re kidding yourself into thinking this is all you deserve – it’s damn near devastating. All the while my unrequited affection rages inside me, and I feel wild and mad as the sea on a stormy night. I feel like a deranged stalker every day that I’m not just honest with you. Since the moment you entered my life, my mind has been fraught with complication and yearning. I grapple with my own morals – should I just tell you the truth? Would it devastate you to know that someone who claims to be your friend harbours all these secret feelings? Would you consider me if I told you what’s on my mind? I’ll take it to my grave when you tie the knot with Shane, the knot that’ll be a noose for my feelings.
He said none of this. He’d certainly pour it into his writings, later. But Ari would never know. Instead, he said, “You mean a lot to me, Ari. I don’t want to lose our friendship. And as long as you’re with Shane, I won’t stop making an effort to get along with him. But I’m glad I overheard him the other day – and I don’t regret interrupting. He should know that the way he was speaking to you – drunk or not – is not acceptable. And I would do it again and again, if the message would get through to him. I don’t... I’m finding it very hard to respect him right now. And I don’t think you understand how much better you deserve. I hope he can become the man you deserve. And I also hope you know it’s not a binding contract – you’re allowed to leave if you’re unhappy.”
Ari lay back, watching the clouds. Elliott watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed calmly. “You know what, Elliott? I think you might be the best friend I’ve ever had. I know that’s weird to say – we’ve only known each other since the start of the year. But I don’t think I’ve ever had someone just speak their mind to me like you do. I really appreciate your honesty. I think we’re the same like that, aren’t we?” Judging by her reaction, his partial honesty went better than he’d expected it to. He wished he had a crystal ball, and could somehow see how she might react if he told her his true feelings for her. Maybe a trip to the wizard was in order.
“Did you ever have a serious relationship, before coming here?” He asked suddenly.
“Pretty easy to tell I’m a bit fresh at all this, huh? I dated a little in college. Nothing as serious as it is with Shane.” That made sense somehow. “How about you?”
“I’ve had two loves. Neither panned out, but I wish them both the best. One day I might find the one for me.”
“Maybe you know her already,” Ari looked up at him with a smile. Now what could that possibly mean? His heart had felt like it stopped. “Ari… what do you-”
“I don’t mean to get involved in your personal life,” she interrupted. “But don’t you think that sometimes you don’t know what’s happening right in front of you? Or who’s been there all along?”
He was perplexed. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said cautiously. He could have said the exact same thing to her. Here I am! he felt like yelling. Right here in front of you!
“Thanks for the talk, El. I have to keep moving,” the farmer stood up, brushing invisible dust from her jeans. “Hope you catch something good.”
Catching something other than feelings would be nice.
Fall 27, Year 1
Spirit’s Eve. Not Elliott’s favourite holiday in the town – which was fair enough, he wasn’t the intended demographic for the celebration as it was certainly more focussed on the few children of Pelican Town, but it was nice to get together with everyone again for food and, of course, beer. Elliott, as introverted as he could sometimes be, still enjoyed the way the town had so many traditions and celebrations. It really fostered a sense of community, and he’d always make sure to attend. There was a sense, between all the residents, that if ever they asked, the town would show up. This year, the organisers had really gone out of their way to make the crisp autumn night feel ominous and thrilling. The spread of Fall treats was the best he’d ever seen it – pumpkin scones, corn bread, fresh grape juice, candied yams, artichoke and beet dips – the list went on, and it all smelled delicious. He really shouldn’t have eaten dinner before he’d walked up to the town. But he’d find the room, somewhere. Elliott supposed that a great deal of it had come from Ari’s farm, and felt a misplaced swell of pride that she’d had such a positive impact on the community.
The night air was icy, but the wind seemed to be keeping away for the night, which was helpful. Elliott himself had ran a little late this evening, he simply had to finish the chapter he was working on. By the time he’d arrived, shuffling up the long path from the beach, it seemed the whole town was already there. He greeted Marlon and Linus – two fellows he didn’t always have the opportunity to catch up with during the many annual festivities. He found Haley and Penny before he found Leah, and so got talking to them for a while.
“How’s your Fall been?” Penny enquired quietly. Truthfully, anything Penny said was usually quiet. Elliott enjoyed his conversations with Penny – she was well read and interesting, but she was so terribly shy.
“It’s been…” Elliott pondered, “eventful. And yours?”
Haley cut in, “how can it have been eventful? All you do is sit at your desk and write all day.”
Elliott gave her a warm smile, “Haley, it’s always a pleasure to see you,” he wasn’t being entirely sarcastic, either. He was always quite amused by the blonde woman.
She frowned at him. “Are you maybe referring to the Ari and Shane stuff?”
“Haley,” Penny chided. Elliott could feel his cheeks growing red. “I- I don’t know what you mean.” Had Leah spilt his secret? He doubted it. He was probably just far more transparent with his yearning that he thought he was being. He’d need to work on that.
“Oh, come on!” At least Haley was doing him the kindness of speaking quietly. Not that she’d probably be heard over the music, conversations, and groaning of the monsters in the cage nearby. “You obviously like her. We’ve all seen the way you look at her. It must be really hard.” She did seem like she was genuinely sorry for Elliott’s plight. He didn’t mind the sympathy.
“As long as she’s happy, I suppose I’ll just have to put it all behind me,” the writer conceded.
Both Penny and Haley looked at him sadly for a moment. Then Haley said, “no way. We’re totally rooting for you. You’re, like, her Romeo.”
Elliott chuckled at that. Penny shook her head in amusement. “That’s not the example we really want to use…”
Haley considered this. “Okay, you’re her Edward Cullen?”
Elliott was laughing. Penny winced, “I guess that’s better… you are a little vampirish, Elliott,” she smiled shyly.
“Now I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or a slight,” he admitted good-naturedly. Elliott excused himself to grab a drink, and Sebastian sidled up to him. “Elliott, how are you, man?”
“I’m well. Happy Spirit’s Eve, Sebastian. Have you conquered the maze yet?”
“Oh, absolutely. First one done, I think. Hey, you should give it a go this year. They’ve really made it extra spooky. I’ll listen out for your screams.”
“Thanks, Seb.” Elliott turned towards the maze. He took one last look at the crowd around him – he couldn’t see Leah anywhere. Maybe she was already in the labyrinth. He necked his beer. Oh, why not? He moved towards the entrance. It was much darker than he expected in the maze, and he turned right, stumbling over the rocky ground as his eyes adjusted. He heard the yelp before he realised who he’d walked straight into. “Harvey? Did I hurt you?”
The town’s doctor stood millimetres away from Elliott, having backed himself into a corner of the hedge. “Elliott – I’m fine. Is there a way out? I’ve been stuck in here for ages. I’m a man of logic and science, but there’s something really… off about this place.” Elliott pointed out the way he’d come from. “Doctor Harvey, don’t tell me you believe in ghosts now. Turn this corner and keep walking until you see the exit on your left. Have you seen Leah?”
“Thank you. Leah? Haven’t seen her, sorry.” Elliott continued on through the winding lanes, his eyes gradually able to see a little better in the darkness. In fact, his eyes adjusted just in time for the fog to take over. How had they managed that? Sebastian and Harvey had been right, he realised, there was a truly spooky feeling taking over him as he felt his way through the labyrinth. The giant spiders had been a particularly creepy touch, and Elliott shuddered as he left them behind. It really looked like they were breathing, their glowing eyes following him as he weaved his way through, ensuring he didn’t touch any. As he moved through the maze, he realised how silent he had become, trying not to so much as break a stick underfoot as he moved, as though he was being hunted. Or as though he were the hunter. His hearing adjusted in the fog, and he heard mumbling voices not too far off. Could he work out who it was without seeing them? He stood utterly still. Harvey had to have made it out by now…
“Shane!” It was Ari, giggling. “We can’t here! Shh!” She was on the other side of the hedge wall. She sounded so close. He could hear the rustling of leaves. He couldn’t see through the hedge in the gloom, but they were right there, only feet away.
“Oh, come on,” Shane was mumbling, as if talking directly into her skin. She’d smell of strawberries, he knew that much. “We’re just kissing. No one will see us.”
“Shane…”
Elliott’s nerves stood on end. Was she in trouble? Would he be able to get to her in time? But Ari laughed again. They could just be flirting. Kissing noises. “Shane…” she tried again.
“That feel good?”
“Mm… but we shouldn’t… somebody could see us.” Fabric against fabric. More leaves rustling. Was that a zipper?
“You look so pretty… You want me to stop?”
“… No. Don’t stop.”
Well, she didn’t seem like she was in distress. She seemed like she was having a wonderful time, actually. She was fine. Once that was ascertained, he felt the express urge to run from where he was. He felt sick, as he turned, because while he was desperate to get away, his brain still recognised that her sounds were entrancing. He snapped out of it, feeling like a disease on humanity. He had to get away, and fast, when suddenly-
“BOO!”
Elliott screamed.
Ari screamed.
Shane stopped what he was doing, heart hammering and fingers freezing.
Abigail was cackling. She’d appeared suddenly and horrifyingly on Elliott’s side of the hedge. “Your face! That was too good!” Elliott prayed to Yoba that she wouldn’t say his name. Anything but let them know he was so nearby. And what excuse could he give? He hadn’t gone looking to find Ari, but no one would believe that. Abigail was laughing too hard to say much, for now. Elliott stood like a statue, willing his heart rate to come down to a reasonable level, while Abigail doubled over in laughter. “Exit is this way!” She pointed in an arbitrary direction before she disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived. Usually, he liked the strange woman. This moment was an exception.
Elliott’s heart was in his throat. He could hear Ari and Shane again. He heard a thud, imagined her swatting his chest. “That was too close – I told you we shouldn’t do that here – there are people everywhere!” she was laughing breathlessly.
“I couldn’t help myself,” Shane said in a low voice, “you just look too damn good.”
“You’re just drunk,” the farmer reasoned. She didn’t sound upset.
“Am not… well, only a little. What, it’s a holiday. Babe, it’s my first drink in three days. And anyway, it doesn’t make you any less pretty… in that skirt… let’s try again…”
“We can’t do this here! We were so close to getting caught! That would be so embarrassing, Shane!”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to take you back to the farm, then… I need to taste you,” he replied gravely. Elliott could practically hear Shane’s stubbled scraping over her soft skin. And while he understood the desire, his lips curled back in horror. He could hear Ari’s laugh again. Shane wasn’t finished, though, “I mean it, you’re all mine,” Shane growled. She squealed, still laughing. “Put me down!”
“Nope, I’m carrying you out of this maze and all the way home.” They were moving now. And Elliott realised that if he didn’t want to be caught, he’d need to bolt or hide. Bolt it was, and quickly, before they came around the corner. Somehow, he managed to successfully retrace his steps without seeing the couple. He stumbled out of the maze about thirty seconds before he watched Shane carrying Ari over his shoulder, the pair of them chatting and smiling as though this were the most normal thing in the world. Shane immediately headed west, straight towards the farm, the happiest Elliott had ever seen him. Well of course he would be happy, he had Ari.
“You made it out,” Harvey observed happily, coming over to Elliott with two beers in his hands.
“Glad to see you did, too,” Elliott thanked Harvey for the beer. He could really do with a drink right about now. Not to sound like Shane.
“Did Abigail scare you, too?” Harvey asked, unamused.
Elliott nodded. “One of the most frightening moments of my life,” he said honestly, without elaborating. The only thing that might have been worse than hearing Ari and Shane getting it on, would have been hearing him hurt her. So, he supposed this was a good outcome. Ari was being… loved. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to let his guard down and trust Shane. Was that even his place? Probably not. But he cared. Of course he cared. He’d care if it was Leah, wouldn’t he? He’d care if it was Penny. And he was no longer under the illusion that he could kid himself into not being in love with Ari. He cared most of all, because he'd never met someone so perfectly lovely in all his life. He burned for her. And now he felt sick that her soft moans were entirely imprinted on his mind. He’d have loved to hear them under different circumstances, but there was no shaking them out, only pushing them down and praying they wouldn’t revisit him in his fitful slumber.
Fall 28, Year 1
To rise before Ari was quite a feat – the famer rose with the sun usually. But on the last day of Fall, something had her still sleeping soundly while Shane rose in the growing light. He knew why he was awake: a nicotine addiction he was trying his best to shake. He also had an inkling about why she was still snoozing an hour past her usual wake-up time, and that inkling made him feel pretty good about himself. Last night had been something out of this world. At least, from his perspective. He was pretty confident Ari would say the same thing. Yoba knows he’d tried.
Quietly as he could manage, Shane extracted himself from the bed, sliding out from underneath Ari’s arm slung across his chest. He held still as a statue while she stirred a moment, but her eyes didn’t open, and she stilled once more. She looked a beautiful mess, dark hair splayed out on the pillow, her bare back on display and limbs sticking out of the covers at random angles. He wanted to lean down and kiss her, but he wanted a smoke more. He was now pretty well-versed in which of her floor boards were creaky, and avoided them as he gabbed for his shorts and headed out to the porch.
He stretched, naked, taking in the whole of the farm. She’d done so much in her time here this year. Fences were up, irrigation was working, saplings were growing more each day. He was proud of her. He wanted to help out more. Shane put on his shorts and sat on the porch steps, rifling around for his packet of cigarettes and lighter. He’d been craving this for about twenty-four hours now. That was pretty good, for him. And after their escapades last night he figured he deserved a few puffs.
Shane wasn’t really one for festivals, or festivities, really. It was Marnie and Jas who typically dragged him along and made him join in with the town’s many traditions. Still, some of them had panned out in his favour. He may not be with Ari now if he hadn’t danced with her in the Spring. Plus, there was usually free food and booze to be had – so it wasn’t all bad. And he didn’t want to be a total pariah – he did actually enjoy parts of the Valley, and wouldn’t want to be shooed away from his home. But Spirit’s Eve had suddenly skyrocketed to his new favourite celebration. And that maze was ingenious. Vignettes from the night before flashed through his mind as he took long, slow drags of his cigarette. His only cigarette for the next 24 hours, he vowed to himself.
Ari in the gloomy light of the maze, her smooth skin a strange green in the low lighting and the fog. Last night, she’d had on a green tank top and flowing white skirt with cowgirl boots – and she’d looked divine. It was a challenge not to just press her up against the hedge wall of the maze and let his hands explore under the flimsy cotton of her garments. A challenge he happily failed.
He remembered way she wasn’t wearing a bra, how her nipples had stood to attention against his fingers, the contrast of his stubble against her smooth skin when he took his mouth to her breasts. He remembered her unzipping his fly, and wondering just what her intentions were – no way would she be keen on having sex in the maze – and he wasn’t entirely sure he would be, either. But everything felt so good with her, and fooling around like this made him feel giddy. He didn’t even think the three beers he’d drank could be credited for it – Ari was just intoxicating to him. And just when her hand was on his dick, the cotton of his boxers a frustrating barrier – someone had scared the living shit out of them both. And someone else nearby, too.
Ari had been on a strange high when he’d carried her home, laughing and pretending to struggle. Probably a bit of elation at the fact that they’d very nearly been caught, and how humiliating that would have been, and how they’d ultimately gotten away with it. He was animalistic in his need for her, that was what it always came down to. He truly felt feral in the presence of her pheromones. And when he’d said he needed to taste her, he couldn’t have sounded desperate enough.
They didn’t turn the lights on. Chucking her onto the bed, her body bouncing just slightly against the soft bedding as she cackled, “Shane!” how was she so surprised by the effect she had on him? Ever since their first kiss, he’d been hooked. Truthfully, before that, he was hooked. Why else would he have kept letting her in, time after time. This felt like the reward for his vulnerability, unlimited and unfiltered access to this goddess before him. She beckoned him forward in the moonlight streaming through the window. He had smirked, grabbing her by the ankles and dragging her to the bottom of the bed.
“What are you up to?” She’d laughed. He knelt before the alter of her legs, spreading them easily. “I told you,” he mumbled, reaching under her skirt to drag her panties down with limited care. She still had her boots on, and the underwear hung from one foot – he didn’t have the time or patience to get her completely naked. He pushed her skirt up, pulling her even closer and more open. “I have to taste you,” he reiterated. He could feel the lust rolling off his body in waves.
Taste her he did. Greedily and messily, not coming up for air until his kneeling legs were long numbed and she was writhing and crying out, the backs of her legs slick with sweat as she gasped his name. “Shane, please!” she repeated, agony and oversensitivity setting in as he made her come on his tongue for the third time. “I need…” she gasped, pulling his hair.
Yeah, he knew what she needed. He made sure to give it to her. And then again at about three in the morning.
Shane stubbed out his cigarette. His dick had stiffened at the memory of last night, and he was blushing. “Better than booze,” he mumbled to the empty farm, wondering what completely sober sex might feel like. Last night was pretty close. Imagine how it could be if he wasn’t numbed to all the sensations that made life real. The wonderful thing was, he was only a little scared for the prospect – he was also excited. He was by no means sober, of course. The longest he’d gone now had been a whole two days, an he’d felt thirsty the entire time. But the prospect wasn’t so out of reach, was it?
Smooch padded over to Shane, panting for pats, which he happily gave her, roughly scrubbing her around her belly like she loved. “You know what this means, Smoochie?” he asked the dog. She licked at his face by way of answer. “It means I need to marry her.” It also occurred to him, blood still pumping southwards, that he was sober right now. Maybe the fantasy of sober sex wasn’t out of the question. He gave Smooch one more scratch, then headed back inside.
Chapter 4: Winter, Year 1
Chapter Text
Winter 3, Year 1
As always in the Valley, the first day of Winter had brought with it the snow, frost, sleet and an unforgiving, icy cold. A lot of the time, it looked beautiful, but the blizzards could be frightening. Residents of Pelican Town could spend days locked up in their homes – especially those who lived on the outskirts of town. Elliott preferred the colder weather, but Fall never adequately prepared him for the Winter chill. Living at the beach really tested the sturdiness of his little cabin, many nights he’d lie awake, the wind howling through the boards as he wondered whether he’d be waking up to the sound of tearing metal or crashing planks. Some nights, he’d wonder whether he’d be waking up at all. But this was Elliott’s third Winter in the Valley, and his beloved shack hadn’t failed him yet. As an added bonus, Ari had kindly provided him with enough firewood to get through the long season, a concern he was now absolved from.
Not that his stock of firewood had touched the chill in the air on this morning. He sat at his desk, scarf wrapped snuggly round his neck and fingerless gloves allowing him to write – barely – with slowly freezing fingers. At least his long hair kept his ears and cheeks warm. The wood stove he used for both cooking and warmth didn’t seem to be touching the frosty air. Hard wood burns slower, he decided when he’d chucked another log on. By evening, he’d be snug and warm. The trick was to keep the fire burning. He wouldn’t be surprised if he could see his breath indoors some mornings – the wood stove would burn low in the early hours in the mornings when he slept. The wind whistled quietly at his door, as if to agree with him. Then, a quiet knock. Who could that be on a day like this? Willy? He chanced a peek through his frosted window before opening the door to Ari. Lacking her usual cheery tell. “Come in,” he ushered her in immediately, horrified she wasn’t dressed any warmer. The young famer was still wearing her sturdy sun hat, which had, over time, become a little floppier around the brim. She needed a Winter beanie. She wore jeans, one knee ripped, tucked into her brown leather boots. Boots which, unlike when he’d first met her, were scuffed, supple and followed the shape of Ari’s calves obediently. She needed a wool-lined pair, really. He could see a pink plaid collar poking out of her creamy beige sweater. Her cheeks were wind bitten; her hair whipped around her neck, and she worked to untangle it and smooth it out as she stepped into the cabin. He supposed it would be strange to offer to brush it for her, so he said nothing. Compared to the air outside, his cabin suddenly felt warm. “You need a coat, Ari,” Elliott scolded her, moving to his small kitchen and starting to set the kettle to boil. “Tea?”
“Please. I brought strawberry jelly,” she handed him the small jar. He’d bought a fresh loaf of bread just yesterday. “Perfect,” he smiled, “please, sit yourself near the fire. You need to thaw out.”
Ari rolled her eyes, “I’m fine, El. All that running keeps me warm. But I have to be a bit more careful, I’ve slipped and fallen on my ass twice now!”
“I’ll add that to the list of things to be worried about you for. That, and your underground activities,” Elliott added disapprovingly.
“How did you know about that?” Ari wondered, automatically gripping her left arm. Underneath her clothes, it was thoroughly bandaged. Those mines were no walk in the park. “I thought you didn’t concern yourself with the gossip mill,” she rolled her eyes as she slightly misquoted him. Elliott began slicing bread, buttering the slices and giving each a thick layer of the strawberry jelly. When a smear of it got on his finger, he tasted some. So sweet.
“I ran into Harvey are Pierre’s. He told me you needed twelve stitches in your arm! Twelve! I haven’t had twelve stitches in my life!”
Ari shrugged. “Good thing I’m tough, isn’t it?”
“That you are, my dear friend. But not altogether sensible,” Elliott poured them each a cup of tea, precariously carrying both cups and the plate of bread over to the farmer. Ari was sitting on the floor near his pot-bellied stove. It’d be nice to have a proper fireplace, one day. Now that he was thinking about it, it seemed suddenly warm in the cabin. She sat easily cross-legged - all that farm work kept her agile. It took a bit more effort for him to mirror her position. “Did you catch anything in your crab pots today?”
“I haven’t checked them yet – I just wanted to visit you.” That admission warmed his heart. She was here to see him, she wasn’t just seeing him incidentally. Moments like this, he felt like he was in school again. Only in school, his aching crush was on his English teacher, not the local farmer. Though his feelings for Ari had extended long past a crush. But being delighted to see Ari, he considered thoughts like these of the ‘allowed’ variety – anyone would be happy that a friend went out of their way to see them. This wasn’t a ‘love’ thought, it was merely a ‘friendship’ thought, and was thus allowed. “That’s nice to hear,” he told her earnestly, “people tend not to come to the beach much in Winter. It’s just Willy and I a lot of the time.”
“Good thing he’s good company,” Ari said sincerely. “I’ll visit you more often, how about that?”
Oh, Ari. The pleasure of your company could warm me all Winter. “I’d like that. How are things on the farm?- Yoba, this jam really is good!”
“I’ll make you another batch when strawberries are back in season – I’m glad you like it. The farm… things are slow at the start of the season. I’m trying to grow powdermelons, mostly. Maybe some Winter yams. I think I’ll be relying on the animals to keep the lights on this season, to be honest. Shane’s been helping me with the chooks,” she smiled at the mention of him.
“How is Shane? Treating you well?”
Ari bit her lip. He couldn’t decipher what that meant. She seemed deep in thought, not replying right away. “He’s… it’s… he has his good days and bad days. We all do, really, don’t we?”
“Is today a bad day?” Elliott had an inkling.
Ari hesitated, then nodded her head.
“And what’s a bad day like?”
Ari looked across at Elliott. Did he detect a flicker of fear in her toffee eyes? “A bad day is… tough. He’s… a little hard to be around. It’s not like he’s in a foul mood the whole time, but… He does shout a bit. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere, so… it can be hard because it feels normal, and suddenly, it’s…” she admitted, staggering her thoughts and words. Knowing Ari as well as he did, Elliott could mostly keep up. Ari went on, “I just worry for him, more than anything. I care about him. His mental health… it isn’t great.” There were always excuses for him.
Suddenly, a sickening thought struck Elliott. “Ari. Those stitches. Your arm. Did that really happen in the mines?”
She looked startled, then horrified. “What!? Oh my gosh, it wasn’t Shane. It happened in the mines, I swear, Elliott. He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t. I know you don’t like him, but you need to believe he’d never do that.”
“Just the verbal abuse then,” He replied, taking stock of Shane’s callousness and unable to help how bitter he sounded.
“Yeah.” She realised he’d caught her out, “wait, no. Come on, don’t be cruel. Everyone shouts sometimes,” she frowned at him.
“We’ve never shouted at one another,” Elliott pointed out. He knew she was uncomfortable, but he would not drop his gaze. “I don’t believe you ever have a reason to scream at the people you love.”
“This is different. You’re different to him, and you know it…” Her eyes were downcast again.
“How is it different?” He challenged her, voice low. His green eyes bore into her brown ones. Things felt suddenly too intimate, and he didn’t want to put her into a compromising position, but he also was unprepared to let this go.
Ari didn’t rise to the challenge. Instead, she dropped her gaze. “You’re being mean,” Ari mumbled, looking down at the floor.
Gently, he lifted her chin. “Ari. I’m being honest. You know that. You’re a smart girl. You know this. I know you’ll think about this,” this was probably inappropriate. She was probably uncomfortable. He shouldn’t touch her like this. He let her chin go.
“You didn’t ask me what he’s like on a good day.”
“Ari, I don’t know that any number of good days could outweigh the fact that I know he screams at you. Just…” he clenched his fist in frustration, shoving it into his jacket pocket so that she might not see. “You are worth more than this, Ari. I won’t ever stop telling you that.” It wouldn’t matter how many times a day Shane called her beautiful, or how good a lover he was (loathe as Elliott was to even consider that scenario), or how many fences he fixed around the farm. She deserved more. He’d offer more in a heartbeat.
“I guess… not everyone can have a relationship like you and Leah,” was what the farmer said next, which left Elliott baffled. He could never have predicted that in a million years.
“I-I…” he didn’t even know where to begin, “H- how do you mean?”
“Well, I don’t mean to overstep. Neither of you really talk about it, and I don’t know if you’re official or anything. Or what you want to call it. Obviously, there’s something between the two of you. But, just because you and Leah have one type of intimate relationship – and you’re very sweet together, don’t get me wrong – it doesn’t mean everyone else’s relationship will be like that.”
Elliott had to set his teacup down lest it spilled. “Ari… Leah and I are only friends. Good friends, yes. But we never… there’s never been anything between us. Not ever. Ari, you do know Leah is a lesbian, don’t you?” Obviously she didn’t. But Leah was pretty open about it, so this was a little hard to believe. Elliott thought he wasn’t interested in the gossip of Pelican Town. But Ari was even more removed than he was. Great, another reason to adore her.
Ari’s mouth dropped open, though she immediately picked it back up. “Oh… oh! I’m sorry. I assumed… I don’t know why I assumed. I thought you were, like, extremely in love with her. Or she was in love with you. I thought at the very least you were sleeping together!” They were both laughing, now. “I’m sorry!”
He waved her apology away. “She is going to love this! Ari, how long have you thought this?”
She was giggling, “Oh, I don’t know! Since the first time the two of you invited me to the Saloon for a drink when I first moved. I thought you were a couple then. But then I couldn’t work it out, because you weren’t official – so I thought maybe friends with benefits. But you never kissed or anything, so I figured you were either super private, or you were just friends. You both seemed so off-limits to everyone else, so I thought it was an understanding that the two of you… oh, I don’t know. I guess… she has talked about exes in front of me, guys and girls… I assumed she was bi. I couldn’t make sense of it, when I saw you two together… I just thought something was going on! And then I tried to test it – remember, I asked you to dance with me. And you were her partner, so I thought, ‘oh, he’s with her.’ And in my mind that was just confirmed…”
All this time, she’d assumed he was Leah’s to have. Did that mean – he didn’t let himself think about it for too long. For now, the tension had broken, and they ended up having a lovely afternoon. It was probably just what Ari needed after whatever had transpired that morning with Shane. They played cards for a bit, spoke about only unserious matters from then on, and even indulged in a glass of wine before five o’clock. “Thank you for today.” Ari told him sincerely as she was getting ready to leave.
“You’re sure you won’t borrow a coat?” the growing dark outside was much colder than when she’d arrived. The days were much shorter. Elliott’s cabin was sufficiently warmed now, as were his spirits.
Ari chuckled. “That would not be a good idea. I’ll be fine. I’ll get home quick.”
He wanted her to stay. He wanted to tell her that there would be no bad days with him. He couldn’t really make that promise, he knew. But he could promise to treat her with kindness. With tenderness. With eternal care.
He said nothing.
“Bye Elliott. I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye, Ari.”
He couldn’t write any more for the rest of the evening. He found himself pacing the length of his cabin, all the events from the last three seasons swirling over in his mind. That time they swam in the lake on her farm – was the only thing stopping her from kissing him her muddled understanding that he might belong to Leah? He might be reading into it, all the looks that passed between them… did they mean something? Was he entirely to blame – his cowardice, his inaction, his failure to launch – for his own unhappiness now? Probably, yes. A while ago, they’d been talking about love. He’d said he hoped to find the love of his life, and she’d said, what? ‘Maybe you already know her?’ He’d played that over and over in his mind, and it had made no sense, because she’d never betray Shane. But who else could she have meant? Now Elliott knew – she’d meant Leah. That part was still a little funny – how did that sweet farmer get through almost a year in the Valley without that piece of information reaching her ears? He did suppose that no one else knew how much Leah was pining for the mystic-minded bar maid, Emily. Leah, apparently, was a lot more subtle that he was. But he could only be amused by that small factor for so long before his misery would come calling for him once again. The fact of the matter was that he was too late.
He was too late.
Was he too late?
Winter 9, Year 1
“I thought I might find you here,” A female voice said softly. Elliott looked up from his booth in the corner of the Saloon – not his usual seat, and not his usual drinking night. To his surprise, Haley was looking down at him, her clear blue eyes awash with sorrow. “Move over,” she muttered, and he scooched further into the booth.
Haley, in an out-of-character move for her, sat next to Elliott in silence for a minute. Then, atop the slightly sticky table, she leant over and gave his hand a comforting squeeze. Elliott bit his lip, willing himself not to cry. He hadn’t cried yet. Not once during this whole drama. But tonight, he was close. He was the first one to speak, hopeless as he shrugged his shoulders and said, “she’s marrying him.”
Obviously, Haley knew this. Obviously, if there was news to be spread within their small township, Haley would task herself with that job. Obviously, that’s why she was sitting here, in the Saloon, with him, rather than hanging out with Alex or Abigail or Penny. Instead of pointing any of this out, she said, “Emily told me. He got her advice about… you know, the gemstone.”
In the Valley, wedding bands were used to symbolise marriage. But for engagements, necklaces were gifted. Traditionally, these had been shell necklaces. Nowadays, though, precious stones were more appealing to young people. Not to mention longer lasting. Emily was the resident expert on all things mineral. There was no town jeweller, but if they had to elect someone, Emily was a stand-out. The necklace itself would have probably been forged by Clint, with Emily’s design. Out of curiosity, he asked, “what did he go with?”
“I think it was like a blue sapphire, or something…”
Ari would have preferred green. It was plain to see that Shane’s favourite colour was blue – it was all he ever wore, even excluding his JojaMart uniform. “Tell me about it,” Elliott said quietly. Haley frowned at him, “are you sure?” Elliott nodded. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know, but he felt he did.
“Well it happened this morning, in the forest. He set up a picnic, near the lake. He set up a little fire to keep them warm. Then, I guess he got down on one knee and asked her to… you know.”
“Be his wife,” Elliott finished needlessly.
“Are you okay?” Haley asked. Honestly, it was touching that she was checking in on him. Especially with Leah away, on a trip to Zuzu City to showcase a few of her artworks in the state gallery. What a week for her to be away! She’d come back to Ari as a married woman and Elliott in pieces. He returned to the question. “I’m…. no, Haley, I’m not okay.” She squeezed his hand again. “I know how you feel,” she murmured.
Did she? Elliott cocked his head at her, confused. Haley was a classic beauty – she could get anyone she wanted, surely. What did she know of longing? She seemed like nothing had ever been difficult for her in her life. “Wanting someone you can’t have…” she continued. “I know it hurts, Elliott.”
This was baffling. Haley had been on and off with Alex as long as he’d known the pair. From where Elliott stood, there never really seemed to be drama surrounding the two of them. They just weren’t that serious. Never exclusive, never moved in together, she’d never called him his boyfriend. Who was calling the shots there? “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she wasn’t going to give her secrets away that easily. Elliott realised that for as much as Haley knew about the townsfolk, he’d never really gotten to know her. He felt guilty about that. “I just want you to know you’re not alone and… well, I know I like to talk but… if you do need someone to confide in, I’m a pretty good listener, too.”
“Thank you, Haley. Really.” She was the last person he expected to be comforting him on this Winter’s night. But he was grateful. “So… the wedding’s…”
“The usual. Town Square. Three day’s time. Will you come? You can be my date, if you like.”
“But Alex…”
“Alex doesn’t need my support right now. You do. Will you come to the wedding?”
The thought that he had an option hadn’t really crossed his mind. It might be the perfect time to come down with the stomach flu, but he knew he’d never really make excuses when push came to shove. “Yes. I’ll be there. She’s my friend. I’d be honoured to take you as my date… as my friend.”
They smiled at one another.
Winter 11, Year 1
“How is it I’ve been here almost a year, and I didn’t know the hot springs were actually functional?” Ari wondered, stepping into the warm bath. Night had just fallen, and Shane had taken her to the hot spring baths just north of town, at the foothills of the mountains. In an hour or two, she’d be off to see the girls at Emily and Haley’s house, and he’d be off to the Saloon to see which of the town’s men could stand him enough to have a drink with him. He was betting on seeing Gus, and Gus alone. Maybe Sebastian and Sam. Didn’t matter, more booze for him. He was allowed to drink on special occasions, obviously. And getting married tomorrow definitely counted as a special occasion. The best thing about being on a solo sobriety journey was that he made the rules. No one else got to have an opinion. He’d been busy the last three days, running around and planning everything – he felt like he’d hardly seen his bride-to-be. He wanted to make sure he spent some proper time with Ari, where no one would be able to interrupt them. Before the partying began.
“I mean, I knew they were here,” she continued, “but I didn’t know people actually used them.” She’d been far too busy to relax, her fiancé reasoned to himself. She really didn’t slow down, ever. Even with him taking care of the wedding plans, she hadn’t stopped working. He thought she might slow down as the days grew colder and the year drew to a close, but he found she always had something to get done.
But now she was here, and she was all his. “Come here,” Shane beckoned her into the deep. She obeyed, striding over to him in the hip-high, steaming water. He didn’t ever get tired of looking at her, especially when she wore that sexy black swimsuit – the same one she’d worn on the night of their first date. He’d considered it their first date, anyway. Not that she’d been wearing it when they’d had their first kiss, he remembered with a smirk. He pulled her in by the hips, leaning in to kiss her. Just a split second before she kissed him back, he noticed her wince. “What? What’s wrong?” he pulled away from her.
He could see in Ari’s face that she was weighing up the pros and cons of brushing whatever was bothering her under the rug, or going ahead and telling him. He’d been learning how very good she was at brushing her feelings aside to appease him. “Tell me,” he urged, grabbing for her hand in the water. He was learning how not to allow that, even though it was usually the easy way out.
“I just hadn’t realised you’d been drinking already,” she said quietly. She’d obviously smelled it on his breath.
Now it was Shane’s turn to deliberate. His instinct was to get angry, frustrated, ask her why she couldn’t just give him a fucking break. His instinct was to get up and leave. He’d certainly done that plenty of times. The alternative was harder, because it involved shame. Admitting, apologising, hoping for forgiveness. But maybe he didn’t need to catastrophise things – maybe he could just keep it light.
“Come on, babe. It’s my last day as a bachelor. I can have a few, can’t I?” he felt like a bit of a dick, but turning the pressure off himself and onto her made him feel less panicked and under the pump. He wouldn’t make a habit of it. The slight of tongue worked, to his joy and shame. “Well, yeah, of course…” she said unhappily. “It’s… yeah, you’re right, it’s fine. Sorry.” She’d wilted. There was little joy in such a victory for Shane, but he’d take it, to avoid a fight. “Thank you, my fiancé,” he drew in closer, kissing her deeply once again. She didn’t hesitate this time, but she hardly returned it. He chose act like he didn’t notice.
“Not your fiancé for much longer,” Ari told him. He could tell she was trying to brighten up. She had only the tiniest edge detectable in her voice. He can’t have had all that much to drink, because he’d noticed that, hadn’t he? Somewhere deep inside, it hurt. “You’re right,” Shane kissed her neck, willing her to relax, “tomorrow you’ll be my bride, and then after that you’ll be my wife.” He really hoped that sentence instilled in her the hope and comfort it had in him. He wanted nothing more than to wake up next to her for the rest of his life. At the very least, she’d wrapped her legs around him now, and seemed to be thawing out. “It’s gone fast, hasn’t it?” her voice was thin, but she hugged him close. Shane could not get a read on his love like this.
He chuckled, “well, it has only been three days.” A Stardew Valley tradition – all engagements in the Valley were short-lived. Couples always wanted to spring into married life as soon as possible. This had been news to Ari, of course. She’d been a bit stunned when she’d realised just how soon their nuptials would approach. Panicked, even? Or was he reading too much into that? He supposed their relationship had been a bit of a whirlwind: they’d met, become friends (he looked back on that time and wanted to kick himself for the time he’d wasted being rude to her), began dating, and were now to be married in the space of a year. It was crazy, really, when he put it like that. He could understand her shock, when he laid it all out for himself like that.
But she’d said yes.
“Ari?”
“Shane?” She teased.
“You do want to marry me tomorrow, right?”
She smiled at him in the glow of the pool. That soft smile, it made his stomach flip. That smile that made him feel like he was the only guy in the world. “Yes, Shane, I want to marry you. That’s why I’m wearing this necklace,” they each glanced down at delicate chain resting on collarbones, the sapphire gemstone glinting, water droplets running down her skin. Remembering his chain around her neck made him feel better. He couldn’t shake the discomfort, though. This is why he drank.
“I love you,” he pushed through it.
“I love you,” she responded.
Winter 12, Year 1
The day had arrived, and all too soon. Shane stood beside Mayor Lewis under the delicately decorated arch way, woven with flowers and vines in the centre of the town square. Usually, Leah might have been appointed for such a job, but she was out of town, and Elliott wondered who might have intricately woven the Winter poppies and cornflowers though the trellis. They’d done an exceptional job, to his untrained eye. But his attention was back on the groom - Shane cleaned up okay, other than the obvious bags under his eyes. His black suit was well pressed, his dress shoes were obviously new. His dark hair with only the faintest salt-and-pepper greys was the neatest Elliott had ever seen it. To be fair, the older man was usually wearing a cap or beanie, rain or shine. Still, as much as he may have wanted to, Elliott could not begrudge that Shane looked handsome as he stood at the altar. From the mumblings Elliott had heard from Sebastian and Sam, sat in front of him and each nursing their own hangovers, it was a wonder of the world that Shane was standing upright before them all. Last night had been a late one, apparently. But the groom was a seasoned expert when it came to over-indulging in alcohol - a hangover was probably as common as a Wednesday. Last night, Elliott couldn’t bring himself to attend the bachelor’s last hurrah. He had technically been invited – all the men in the town had been. Watching Shane again, and he looked nervous up there, one leg bouncing where he stood, warm air blasting from his mouth in a cloud with every exhale. Now and again, he’d mumble something to Lewis, distracting himself from being the centre of the town’s attention. He couldn’t hear the verbal exchanges, but from his seat in the back row, Elliott felt just as nervous, though he knew he had no right to feel such a way. He felt lightheaded, outside of himself, like he’d been sentenced to death and there was nothing he could do to stop the sentence. He just had to let it play out, now. He wondered what Leah might say to him, if she were here.
Without warning or indication, a hush fell over the crowd, and Shane stood up straighter. From somewhere, a quiet lullaby played. Piano. Lewis asked the town to rise, and they did so obediently, spinning in their places to watch as the bride entered. Elliott followed along numbly, turning in place to watch as Ari made her descent down the aisle. When he gazed upon her, his breath was stolen from his throat for just a second. Her beauty was like a knife, so sharp he didn’t even realise he was bleeding, so lovely was the sight of Ari in her gown, shivering just the slightest bit in her long, flowing sleeves of lace. She smiled at everyone, blushing through the light veil as she realised every eye was on her. Everyone stood in rapt attention and adoration as their favourite farmer descended down the aisle.
“She looks amazing, doesn’t she?” he registered Haley whisper to Penny beside him. She was right. She’d helped Ari to feel her best on her big day, no doubt. And if Haley had had a hand in the purchase and alterations of the gown, she deserved the credit. Emily was involved, too, no doubt. The sisters had worked their magic, and everyone was transfixed. Though to Elliott, Ari could have walked down the aisle in a brown paper bag and he’d have been just as transfixed. It was hard to drag his eyes away from her, but Elliott managed long enough to get a look at the groom. He’d been to a handful of weddings in his life, and it was his favourite moment to turn momentarily from the person walking down the aisle, to glance at the one waiting for them. It was automatic, the way he turned to look at Shane, and he wondered for a flicker in time is this would be different, how it would make him feel. It warmed Elliott just slightly, to see Shane’s eyes glistening, unable to wipe the grin off his face. At least he knew how radiant the light before him shined. At least he had that right. When she reached him and stood before him, she reached out and squeezed his hands. Then, with trembling fingers – cold or nerves - Shane lifted the veil, letting it fall back and flow behind her. Elliott could see his mouth form a “wow.” Good, he should be amazed.
Wedding ceremonies in the Valley were short – which was just as well, because they were all sitting outside in the middle of Winter. Lewis said his part, then allowed the bride and groom to speak their vows for a moment before pronouncing them husband and wife. Being a man of words, Elliott found himself on the edge of his seat in anticipation to hear what promises Ari and Shane might vow to one another. Haley, sensing his nerves, squeezed his knee briefly.
Ari was first. “Shane, ever since we met, I’ve been drawn to you. Something about you made me sure that we could build something lasting. Something real, and something wonderful. You didn’t make it easy, at first, but we did grow a friendship. We learnt to trust one another, and that has beeb really special to me. Even though you try not to show it, you’re pretty easy to see through, and I know that what we have is special to you, too. I’m so grateful that you found the strength to let your guard down and let me in. You’ve shown me what it is to love someone through it all. You’ve shown me love through it all. When I think about all I want to be for you, I promise that I will be kind, patient, understanding, honest and supportive. I’ll love you through it all. Forever.”
They were both crying, by the time she finished. Shane’s cheeks glistened with tears, and he wiped at them with the back of his hands. Ari smiled up at him, caressing his cheeks and using her thumbs to wipe away the fresh tears trailing down his face. Lewis handed Ari a handkerchief, and she dabbed carefully under her eyes. Someone sniffled in the front row – Marnie – and Shane collected himself before it was his turn.
“Ari. You know I’m not the best with words, so it’s hard for me to explain just how much you mean to me, but I’ll do my best. Because that’s the thing about you: you inspire me to actually do better. For so long I couldn’t think of a good reason to try, and then you walked into my life. Your belief in me has given me so much strength. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for helping me find myself again. I can’t promise you that I’ll be perfect – we both know I’m not – or that I won’t make mistakes. But I can promise two things: I will never forget how you’ve saved me. And I will always love you. Forever, Ari.”
The town was in stunned silence, after such a lengthy confession and declaration from Shane. Elliott wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but he was sure he wasn’t alone in thinking that was more words he’d heard Shane say in all the time he’d known him. And he wasn’t here to critique the contents of his speech, he was here to celebrate their love. And one thing was clear – Shane did love her. And another thing, he recognised that Ari had been the one to save him. Elliott hoped that, at least, Shane would spend his days trying to repay her.
“I now pronounce you married! You may kiss!” Lewis declared, throwing up a handful of dried petals. From there, the celebrations began. People surged forward to congratulate the newlyweds, and Elliott was… in better spirits than he expected to be. He was a romantic, at heart, and he’d just have to accept that this was Ari’s dream. The woman he loved felt loved. Was Shane’s love enough to make up for his bad behaviour? She seemed to think so. He needn’t indulge in all his ‘what ifs’ today. There was time enough for that. Perhaps for a day, he could imagine theirs was a perfect love, and that it didn’t hurt him at all. Tomorrow he may wallow. Tomorrow it may come screaming back to him that it wasn’t really enough not to be the one to hold her close, but for a day he could convince himself that it was. Today, she was happy. As he watched her thanking the neighbours, receiving hugs, and turning back to Shane every few seconds to be reassured by his presence, he was almost entirely sure that she was happy. So he would be happy, too.
By the time the evening had rolled around, the festivities had long since tumbled into the Saloon. The whole town was there in the warmth of the fire and discounted booze. Spirits were high, and the room was loud. This was actually the first time Elliott had been to a wedding in Pelican Town, and, despite the bride being the love of his life, the day had been charming. Because everyone else was doing it, he pulled Shane into a hug when it was his turn to wish his good tidings. “Congratulations! She really loves you,” it was as much an admittance to himself as Shane.
“Elliott, man!” Shane was drunk. “Isn’t she lovely? I don’t know how I got so lucky!” Shane had shed his suit jacket, and his bow tie was undone, top button loosened, a flush on his stubbly cheeks.
“I don’t either!” Elliott laughed in lightheaded disbelief. He’d had a few to drink, too. “I guess you’ll just have to try not to botch it!”
Shane laughed, sloshing the beer in his pint glass onto their feet. “Sorry,” he mumbled, before getting back on track, “The thing about Ari,” Shane threw an arm around Elliott’s shoulder, pulling the taller man down so he could mutter into his ear. Beer sloshed onto their feet again, “the thing is I have fucked up. Plenty of times… but she’s too good. She forgives me every time! Can you believe that?” He was laughing.
Of course he could believe that. It sobered him, that reminder. “I can, Shane. I can believe that.”
“You’re a weird guy, Elliott,” Shane guffawed. “But you’re her friend, so, whatever. And she’s an angel. Like, actually sent from Heaven, don’t you think? Anyway I need to find my wife! My wife! My actual wife!” and with that, the very intoxicated groom took his leave, stumbling to the dance floor to wrap his arms around his bride.
Elliott made his way to the bar for a glass of water. He didn’t feel like drinking anymore.
Winter 19, Year 1
“Back already, pumpkin? You forget something?” Marnie was sitting at her kitchen table, sorting through a collection of stamps that he’d never seen before. Shane didn’t question it, just dived straight for the fridge for… a soda. He told himself it would have to do. At least it wasn’t diet. As he hadn’t given her an answer, Marnie pressed on, “Shane, hon, is everything alright?” She frowned in concern. Straight to the negative. Must have been a family trait. He had to get it from somewhere.
Shane sat down at the table, in his old chair. “I’m good… I’m okay.” He was tired, really.
“And how is Miss Ari? Actually, I should say Mrs now, shouldn’t I?”
He grunted at her half-baked attempt at a joke. “Ari’s good.”
“Just visiting me out of the goodness of your heart, then?”
Shane sighed. Why was he here? He’d just slammed the door on his new wife, narrowly missing her as she’d tried to follow him out the door. And why? Because she’d asked him if he was feeling okay. Evidently, the answer was no. And the reason he was feeling so shit was because he was three days sober now. And three days smoke-free. And he felt like shit because of it. His head was pounding, his throat felt dry, his heart kept racing out of nowhere. And it had only been three days! It wasn’t some colossal measure of time, which made him feel even more pathetic for blowing up at her. For being so weak. “Aunt Marnie, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he cut straight to the chase. She looked up from her stamps.
“Now what makes you think anyone else does?” This gentle question cracked through his dark cloud of despair, and they smiled at one another. Then she went on, “tell me what’s on your mind, kiddo.”
He’d only been living on the farm for a week – how could things be so complicated already? And why was he coming to Marnie, famously unmarried Marnie – for advice? Because he had no one else to turn to, really. That was the problem with not making any friends and pushing everyone away. He did trust her, though. She may be the only person in the whole of Pelican Town who would default to being on his side, rather than Ari’s. Not that there were any ‘sides’ – there wasn’t even a fight. He just needed to know there was someone in his corner.
Marnie had turned from her stamps and was giving Shane her full attention now. He preferred it when her eyes weren’t boring into him. But being listened to felt good, and it spurred him on: “do you ever feel like you just can’t get it right? And you’re not sure how you get it so wrong all the time? And when you look back on things, you can see the moment that you fu- messed up, but you don’t know how to stop yourself from making that choice in the heat of the moment?” It was a long shot, and he wasn’t sure if he’d explained himself very well, but it was what had come out. Without giving too much away, this was as honest as he could be. The fact that he had to be cryptic, that there were details he didn’t want his aunt to know, filled Shane with shame.
Marnie was silent for a moment, before she said, “This about your drinking?”
He sighed again. The whole town knew anyway, didn’t they? “Kind of… more like… the things I do when I’m drinking.”
“Well,” his aunt considered this. “When you first came to me, you were a bit of a mess, Shane. No job, college dropout, and the makings of a reclusive alcoholic, if you weren’t carful.”
“That supposed to make me feel better?” It most certainly didn’t, knowing he’d lived up to this disappointing premonition. Was that where she was going with this?
“I’m not finished, Shane… maybe I should have done more to help you. I was a bit out of my depth, with you. And then Jas, as well. Had a lot on my plate, for a few years there! But I knew one thing: this town was where you were meant to be. Your mother and I grew up here, and even though work, and your father took her to the city… this was always her favourite place in the world. This place, the Valley, had to be better than the city. In the city, who knows where you could be right now. So… I stuck it out. Tried to be a good mother figure to you, Yoba knows I felt like I was failing just about every day. But I kept trying, Shane. I didn’t raise you, I know that. You were grown when you came to me. And I know you won’t believe me, but you’ve turned out to be a fine young man.”
That hardly felt true, but he liked the idea of it. He clung to the hope that maybe he wasn’t so awful as he feared. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you have to pull your head in and keep trying, boy!” she chuckled. “Nobody said life was going to be easy. Didn’t you say it yourself, at your wedding? You’re human, you’re going to make mistakes! And Ari loves you. We forgive the ones we love, don’t we?”
This was her way of telling him he was absolved, forgiven for the years of assholery. Shane was touched, and determined. “Do you think I’m capable of change?”
“I think you’re one of the most stubborn young men I’ve ever met. So if you want to stop drinking, or smoking, or make better choices or whatever it may be – then I think you can do it. If anyone can do it, you can.”
“Thank you, Marnie. Really. Thank you.”
“I’m always here for you, hon. Now go apologise to your wife for whatever it is you did! And if I were you, I’d be getting her something really special for the Winter Star.”
Winter 28, Year 1
“Ari!” Elliott smiled, striding into the Saloon on the last night of Winter. It was a blast of warm air in contrast with the cool breeze outside. The snow had been melting this past week, and he’d had to be careful not to slip on his way up the path from the beach. Elliott didn’t bother to remove his scarf or coat just yet – he wasn’t sure whether he’d stay for a drink, or head straight to Leah’s for a warming night cap. He hadn’t seen her since the Feast of the Winter Star, nor had he seen Ari, for that matter. Not that he hadn’t tried, but when he’d come by the farm yesterday, with the farmer’s birthday gift tucked under his arm, no one was around. He had her gift with him now, and had decided to try his luck in the Saloon before he stopped by the farm then retiring to Leah’s. Now, Elliott saw, there would be no need for a detour, as here Ari sat, in a booth with Shane, sharing a meal.
“Elliott, hey. How are you?” She stood up, gave him a quick hug. Shane leant across the table and gave him a firm handshake. They were friendly, he supposed. Well, as friendly as Shane was likely to get. Ari had certainly had a good influence on him. “Please, sit!” Ari told him, and Elliott shook his head. “Oh, I don’t want to interfere with your date night. I’m sorry to bother you both - I only wanted to give you this,” he produced the small brown paper package from his coat pocket, wrapped with twine and with Ari’s name calligraphed on the paper. “Happy birthday, Ari. I apologise for being a day late – you can be quite hard to track down, you know.”
Her smile, bright and open, suddenly dropped. She hadn’t sat back down, and was stood frozen. Shane, with a fry halfway to his lips, also froze, suddenly watching Ari with intent concern. She looked between Elliott’s face and the gift in his hand with an expression he had never expected to detect in this context – horror. Seconds felt like hours, but it can’t have been that long. As suddenly as she’d seized up, she thawed out and tried to recover, but was clearly flustered. “Wow, Elliott, thank you.” With trembling fingers, she took the gift from him. She made no move to untie the ribbon.
Out the corner of his eye, Elliott could see Shane sit up straighter. “Ari?” the man grumbled, dropping the chip onto his plate, “was it your birthday yesterday?” Suddenly, Elliott understood the reason for her pained expression. His stomach lurched. Her husband had forgotten her birthday. Uneasiness gripped him. How was this going to go? His eyes flicked to Shane again, who was positively pale in his seat. More pale than usual. Shane grabbed for Ari’s arm across the table. “Baby, you never told me,” he muttered.
“I did once,” she said numbly. She sat down. “We talked about it on your birthday. It’s fine. Really. It’s a difficult time of year… close to the Winter Star. Close to New Years.” She was embarrassed. They both were. Hell, Elliott was embarrassed. The couple each looked like they were about to cry. Actually, Shane looked like he was about to punch a hole through a wall. But he couldn’t be mad at her, could he? So the next thing Elliott said came out as awkward and clunky as he felt standing there. “Ah, you won’t forget that again, will you Shane?” Shane turned and scowled at him, his big hand still covering Ari’s forearm, but Elliott couldn’t keep the word vomit inside, “I can add your name to the card, if you like?”
“What are you still doing here, man?” Shane said suddenly. Elliott had nothing clever to say to that. In fact, he agreed. What on Earth was he still standing there for? He felt his underarms prickle with sweat as Shane doubled down. “Seriously, what are you trying to do – show me up? Just… fuck off.”
“Shane,” Ari warned lowly. Almost imperceptibly, he squeezed her arm.
“I’ve overstepped – I apologised. Have a good evening, you two. Happy Birthday, Ari,” he did a weird, awkward dip of his head, his cheeks flaming as he turned on his heel and exited the pub.
He mulled it all over in his head as he walked back to the beach through the melting frost. He didn’t feel like heading to Leah’s, now. He’d apologise to her tomorrow. Elliott tried to be logical and level-headed, but his blood pressure rose with every new question that fogged into his mind. How does one forget their wife’s birthday? How much had that hurt Ari? How long was she going to let this go on, not making any noise when something upset her? Pacifying Shane. Can’t make Shane upset, or angry, or feel anything at all on his sobriety journey. No, no one was allowed to do that. More than anything gnawing at his nerves, Elliott worried: had he put her in any sort of danger, by embarrassing the pair of them with his knowledge of her life? He hoped to Yoba that he hadn’t. He’d have liked to call her, to hear her voice and make sure she was okay, but if she was indeed in any kind of peril, that would surely make it worse, wouldn’t it?
Chapter 5: Spring, Year 2
Notes:
This chapter discusses suicidal ideation and domestic violence. Please proceed with caution (or not at all!) if these are sensitive topics for you.
Chapter Text
Spring 5, Year 2
Three days was still his record. Three and a half, if he was being pedantic about it. But counting half days felt more pathetic than the fact that Shane could only stay sober for seventy-two hours. And that was pretty weak in and of itself. Shane was seldom pedantic about anything – he was more of a ‘good enough’ kind of guy. Or, more often, a ‘why try’ kind of guy. So three days it was.
More pathetic still was how he’d found himself so early into a brand new year. The Spring, a time for fresh starts and turning over new leaves. But Shane found himself falling back into old habits. He had called in sick to work, lied to his wife about it, and was sitting in the forest, by the bank of the river, getting wasted in the middle of the day. Not one week into the New Year. The wife part was new, but, regrettably, the rest was something of a pattern for him. Everything felt like it was snowballing lately, and he couldn’t stop life from happening to him, nor could he grab the reigns and take control. He’d never felt able to do that. He couldn’t take it anymore.
On paper, everything should be better. On a literal paper contract, everything was better. He had a home, a permanent roof over his head where the hearth was always piled with wood; the fridge and larder stocked with good, fresh food; a warm and spacious bed to share with the woman who loved him. All this, and he still didn’t feel safe. He still felt like a fraud, a failure.
And that woman: the woman who loved him! He never thought he’d live to even think a sentence so blissful. He was married now, Ari had literally signed a contract saying she would support and love him forever, no matter what he may go through. She was kind, and caring, and beautiful and patient. She was his. All this, and he still didn’t feel he could be his honest self. Because now, he had someone counting on him. Now he didn’t just disappoint himself – he had the capacity to break somebody’s heart. It was too much pressure. Jas had always depended on him, but that was different. She only saw the parts of Shane that he showed her. With Ari, it was like she saw through his soul, no matter how cagey and guarded he could be.
So what the hell was wrong with him? If he wasn’t numbing himself, self-medicating the only way he knew how, he was miserable. Then, because his life had become so much better, and he had no right to be so miserable, he spiralled into self-hatred. There was no willing. He supposed that loathing of himself was always buried down there, an unmarked grave upon his soul. For a moment, he thought he might be able to bury that fury in Ari. That she’d take it all away. But lately, that soil was churning constantly, coiling tendrils like worms – white hot and burning with hate – writhed to the surface. Perhaps it was that he was spending more days sober, alone with his thoughts. Perhaps it was his wife, the only person he’d ever bore his soul to. Likely, it was a cocktail of both. A cocktail. How fitting.
In truth, and in privacy, Shane never thought he’d get this far. That was to say he didn’t actually think he’d live this long. This was not in his plan. He never bothered to have a plan for the future, to have hope or ambition or carve for himself a path forward. Because he didn’t expect to be around. To Shane, it was only a matter of time.
For the past few years, Marnie and little Jas had, at times, been the only force still tethering him to this Earth. When days were bad – like today was bad – it was all he could do to keep afloat for his aunt and goddaughter alone. He’d sit by the river, or out by the sea, and fantasise about the end. How many stones might he need to fill his backpack with to never be seen or heard from again? The thought of stepping to the edge of the river bank, letting everything go and just letting himself fall… it was a comfort. Or walking in the surf, not ever turning back, and being swept out to sea. When panic started to close in on Shane, this was the only thing that had hope of calming him. It made him feel better, knowing the end was near.
But he couldn’t do it, of course.
Just the thought of his own end being so close, an ever-present option, helped to give him a morbid kind of peace. A peace he felt so deeply guilty for finding solace in, that he kept it to himself. Who could ever understand? Jas would be traumatised. Marnie would never forgive him. He couldn’t do that to them. He couldn’t talk to anyone about it.
So Shane got up every day. For better and for worse. He continued. That was all his existence was, really: a continuation of a life that his parents had started and then promptly abandoned in their own ways. And it was his life sentence to see it through.
And then in walked Ari. She was pure, unfiltered sunlight. A salve to his spirit on the darkest night of his soul. She was healing him. She was his remedy.
But with the greatest love of his life, also came an enormous pressure that Shane had never felt before. A pressure to try. To do better. To improve himself and plan for his future. And it was too much. It was a pressure he was crumbling under. Each day, blessed as he felt to wake up beside her, he also felt a wave of exhaustion at the prospect of having to give his all once again. As he sat, slumped against a gnarled oak tree, foul-tasting Joja whisky bottle half emptied in his hand, Shane began to cry. On days like this, it was like he was viewing his life through a telescope, so far down the slippery slope was he. Even if he wanted to crawl out, he didn’t have anything to hold onto to begin.
That thought stopped him mid-sob. He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. That vision of the deep hole he found himself in - he’d had it plenty of times before, of course: the notion that he didn’t have the strength, the resources, or the faculties to pull himself up from the grave he was digging for himself. But now? Well, hadn’t he come to accept that Ari might be the one to pull him out? Hadn’t he realised that he need only let her, his saving grace, his angel, and he might be pulled to safety? He was too small and too stupid to take control of his life – but could that be the beauty in being with someone kinder, more patient and stronger than him? Couldn’t she be strong for him, when he couldn’t go on? Wasn’t that what a life partner for? And what could he possibly give her in response, a gift that wouldn’t insult or undermine her value to him? What possible thing would even the keel of what he owed to her? In return, he’d forgotten her fucking birthday. He was too drunk to know what day it was, and he’d forgotten his wife’s birthday on the first year she’d spent it with him. Fuck forgetting an anniversary, he supposed, he’d just forget her birthday – the day that was supposed to be all about her. The memory made him nauseous. That pompous idiot Elliott, sauntering over to them both in the Saloon, shit-eating grin on his face as he made the smug and public declaration that he’d gotten her a gift. He wasn’t quiet about it, either. It was like he knew Shane had forgotten. Just the thought of that night made the blood in Shane’s face drain from him. She’d been so utterly sad, he could see it, but something else, too. Scared. And what did she do? She made excuses. She tried to assuage him, immediately back-pedalling, to lure him in from the edge. It was humiliating. Worse still, was she afraid of how he’d react. She was scared of him.
She was the only person on Earth who truly knew him, and she was afraid of how he’d react. How sick was he, truly, if his wife thought him a monster?
When they’d walked home that night, in total silence, Shane didn’t even know where to begin. What made it all the worse was it seemed more concerned with Shane’s reaction to his forgetting her birthday, than she did to the fact that he’d neglected her in such a way. So he’d said nothing. It was too late for sorry. It was too late for excuses. And now he was drinking, and contemplating his own demise, and she would find him and forgive him. She would, wouldn’t she?
And in turn, he’d owe a debt to her forever. That wasn’t so bad, was it? But the thought of asking her for help, for this problem he’d created himself, it mortified him. She thought she’d seen him at his lowest, but she hadn’t. If she saw him like this, would she stay? Could she? Was that fair to ask of her – to assume of her? It wasn’t like, even in his best moments, he was the ideal husband. Having that realisation just weeks into their marriage had him swigging from the bottle once again, barking out a wallowing, strangled cry.
As if she’d heard his cries on the morning breeze, Shane faintly heard the sound of his wife’s footfalls crunching along the forest path. His blood always rushed in his ears when he got hammered, but he knew those footfalls. Even in his haze, she was easy to listen out for – she ran everywhere. “No…” he groaned, effectively giving his hiding spot away. Not that he was secreted away very effectively. His vision blackened around the edges.
“Shane?” Even quicker footsteps, then Ari was upon him, smelling of sweet and spicy cinnamon, and fretting in quick, sharp breaths. “What’s going on? Are you alright?” She took him by the shoulders, her pretty, worried face swimming into his vision.
“I am nothing… I can’t keep doing this…” he felt sick, a hot churning in his guts. He was going to throw up.
“Shane, baby, that’s not true… you’re strong, and smart, and I love you. What can I do? How much have you had to drink?”
“I’m useless… I’m dirt… I don’t know why you married me – all I’ll ever do is disappoint you. Just leave me here.” Useless. As useful as dirt. It didn’t occur to Shane that the point he was trying to make with that analogy wouldn’t come across to his wife, a farmer. She worked with dirt every day. She needed dirt, relied on the stuff. Perhaps this explained her attraction to him.
Ari squeezed his shoulders a little harder. “I’m not going anywhere… not ever. Shane? Listen to me. I’m here. I love you, and I’m… here.”
She was. She was here. She was staying. Every time he spiralled out of control, she’d show up. And she’d stay. And still, he wouldn’t learn. He knew this was a pattern he was doomed to repeat. Did she know that? That he may never get better. That he couldn’t do this; wasn’t strong enough to fight his demons.
Help.
He was beyond his own help.
He needed help.
“I think you need to take me to the hospital.”
Spring 15, Year 2
Elliott hadn’t seen Ari in over two weeks. He hadn’t been necessarily counting the days, but it was easy to subconsciously track when the last time they’d spoken had been the last day of the year. It felt so unusual, to go a whole fortnight without speaking to her. It was the longest time he’d gone without seeing her since the pair of them had met. Usually, one of them would chase the other down if they hadn’t seen one another in a few days. Even if the time they didn’t spend was quality, they’d at least see the other in passing, have a brief chat in the town square, or the beach. This time, he’d not seen even a trace of her since the day after her birthday. But he supposed she’d been busy. Likely, she’d not only been performing damage control over the situation he’d inadvertently created with Shane, but she’d also have been as be busy as a bee during the first week of Spring. Spring would be a high-yield, hard work season for the farmer, especially as she knew what she was doing, now. He guessed that his second Spring in the Valley would be twice as busy – and lucrative – as her first. But their lack of contact had not been all on Ari’s part, of course. As for Elliott, though he missed seeing her, he thought it might be best to stay away for a while, to let things cool down. He was most certainly actively avoiding Shane – not that they crossed paths all too often. But when it came to Ari, he just wasn’t purposefully seeking her out. He wondered if she felt his absence like he felt hers.
But rumours had wings in Pelican Town, and even though he’d been dutifully avoiding the Saloon for the past fortnight, he hadn’t remained entirely ignorant to the drama in the farmer’s life. He felt a little guilty – she probably needed a friend. But more than the guilt he felt, he also felt cowardice. He’d heard snippets from different sources over the past few weeks – Haley, Emily, Abigail, namely. He’d been able to piece together the goings-on that had so many of the townsfolk in such a state of unrest. Normally, he didn’t engage, but when it came to the Ari and Shane dramatics, he was eagerly tuned-in.
Emily, when they’d crossed paths in the town square on their respective journeys to and from Pierre’s, had told him that Shane had been admitted to hospital overnight. He’d needed his stomach pumped. Ari had brought him there, and never left his side. Of course, none of this had come from Dr Harvey – patient-doctor confidentiality – so he couldn’t exactly work out how she’d gathered this intelligence. She was good friends with Maru, Havey’s medical assistant, but Maru was far too serious and professional to breach conduct like that. More likely, she’d got the gossip from her sister, Haley. They lived together, after all.
Haley had sought him out on the beach one morning. He thought she was coming down to the south shore to take some photographs, but she’d marched right over to him on the dock, without her camera in sight. She cut right to the chase. She’d said, “now don’t ask me how I know this, because I totally can’t tell you. But Shane and Ari are, like, not really getting along. Apparently his whole drinking thing the other night – when he was taken to the hospital – was because he’d forgotten her birthday. And, I mean, so did the rest of us, but he’s her husband! Like, can you actually believe that? So either he was, like, so guilty that he drank himself half to death, or she made a really big deal about it and they had a huge fight. And, like, I would have done the same thing, if I were her. I hope she made a big deal about it – it IS a big deal! That’s so messed up!” Elliott didn’t get a word in, just sat in silence as she continued, unprompted by the writer. “So anyway, Emily told you how he’s in hospital, right? She’s, like, barely left his side. Have you seen her? They’ve both lost weight, they both look like shit. Only, Shane is definitely taking the no-drinking thing seriously. And you’d think that would be a good thing, right? But he’d just as crabby and mean when he’s sober!” She prattled on, and Elliott was grateful for the insights, no matter how dramatic her retelling of events were. He just needed to try to keep up with the information dump.
Abigail had come to sit with Elliott and Leah yesterday, as they lounged on the bank of the river running through the forest. One of their favourite spots, just a few hundred yards from Leah’s cabin if they ever needed a snack or cup of tea. As usual, Elliott was writing, albeit distractedly, and Leah was sketching when their purple-haired friend happened across them. She plonked herself down between the pair. “Hey guys. Warm day, isn’t it?”
“A lovely day. It’s nice to see you, Abigail. What brings you to the forest?” Elliott abandoned his notes in order to give Abigail his full attention.
“I’m avoiding course work. I just got back from therapy today in Zuzu City. Sometimes when the bus gets back, I like to come to the forest and journal. If I go straight home I’ll probably get the third-degree from Mom or Dad about all the stuff we talked about. But that’s private! So it’s nice to have some place to go for some peace and quiet.”
“How is Doctor Rosen?” Leah asked, not looking up from her sketch of the tree roots protruding from the riverbank. A while ago, Leah had gone through a difficult time with her ex-boyfriend, and had sought out professional help for herself. Elliott had just come to town, and didn’t know her very well just yet. Though she was feeling much better now, and didn’t need therapy any longer, she’d been the one to recommend Dr Rosen to Abigail when she’d needed a mental health professional. As much as Pelican Town was, at times, guilty of some small-town back-water beliefs, they seemed to be quite unprejudiced about young adults taking their mental health seriously. Doctor Harvey wasn’t a specialist, and also felt it would be a conflict of interest to assist any of the townspeople in that capacity. He’d always refer them to a psychologist in the city. He’d gone to medical school with Doctor Rosen, and shared a good working relationship with them. Elliott remembered how Leah had wondered to him, once, if Harvey and Rosen’s relationship extended beyond the perimeters of professionalism. Hard to know, with Harvey. He was a bit of a closed book.
He turned his attention back to his friends, in time enough to hear Abigail say, “She’s good. I’ll say hello to her for you. Or Shane can, I guess.”
“Pardon?” Elliott thought he must have heard her wrong. He needed to stop getting distracted by his own mind.
“Well, you guys are friends with him, aren’t you? Now that he and Ari are together. I mean, married,” he felt this was confirmation that he wasn’t the only one who thought things had moved fast between the pair of them. Abigail continued, “he had the appointment before me. I guess he sees her, too now. Never seen him there before, until now. She might as well move to Pelican Town, eh?” Abigail chuckled at her own joke.
“Maybe I need to book an appointment,” Elliott joked, though his mind was drifting far away. Shane was actually seeing a therapist. That had to be a good thing, didn’t it?
That had been yesterday, and had been on his mind ever since. All of it had been on his mind, of course. He didn’t know exactly how it had all come about – rumours weren’t usually completely truthful, after all – but he felt conflicted regardless. A niggling, nagging, selfish part of him was actually disappointed that Shane was looking towards self-improvement, because that might mean he’d transform himself into someone deserving of Ari’s love. And in so doing, secure that love forever. He scolded himself for it, internally. He should assume she’d be with Shane for the rest of time – they were committed enough to be married. Elliott tried his best to squash those feelings, because he felt sick with guilt about having them in the first place. He loved her. He desperately wished he was in Shane’s position, that he were the one lucky enough to be married to Ari, but he wasn’t. And that was that. End of story, no matter what that stupid flicker of hope might say otherwise. He needed to be less selfish. At the very least, he could hope, wish and pray for her happiness. And Shane getting help, getting sober and going to therapy had to be a step in the right direction.
Today, Elliott had been up the mountain, to Robin’s house, commissioning a new bookcase for his cabin. He was running out of room. Again. Afterward a successful consultation, it seemed so lovely a day, and he was so seldom up in the foothills of the town, that he decided to stay and sit by the river a little while. The crystal water shimmered in the sunlight, little flecks of golden ore carried on the currents from deep within the mountain mines. Elliott leant against a tree trunk by the river bank, eventually sliding down it, half sitting and half lying in the green grass. Spring was a beautiful time of year. The cooler weather was his favourite, but Spring was something special. It inherently reminded him of Ari – perhaps because they’d met this time last year.
He'd stared by reading the little paperback he always carried in the back pocket of his trousers, but it hadn’t grabbed his attention, so distracted by his stunning surroundings was he. He wasn’t sure when he’d dozed off, but when he awoke, the sun was much higher in the sky, his body fully in the shade of his chosen tree, and a silhouetted figure was casting a shadow over his face. Two figures, he realised, as his wits slowly came back to him.
“Elliott, are you okay?” It was Ari. He scrambled to sit up straighter, disorientated. What if he was still dreaming? Had he been drooling? He wiped at his dry face, trying to scrub himself awake.
“Ari, hello… is this real?”
Ari laughed, which didn’t help, because he’d heard that sound in both waking and sleeping.
“I… I fell asleep,” was all he could follow up with.
Shane chuckled beside the farmer, and she smiled down at him. He was awake, he decided, unwilling to consider the possibility of seeing Shane in his dreams. “We can see that,” Ari said patiently, “What are you doing all the way up here?” She moved to sit down, and Shane copied her. Elliott’s eyes had adjusted to the light, and he could see them each better now. They looked eerily similar. Both Ari and Shane had dark bags under their eyes, like they’d not eaten in days. It was so odd, to see Ari gaunt and tired like this. Like her husband. Maybe he’d decided he was awake too quickly. “I came to see Robin… and then it was such a nice day that I thought I’d sit by the river a while… I must have dozed off. I confess, I haven’t been sleeping all that well, lately.”
“You and I both,” Shane grumbled. That much was obvious, Elliott thought. Not that he’d asked.
“Maybe it’s the full moon, or something,” Ari rationalised.
“Maybe it’s the alcohol withdrawal,” Shane countered. She looked surprised, maybe just at the fact that Shane had said it out loud. The sudden honesty, the look on Ari’s face, the awkwardness, it all boiled over, and Elliott barked out a laugh. Then Ari was laughing, then Shane was laughing. Suddenly everything felt normal. It emboldened Elliott to give the apology he owed the pair of them.
“I’m sorry about the other night. The thing with your birthday, Ari. I can see the pair of you are going through some trials, and I didn’t mean to make things worse…”
Shane stared at the ground, while Ari waved the apology off like a pesky fly. “It’s fine, Elliott. We’ve been a bit preoccupied. Remembering dates… well, it hasn’t been a priority. It was just bad timing, is all. Sorry that we were so weird at the Saloon the other week-”
Shane cut in then, “Listen, Elliott. You’re a good friend to Ari. I didn’t mean to react the way I did. I’ve been getting sober… it’s been harder than I ever thought it would. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I was really rude to you. Anyway… thanks.”
“Thanks?” Elliott frowned at the older man.
“For reminding me what’s important,” he looked over at Ari, laying a hand on top of hers on the plush grass. She half-smiled, the expression reaching her mouth, but not her eyes.
“So you’re… okay?” Elliott meant the question for both of them, though he looked directly at Ari when he asked it.
“We’re okay,” Shane replied immediately. “We’re getting there, aren’t we?” he turned to his wife.
“Yes,” came Ari’s small voice, after just a split second of hesitation. Of course, the bags under her sad eyes told a different story.
Elliott hesitated, too. “That’s… good. You both look…” he was grasping for the right word. Was ‘tired’ too rude?
“Like shit?” they offered, in unison. This had the three of them laughing once again. But Ari sobered first, for lack of a better term, and was able to answer her friend with some honesty. At least, as much as she was capable of in front of her fragile spouse. “It’s been stressful, El. We’re… just trying to get by. Aren’t we, Shane?”
“One day at a time,” he agreed, squeezing her hand. “I couldn’t do it without her,” he told Elliott. It clearly wasn’t his intention to gloat, but it was hard not to feel taunted by it.
“She’s a keeper, I’m sure,” Elliott sighed, giving a strained smile to the pair. Shane nodded, none the wiser. Elliott caught Ari’s eye. She wasn’t smiling.
Spring 16, Year 2
“It’s okay, Shane,” Ari soothed, running her fingers through his clammy hair, pushing it out of his eyes. It had been a while since he’d had a haircut. And, given the position they were in, it flopped straight back into his face. Ari lay beneath him, smooth, naked, wet. They’d been in the throes of pleasure, kissing and caressing, and then… things just stopped working. She leant up to kiss him, to catch his lips in hers. He held still as a statue – if only he were hard as one. He didn’t return the kiss, and she tried to soothe him again, “it’s okay, babe…” she softly consoled. His cheeks flamed red.
He jerked away from her touch, rolling off of her, suddenly disgusted. By himself, by sex, by Ari’s constant attempts at tiptoeing around him ever since that day she’d found him on the ledge. He was embarrassed. This had never happened to him before. Except a handful of times. But he’d been drinking, then. Whisky dick was normal. This wasn’t. And fuck her for trying to make him feel like it was.
“Don’t be stupid,” he chided her, “of course it’s not okay!” he rolled out of bed, grabbing for his shorts. Unsure what to do, he began pacing the length of their bedroom, humiliated and agitated. The hardwood floors were cold on his feet, and a chill crept over his naked chest. This felt like a mistake, he realised as he paced. He felt on the edge of something permanent. Like whatever he might do next would change everything. His body ached and longed to be back with Ari in their warm bed. But no one had given his dick that message, apparently.
“Please come back to bed, Shane. It’s okay. It’s nothing to get upset about. It could just be your new meds. It’s normal, it really is,” Ari pleaded. She grabbed for Shane’s abandoned shirt – it was closer than her own pyjamas, flung across the room - and followed him into the kitchen, where he’d stormed off because he couldn’t look at her any longer.
“What don’t you get?!” He turned suddenly, roaring at her. In the blink of an eye, his disdain had flickered into rage. “This is not normal! None of this is! This whole situation – this marriage,” he gesticulated wildly, “isn’t normal.” He was desperate to make her see it, “It makes no sense! It makes no sense that you’re into me, it makes no sense that I’m trying to get sober. This!” he gestured wildly between them, “We make no sense!” he turned to the sink, hands gripping the cold metal for something to ground him.
“Shane…” she sounded so broken, “I’m sorry… we can fix-”
Her apology – one of a thousand apologies he didn’t deserve – severed the last of his nerves. He stood bolt upright in a flash. Before he knew what he was doing, unable to get a hold of himself, he’d picked up a plate and slammed it into the tiles, the ceramic shattering with an almighty explosion, deafening in the dead of night. He grabbed another, lifting his arm to smack it into the sink, anything to drown out her apologies. He grabbed a glass, this time, and turned, throwing it down on the tiles between them, the glass shattering in a blast of crystal. He’d watched her face as he’d done it, had seen her flinch as fear took over in her eyes.
The fight fell from his chest. What had he thought to gain? Did he want to scare her? Yes, he had. He was vile. The disgust for himself rolled back through his body, stronger than ever before, as Ari began to cry.
He wanted to lunge for her, then. Lunge for her and do what? He couldn’t trust himself not to hurt her anymore. He’d been so close just now. Her chest heaved as she cried, clearly trying to stop herself from looking weak before him. But she wasn’t the weak one of the two of them. Shane drowned in his misery. He wanted to take her in his arms and beg for forgiveness. Or to run from their home, slamming the door and leave her and her tears alone in the night. He wanted to kneel before her and grovel at her feet. Or grab her by the shoulders and shake the tears out of her. The broken pottery and glass prevented either of them from moving in their bare feet. The broken shards of their domestic life may as well have been the mountain range separating their Valley from the next. They stood on opposite sides of the dining table, Ari crying, and Shane just watching her. Breathing.
“Do you mean that?” She sniffed in a small voice, “that we make no sense?”
Shane deflated. Already, regret had him in a chokehold. “Well… it’s never made sense, has it? You’re… too good for me.”
She wept, but had no response. Had they really come down to this? And so soon.
Slowly, he backed up, more careful than he’d ever been of his own body. One splinter of glass and he knew his anger would return. He moved around the table, and met his wife on the other side of the room. She didn’t move at all, apart from her trembling on the spot. He wasn’t sure if she’d flinch away from his touch, but she let him take her in his arms, shivering and shaking with cold and hurt.
“Shh,” it was his turn to soothe, well aware he’d been the reason behind her pain. He wasn’t sure he could trust his voice not to crack with the remorse he felt. He picked her up, bridal style. She let him. They were silent. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her back to the bedroom, offloading her onto the mattress with care and scooting in to join her. In the light of their bedside lamp, he could see a small trail of shockingly bright blood down the smooth front of her calf. The glass. He screwed his eyes shut tightly. It was only then that Ari spoke, “but we love each other, don’t we?”
It was Shane’s turn to collapse into his emotions. He opened his eyes, blinking away the feeling. Then, for a moment, his lip trembled. Then, looking down into her shining eyes, at her stained cheeks in the lamplight, Shane lost it. He did love her, more than anything. But was his desperate clinging to that love only hurting her? He knew the answer to that. And she loved him. He would never understand why, but he believed her when she said she did. But was love enough?
“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “Ari, I’m so fucking sorry.” For the plates. For shouting. For his drinking. For his attitude. For scaring her. For never being good enough. For his depression. For not helping enough around the farm. For always pushing her away. For always pulling her back in. For not bettering her life. For worrying her so constantly. He was sorry for all of it.
“It’s okay,” she soothed him again. Gently, she wiped at his face with her cool, shaking fingers. They were back to where this whole tirade had began: Ari comforting Shane in bed, telling him it was okay, holding him close. He sunk lower, and she held him to her chest, his tears staining his own t-shirt that she’d shrugged on earlier. “I do love you, baby. More than life. I just can’t seem to stop fucking things up,” he mumbled to her chest.
“But you keep trying… don’t you?”
“It… this is all so much harder than I ever thought it would be,” he admitted, a fresh wave of tears tracking their way through his stubble. He scrubbed at his face with a calloused hand.
“You’ve been sober for ten days now. That’s huge. I know it’s hard… I know I don’t know how it feels… but I’m proud of you,” she told him quietly, and his breath caught in his throat. He didn’t want to talk any more. Leaning up, Shane pulled Ari’s face towards his, crashing their lips together with frantic force. He needed relief from her patience, her kindness, her goodness. But he still needed her. She hesitated a split second before melting into his tight, clinging embrace. Sucked back into one another, their kisses grew forceful, so much emotion surging between the pair of them, tongues clashing and breaths quickening. He’d never needed her so much as he did now.
“I need you,” Shane mumbled into her lips. Their slowly drying tears mixed and their faces clashed, tongues tangling with passion and desperation.
“You have me,” she purred, hitching a naked leg around his waist and rolling on top of him. The blood, he thought vaguely. He’d find traces of her pain on his legs, on their sheets, in the morning. For now, he pushed it to the back of his mind. Still, their lips crashed against each other with increasing speed and force, the couple rushing against a clock that was counting down to nothing.
Shane couldn’t keep his hands still. No matter where he held her, it didn’t feel close or tight enough. His hands, just minutes ago were occupied destroying their kitchen. Now, they needed to build something good. They ran all over Ari, from her face to her hips, up her shirt to pinch at her nipples as they stiffened at his touch. He yanked the shirt over her head, throwing it across the room. She moaned, back arching, as he fell back down onto her, trapping one of her nipples between his teeth and running his tongue back and forth along the sensitive bud. His hand worked steadily at her other nipple, just a fraction rough, the way he knew she liked it.
He wasn’t sure what had changed, other than the obvious rise, fall and oblivion of emotions between them in the last half hour, but his body was working in his favour, now. Unwilling to take his hands off her for more than a few seconds, they managed to drag Shane’s boxers just below his hips in an awkward rush. His – blissfully – hard dick sprang up, just as it should have.
They lay beside one another, lips attached again while Ari took his cock in her hand, pumping firmly. He moaned into her mouth, bringing his fingers between them for her to coat them in saliva. This, they’d done many times, and well. He slid his hand down between them, quickly parting her folds and rubbing at her clit, making her squirm. Gentler, he reminded himself.
They both seemed to understand the urgency of the moment, and didn’t spend too much time warming up. They needed to connect; him inside of her, before they drifted apart. Shane pulled her easily on top of him, not even breaking their clashing kisses as he grabbed her hips, putting his brute strength to use. “Quick,” Shane insisted, afraid he’d go soft at any minute. Ari rolled her hips down, taking his cock inside of her and exhaling. They didn’t take it slow. They never did. Ari began rocking her hips back and forth, pleasure rolling through them each as they breathed out small moans and mutterings. Before long, Shane was thrusting up to meet her, trying to get deeper, watching enraptured as she closed her eyes, her neck craned back, and just enjoyed his body. At least he could give her his body.
Shane licked at his thumb before taking it to her clit, Ari’s chest jerking at the sudden touch on her most sensitive place. He began to rub messy circles around her clit, her moans turning higher in pitch, her hips skipping beats and losing rhythm as she unravelled. “Shane,” she warned, leaning down now to hold onto his shoulders as she rode him.
“Come for me,” he commanded, quickening his pace and taking control of his thrusts once again. It was always a beautiful sight, watching Ari be thrown over the edge of pleasure, hearing his name so sweet on her lips as she came, crying out for him as she shuddered. It was, without fail, always enough to send him hurtling into his own orgasm, if he hadn’t already reached it. His hips stilled as he jerked deep inside of her, coming undone. As quick as the waves of pleasure crashed over him, the empty feeling returned. He’d always assumed that was normal, the emotional depletion after orgasm. But maybe it was just him.
After, she collapsed down next to him, panting lightly. “That’s one thing we do very well, Shane.”
“Yeah,” he ran his hands through his sweaty hair, “that… us… in bed. That makes sense.” Gently, he thumbed at her pert nipple, leaning across to kiss her shoulder.
They were silent for a minute. Maybe she was falling asleep. But then, and he almost missed it, “Did we rush into this?”
“I…” he felt a sense of impending doom, “I don’t know.”
“You do know,” she challenged softly.
“So do you,” he countered. She said nothing. How many more nights together did they have left? He turned into her, scooping her into a little spoon position, sweaty bodies glued together. Feeling like a captain doomed to go down with his ship, he breathed in the scent of her hair. Strawberries and cinnamon. Scents that would haunt him one day, but for now, he allowed them to lull him to sleep.
Spring 21, Year 2
There was one place in town that Elliott could count on for complete solitude. It wasn’t the far east end of the beach, especially not in Spring or Summer. It wasn’t the bath house by the abandoned train station buried up in the foothills of the mountains – the names and belongings in the lockers indicated that most of the townspeople used the baths, at least occasionally. It wasn’t even his cabin – his friends came door-knocking and popping in all the time, which was always welcome. But sometimes a man just needed to be alone. He’d been reading a lot of Henry David Thoreau’s essays lately, and perhaps this was influencing his need for solitude, meditation, and the call of the wild. Whatever it was, Elliott had recently discovered the perfect place for it.
He'd been waiting to meet Leah at the forest lake the other day, and had found himself wandering while he waited for his friend, a surplus of energy coursing through him, not allowing him to just sit still and wait. To the west, through the trees he could spot the wizard’s tower, strange purple smoke billowing from the chimney as always. No one ever approached the tower. It was funny, Elliott hadn’t grown up in Pelican Town, but he still took stock in the old wives’ tale that the wizard’s lair was bad news, and no one should knock on that ornately-carved door without a written and explicit invitation. In order to avoid happening upon the wizard, the mysterious and intimidating M Rasmodius, Elliott walked further north. The trees grew steadily thicker and darker, and he was sure he’d turned left, west, as the vegetation grew more covered in moss and fungus, ferns sprouting in the cool undergrowth as the sunlight battled with the ceiling of leaves above him. The trees felt bigger, this deep in woods. In turn, he felt smaller.
Then, suddenly, a curious feeling came over him. He was somewhere secret, somewhere magical. It wasn’t a part of the main wood, he could feel that without being explicitly told. Critters rustled in the trees, less afraid of human interaction than usual, and he felt a small chill run through him, reminding himself to keep to the path as he wandered into a clearing, flooded with sunlight. A small, blue pool sparkled in the light, and the grass gave way to lumpy, ancient cobblestone. Long since crumbled marble columns lay and stood around the perimeter of the space, and at the back, he could see an old, cobwebbed shrine to Yoba. This used to be a temple! He’d never heard anyone talk about it before. He’d never actually looked into how ancient the land he lived on was. How curious. It was the strangest place, both fascinating and fear-inducing. Solitary but also with a sense that someone was watching. Inspiring and magical both. He needed to make sure he could find his way out, and he needed to go see Leah, but he vowed he’d be back to this secret spot, and soon. Next time, with his notebook. One thing was certain, he was inspired.
As Spring neared its end and the weather grew steadily warmer, Elliott set out to spend the day in his private wood. He took his writing tools, a packed lunch, and his fishing knife – just in case. While it hadn’t felt touched by human hands in years, there was definitely another presence there. Something otherworldly. But he still felt compelled to revisit the secret woods. If he’d paid better attention, he might have noticed that the undergrowth had been freshly cut away on his first visit. But he wasn’t a tracker or a hunter. At best, he was a fisherman, with an untrained eye for tracing something through the woods.
On his way – and, granted, it was really very early in the morning – he didn’t cross paths with another soul. It was like the day was preparing him for a long stretch of solitude. He pushed through the ferns, avoiding slipping on the moss below his feet, before finally stumbling into the lovely, sunny clearing of the woods.
Then, Elliott yelped.
The last thing he’d expected to meet at his private destination, was another of the townsfolk. He was sure he was the only person who knew about this place. It had felt so very lonely. And who had he happened across but, of course, Ari. She was poised to strike, dagger in hand, immediately dropping it when she took in who had actually come stumbling into the clearing.
“Elliott? Sorry - You scared the hell out of me!” she was much more prepared for trouble than he was – his fishing knife was sheathed and tucked safely away in his bag.
He finally got a good look at her, now, moving closer to the farmer in the clearing, now he was sure he wouldn’t be attacked. Gradually, his heart rate came back down to normal. She was barefoot, her boots abandoned just next to the crystal pool. She was in shorts and a grubby t-shirt – she’d probably spent the early morning in her field, harvesting the last of the Spring produce. Dirt tracks down her cheeks. “Ari, forgive me, I didn’t mean to scare you – I wasn’t expecting to see anyone here.”
“Neither was I,” she laughed. She wiped had her cheeks with the heals of her palms, poorly covering up the fact that she’d obviously been crying.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Elliott gestured to the grass she’d been sitting on beside the pool. “I can come back tomorrow, if you’d rather be alone…”
“Not at all,” she sat back down, and Elliott sat beside her, untying his shoes and removing them, rolling up his trousers to dip his feet into the clear, cool water.
“What’s wrong?” He knew something was bothering her, there was no point pretending he didn’t. Maybe he could help. Maybe she just needed someone to listen to her.
“How did you-”
“Ari. I know you.”
She looked up from her reflection on the water’s rippling surface. Her dark eyes staring into his green ones. Her eyes welled up, her face crumpled like a crushed can of Joja Cola. She began to sob.
Alarmed, Elliott pat her back gently, still aware that he shouldn’t get too close. She was a married woman, after all. But she was his friend first, he chided himself, and pulled her into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry,” Ari sniffled, trying to gather in her emotions before collapsing into them all over again. Elliott let her cry, it seemed like she needed it. He rubbed her back, told her it was okay in soothing tones, all the while his heart broke in two. “I’m sorry,” she tried again, “it’s just so hard to even know where to begin.” She pulled back, trying to collect herself together.
“I find the beginning is a good place, usually,” he told her softly, and she smiled at him.
“It’s just… have you ever… I don’t know, Elliott. I feel like an idiot. I don’t think you’ll understand, you’re… I just feel like a fool…”
“Ari, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I just feel like I’ve ruined everything!”
“Why?” he stayed calm while she became more agitated.
“I feel like… I always thought the right thing to do was to follow my heart. So I did. I always have. And it’s never led me astray. I mean, it led me here, to Pelican Town, and that’s always seemed like the right thing. But now… none of this feels right?”
“Being married to Shane?” He decided it best not to pretend he was ignorant of her plight.
She was quiet for a moment. “Isn’t that awful? I’m a terrible person. But… what if…”
“What if marrying Shane was the wrong decision?” He filled in the blanks for her. A fresh wave of tears from Ari.
“I feel horrible about it! I thought it was right! I thought we made each other better. I thought… I thought I could…”
“Change him?”
“Help him,” she corrected hopelessly.
Elliott considered this for a moment. For such a long moment, in fact, that Ari had to beg him to say something, “you think I’m awful, don’t you? I am.”
“Ari. You’re not a bad person. You were in love. You’re the most charitable person on earth, and it sounds like you got your wires crossed because you fell in love with someone who desperately needed help. But he needs more help than you can provide, doesn’t he?”
She nodded weakly. “But I have to stay with him. I… I should. While he gets better. I can’t leave him like this.”
“What if he doesn’t? Get better, that is. Do you have to put up with that forever?”
“I made promises,” she said dully. Elliott remembered; he’d been there.
“So did he,” Elliott reminded her solemnly. He watched her as she took it in, breathing down at the water.
“I’ve really fucked up, Elliott,” her voice cracked on his name. How he longed to wrap her up in his arms again and never let another thing harm her.
“It will be okay.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’ll be here for you.” Always. He knew it to be true. “Are you… separated?” He dared to ask.
Ari shook her head. “We keep having these awful fights. Then we make up. He tells me he needs me. I feel like I love him. So I start to feel comfortable and… safe, again. But then I say or do something wrong, and we fight again. It’s just this vicious cycle… I think we both know it’s not working… he did say that.”
“He said it’s not working?” The idea of Shane being the one to pull the plug on the relationship that she’d done nothing but agonise over to make work made him flash with rage. He took a deep breath.
“Kind of” Ari admitted, “but… I feel like he knows he needs me. So…”
“So you stay,” Elliott finished for her. She didn’t seem to have a rebuttal, so he continued, “that’s manipulation, Ari. That’s not fair to you. He doesn’t get to use you, your emotional labour, and leave you a miserable shell of yourself.”
“Stop, Elliott,” a pained look was on her face. “It’s not that simple… can you imagine how people would look at me, how they’d talk about me? Everyone would think…” she sniffled, “they’d think I never loved him. They’d think I just wanted to fix him, then it was all too hard and I dipped out! No one’s going to understand!”
“Ari,” he said softly. “I understand.”
“So what do I do?” She looked completely miserable. Elliott could not, in good conscience, give her the advice she so desperately sought. If he told her to stay with Shane, that things would get better, he’d be lying. He’d be throwing her to the wolves. If he told her to leave Shane, he knew he couldn’t forgive himself. It would feel inherently selfish for the rest of his life. Of course he wanted her to be single. Which was exactly why he couldn’t advise it.
“I think you need to spend some time asking yourself a few questions, and really reflecting on what they mean to you, how important your answers are?”
She seemed to perk up at even the suggestion of a direction to go in. “What questions?”
“What does love mean to you? Are you showing that love to one another? Are you happy? Do you think you can ever be happy if you stay?”
“Those are… heavy questions. What if I can’t answer them?”
It occurred to Elliott then that in her relationship with Shane, she was always expected to find the answers. She was always the leader; always the one having to come up with solutions. She was sitting before him, begging to have her choices taken away. She just wanted to be led. He couldn’t do that for her, though. That would be a whole different kind of manipulation, and he refused to take part in that. He couldn’t trust that he wouldn’t lead her in the direction of his own best interests.
“I believe in you, Ari,” he told her, “remember what you told me – you’ve always trusted your heart. I really believe it will lead you where you need to be.”
“You’re too kind,” she lamented, “I don’t deserve a friend like you.”
“Too bad, you’re stuck with me,” he vowed.
Chapter 6: Summer, Year 2
Chapter Text
Summer 12, Year 2
When Elliott thought back to that moment, his heart dropped to his stomach; his stomach lurched in place; his body grew cold all over. The sound haunted his dreams for days. That loud, blaring siren that made his blood run cold. He never tried to think about that day, but it kept screaming back to him in sharp bursts whenever his brain finally stopped running on high-alert. Which, of course, served to have him on even more high-alert. The memory of that siren kept him awake at night.
It had been a totally normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened in days. In fact, it had been a slow and pleasant start to Summer. Elliott had been doing some writing in the morning, quite successfully, by all accounts, then had been on his way to Pierre’s for his usual weekly grocery top-up. Living near the beach and being friends with the town’s resident farmer usually meant that fresh seafood, milk, eggs and seasonal produce were both free and in abundance, and for that he was perpetually grateful. But each week, there’d be a few essentials he’d need to procure from Pierre’s. This week, his short list consisted of bread, olive oil, vinegar and tea. He was on his way up from the beach when the peace of the early afternoon was slashed through with noise.
It was a siren like he’d never heard before. Deep, ominous, and earth-shatteringly loud. How a sound so deep and reverberating managed to sound so piercing, he’d never know. He’d been near Lewis’ home when it had first started sounding, and the Mayor burst from his front door just seconds after the noise began. He was sure that, had he already done his food shopping, he’d have dropped his bags to the ground. By now, Elliott had clamped his hands over his ears. “Mayor Lewis! What is that?!” there could be no mistaking the context of what Elliott was asking him about. A fire? A train accident? An air raid? Bizarrely, he looked to the skies.
Lewis gestured for Elliott to follow him as they hurried along the path to the town centre. The Mayor answered him as they rushed over the cobblestones. Whatever it was, it had the older man worried, which, in turn, had Elliott feeling more than a little anxious himself. “It’s the siren that tells us when there’s been an accident in the mines,” Lewis explained. Elliott felt his skin grow cold, even in the direct heat of the sun. “It’s not worked for years… the mines have been abandoned, and all… but with things up and running – the mine carts work now, you know… perhaps the…” he was distracted, and Elliott saw that they were hurrying towards the Doctor’s Surgery. He felt unwell. There was only one person he knew who regularly risked life and limb by going into the mines. “We need to get to Harvey – we’ll need the gurney… I don’t know what sort of first-aid equipment they have up at the Adventurer’s Guild…” the Mayor was thinking out loud, and frightening Elliott considerably.
And as they neared the surgery, Elliott spotted a sight that made the colour drain from his face. Linus and Marlon were staggering down the path from the mountains, holding in their arms an unconscious Ari, her white blouse blossoming with crimson. The older men strained with the effort, taking turns at holding the bulk of her weight – she was clearly out cold.
“Ari!” Elliott bolted over, bounding up the cobblestone stairs one at a time.
“Found her in the mines,” Linus told him, handing the farmer over to Elliott, relieved to not be burdened by her any longer. His hands were covered in blood. “She’d been attacked by… something,” Marlon said, and the old transient shivered. “Warned her plenty of times, I did,” he had to add. Elliott didn’t need any convincing that the mines were home to dark forces, both natural and super. “Thank you for getting to her so quickly,” Lewis told them when he’d caught up to Elliott, who had begun cautiously taking her down the stairs.
“Get Havey. Quickly,” Elliott demanded of Lewis, who hurried ahead of him to the surgery while Elliott carried Ari, as quickly and carefully as he could to the – thankfully – nearby Doctor’s Office. The entourage followed him closely. If he’d been paying attention to anything but the farmer in his arms, he might have seen a few of the townsfolk that had poked their heads out of their houses, staring from a distance at the scene before them.
All manners and refinement forgotten, Elliott kicked through the swinging doors of the surgery once they were inside, heading straight into the first examination room he happened upon. “Harvey!” he roared when the doctor hadn’t come immediately. It was enough to get his friend and physician into the room in record speed, pulling on his white surgical gloves. He lay Ari down on an examination bench.
“I need space,” Harvey told them, focussed.
Linus, Marlon and Lewis cleared the room, but Elliott stood against the wall. He’d give the doctor space, but he wasn’t going to leave her.
“She’s breathing.” A relief. He’d suspected she was shallowly breathing, though in his frenzy he couldn’t stop to check, but it was relieving to have it confirmed.
Harvey picked up a pair of surgical scissors, cutting easily through her blood-soaked blouse to find the source of the bleeding. Elliott’s stomach turned when he saw the three large slashes that had ripped through her abdomen. Claw marks. Each deep gauge was pulsing, vomiting blood. The torn skin was jagged around the edges, small flecks of her flesh completely separate from her body.
“None of her internal organs are hit,” Harvey mumbled. “Gonna stitch her up.” Elliott had had check-ups with Harvey, of course. But he’d never seen him work with this much focus and determination.
Maru, his nursing assistant, had appeared at some point, with prepped surgical needle and thread. When the needle first punctured the skin of the farmer, her eyes suddenly shot open, then her face screwed up in pain. Elliott felt the blood rushing in his ears. He was relieved to see her awake; agonised to know she was in so much pain.
Elliott’s feet carried him to her side. “Ari, here, look at me,” he stroked her cheek, accidentally wiping her own blood across her face with the action. He looked at his hands, then. They were covered with the stuff, and shaking. “They’re stitching you up,” he told her. She seemed to want to lunge forward, to look down at her wounds. Gently, he took her shoulders, then suddenly withdrew his right hand when it connected with shredded skin at the back of her right shoulder. She yelped. His hand came away, slippery with fresh blood. “I’m sorry. Sorry. Listen, you don’t need to see. They’re going to fix you. Okay? You’re going to be just fine. Just look at me. Okay?”
Feebly, she nodded. She kept her eye contact with him.
Elliott stood with her as Harvey and Maru stitched her up. Every pin prick into her skin, every tug of the thread, every stinging wipe of alcohol solution across her broken flesh. She winced, she whimpered, but still she looked at him. He talked to her softly, distracting her with his words. He wiped the beads of sweat rapidly springing from her forehead. She was scared. She’d been hurt in the mines before, but never this bad. Finally, after what felt like hours, they were done. Of course, it hadn’t been hours. She was hooked up to an IV for a blood transfusion when the worst of the bleeding had been stitched. At some point, the sirens had stopped pulsating through the town, but he couldn’t remember when. Her shoulder had been thoroughly cleaned and wrapped in gauze, the flesh too scrambled to allow for stitches. The slashes across her belly were now held together with countless stitches. A difficult spot, as the trunk of one’s body moved and stretched all day long. She’d be on bed rest for a long time. The knock to her head had been ruled a concussion. She’d need to spend the night in the hospital.
“She should rest now, Elliott,” Harvey told him, cupping his shoulder gently after he’d shed the bloodied pair of surgical gloves. Maru was hooking Ari up to another IV with painkiller and saline. It wasn’t the sort of work they were used to, being a small-town general practitioner and medical research assistant. Elliott was eternally grateful for the pair of them. So, he’d listen to Harvey now. “She’s exhausted. Dehydrated. And in a lot of pain. She’s going to sleep for a while now. You should go clean yourself up. That,” he gestured up and down to Elliott, spattered with Ari’s blood and hands dark with the substance, “is extremely unsanitary. You can come by in the morning. I need to call her husband,” that felt like a much-needed warning. A reminder. He understood. Harvey was endlessly sensible and practical. If he was suggesting something, it was probably the right thing to do. Best to go home and wash off the blood. He did what his friend suggested. It was growing dark by the time he started dragging himself home.
Shane was on his way from the JojaMart, already jogging. He must have received the call at work. He looked startled when he came across the writer after crossing the bridge. A little dazed from the trauma of the afternoon, Elliott wondered vaguely why Shane hadn’t left the JojaMart when he’d heard the alarm. Then again, Joja Corporation had a rather evil reputation – they weren’t letting staff members shirk their paid hours for anything.
“Elliott…” Shane stared down at the other man’s bloodied hands, and seemed to put two and two together. “Ari. How bad is it?”
“It was… She’s okay, now. You need to go see her. She’s at Harvey’s. She needs… you.”
“Is that… that’s her…” Shane couldn’t drag his eyes from Elliott’s rusty, stained hands. His already pallid face grew whiter still.
“There was a lot of blood. Go!”
Shane didn’t need any more explanation. Or perhaps he did, but he wasn’t going to wait around for it. He took off running. And as suddenly as Shane had taken off, Elliott did, too. Suddenly, that sounded like the best idea in the world. He sprinted in the opposite direction, down to the beach, past his cabin, and straight into the wild surf. His clothes became drenched and heavy as he scrubbed at his hands. He wasn’t sure when he’d began to cry, but sobs tore at his chest as he sank into the waves, keeping his head above water but only just.
As night fell, Elliott dragged his wet, shaking body back to his cabin, laying on his floor until he was completely dry and the sun was crowning on the horizon.
Summer 13, Year 2
After a fitful night of sleep, Elliott woke before the sun had graced the hills of the Valley. From then, it was a waiting game to hold out for an appropriate amount of time before he could go and visit Ari. Something told him that he should leave her with Shane for the better half of the day. It was intuition as much as it was Harvey’s warnings the day before. There would be a certain sting in the fact that he’d been a first responder while Shane obliviously packed shelves at the JojaMart, ignoring the sirens blaring through the town. That was the narrative he was telling himself, at least, though it may have been neither generous nor truthful. He decided it would be late afternoon before he’d visit Ari, though he was desperate to know how she was fairing.
So, he needed to keep busy. He tried to throw himself into his writing – but he was too distracted. He swam jetty to jetty four times over – it barely took him an hour, but it was an effective use of his energy. He skipped rocks – but something about it made him anxious. He supposed he might as well use his efforts for good and make something to help her feel better. A care package of sorts, he supposed. That would be a decent use of his time, as well as some small offering to give her for her discomforts. Her pain, actually. All throughout the morning, he couldn’t get the sound of those sirens out of his ears; nor could he get her eyes, glassy and absent, out of his mind.
He candied some walnuts – one of Ari’s favourite treats. He had some loose leaf stardrop tea he’d been saving for a special occasion, so this seemed an appropriate time. After rifling through his many field notes, he was able to find the recipe for the pain relief remedy Harvey had given him long ago. After a quick visit to Emily’s for supplies, he stirred up aloe vera, cactus jelly, peppermint leaf and eucalyptus oil for the perfect sore-muscle rub. It wouldn’t work on her lacerations – in fact, may cause more discomfort in those areas - but Elliott was sure Ari would be experiencing plenty of muscle pain, too. He’d used it to rub on his temples, on nights he couldn’t sleep. She would find that useful. He chose a fuzzy, comfy pair of socks he’d recently finished knitting. When he wasn’t out socialising at night, he’d taken to knitting – Leah had taught him the basics. They’d probably be a little big for her, but that might make them cozier. He considered flowers. Then thought better of it. Then considered them again. Where he came from, flowers were a very standard ‘get well soon’ gesture. But given the town’s tradition of young lovers using bouquets of flowers to express their romantic interests, it may not be received very well. Especially not by Ari’s husband. What he did do, was choose a book from his shelf that he thought she’d like, and gently slipped a dried, pressed daisy into its front cover. A bookmark. But also a message. He’d all but put his entire heart on the line from her, he was only holding onto a mere shred of his own dignity, these days. What was one small flower in the scheme of all these things, a miniature spark with the potential for a wildfire of humiliation in the face of his colossal feelings?
By then, it was finally late enough in the day that he might be allowed into the hospital. It was a few minutes after one, and officially the afternoon. Not that Harvey would keep very strict visiting hours – the place wasn’t a hub of activity, thank Yoba. It was more about the social boundaries of the situation. He didn’t want people to talk – and they never needed much ammunition to do that. With his small gift basket in hand, he headed up the path to the hospital, not coming across a single other townsperson on his journey. Odd, since he was coming up through the oft-bustling town square. If it wasn’t such a sunny afternoon, he might find it a bit eerie. Most people were probably taking their lunch, now.
When he entered the hospital, Maru was at the desk, filing and sorting and answering the occasional phone call. Other than that, the waiting room was vacant – this, however, was largely normal.
“Hi Elliott – are you here to see Ari?” A good assumption – it was rare that he ever needed to book an appointment.
“Good afternoon, Maru. That’s right, I was wondering if Ari might be feeling up to having a visitor – for a short while only, of course.”
“You’ll have to head to the farm then, I’m afraid. We discharged her at midday. Shane took her home.”
“Well, that’s… good, isn’t it? She’s well enough to be going home.”
“If you see her, tell her Doctor Harvey was serious about her resting in bed. For at least a week. She really shouldn’t be getting up at all. Nothing strenuous. Rest. Serious. And one of us will be stopping in to change her dressings each day – and we’ll ask Shane if she’s actually been resting,” she told him severely. Elliott vowed he’d pass on the message, then turned on his heel and headed out the door. He felt uneasy. There was a lot to consider. He trusted Harvey’s professionalism, of course. But was home the best place for her? Was Shane going to do an adequate job of taking care of her? The man had proven time and time again that he could hardly take care of himself.
It was a short walk west of town to Honey Bell Farm from the doctor’s office, maybe twenty minutes if one were to take their time. As Elliott’s feet carried him in the partially clouded afternoon sun, his feet carried him with rapidly increasing velocity. He felt silly, holding this frivolous little basket, as if it would do a thing to help. It was like he couldn’t believe that she was okay until he saw her with his own eyes, even though just yesterday Harvey had made sure she was stabilised. By the time he bounded up the farmhouse’s varnished porch steps, his knocks on their big oak door were something frantic. His pulse had quickened – and it had not been a strenuous walk. He knew who it would be to answer the door, but still he waited with bated breath.
He was about to knock again when the latch clicked and the door swung open to reveal Shane. Even blind, he could have guessed it would be Shane, so strong was the smell of beer rolling off of him. He felt a pang of sadness for the other man, then – addiction’s grip was ferocious and unrelenting. Shane looked neither surprised nor happy to see the writer. “Elliott. Hi. Here to see Ari?” he sounded almost bored as he stepped aside to allow the younger man in. He stepped through the doorway, into their open living space.
“How is she?” Elliott asked. From the kitchen, he couldn’t see into their bedroom, where she no doubt lay, resting. He hoped she was resting. She was stubborn, but also a good listener.
“Not good. She’ll say she’s fine. But it’s… not good. She could have died down there. If it weren’t for Linus… Marlon… and for you. She would have… there was so much blood, wasn’t there?” Shane couldn’t, or wouldn’t, finish his thought. He hadn’t been there for the blood bath, had only seen the aftermath of it all. Elliott couldn’t help but notice the six-pack’s worth of empty beer cans on the dining room table. Of course, he didn’t say anything. “Anyway,” Shane gathered himself together quickly, “come see her.” With that, he led Elliott into the bedroom.
As much as he had tried not to think about it, Elliott had found his mind wandering to what Ari’s bedroom might look like a few times. Of course, never in this context: her husband leading him to her sick bed. An entirely unsexy scenario – for which he was more than grateful. Her room – their room, he reminded himself – was so utterly Ari. Beautifully carved and stained solid wood furniture. Soft, light fabrics on the curtains, the fluffy bedspread, the loveseat in the corner. An intricately woven rug of patterns he could stare at for hours. It felt altogether too intimate to be seeing her place of rest. And at the same time, his eyes drank in evert detail they could.
But he only had milliseconds to take that all in, for there, propped up on the bed, was Ari. It was warm in the room, and she lay atop the bedspread. She was dark under the eyes, a large but shallow graze undressed on her forehead. Her skin, which had just begun to melt into the delicious copper glow of the Summer, had never looked paler than it did now. She lay in a crop top with tiny straps, her left shoulder bandaged heavily. Hints of white cotton gauze peeked from her midriff. In her pyjama shorts, he could see the multitude of minor scrapes, cuts and bruises peppering her legs. He ached, but it was so good to see her awake, lucid.
“Elliott,” she croaked, smiling.
He could feel himself blushing, and only hoped Shane wouldn’t notice. He was a bit past noticing much, though. He remembered the basket in his hands. “I brought you… this,” he moved toward her, and lay it down beside her on the bed, then moved back to sit on the loveseat in the corner. He was being watched, he knew that. “Just some things to help you feel better. Candied walnuts,” he randomly thought to say, and her smile grew bigger. His blush grew pinker.
“Nice of you,” Shane said gruffly, moving the basket to the nightstand so that he could sit down beside Ari on the bed. She had been slowly reaching for the gift, but she’d look through it later, Elliott supposed. There felt a delicate imbalance in the room, and he dared not tip the scales any more. As Shane sat down, Ari winced, the movement on the mattress clearly causing her pain.
What happened next, Elliott would remember every detail of forever. It played out like it was in slow-motion. Like so many things surrounding Ari, it would be burned into his brain for as long as he lived. On the bookshelves of memory in the library of his mind, the numbered Volumes of Ari grew by the day. First, Shane leant down to kiss Ari’s forehead – the side without the graze. Dazed and distracted, Ari mumbled one word: “beer.”
That one word, it was like she threw the tiniest of sparks, and Shane was highly flammable. Then Shane was up. She winced again as the mattress shifted. It was like Elliott was invisible, a fly on the wall as the other man absolutely lost his cool. He’d been entirely forgotten as he observed the tirade that grew with rapid ferocity. “Well I’m fucking sorry, Ari! You nearly fucking died yesterday – and I wasn’t there – and fucking forgive me if that stressed me out a little bit!”
“I’m sorry- it’s just, your meds-”
“No, don’t do that! Don’t tell me you’re sorry and back track and make me the drunk asshole because you’re little miss perfect who’s never done a thing wrong in her life ever! I’m so damn tired of that bullshit!” he was panting, standing over her, cheeks flushed with anger.
Elliott felt frozen. He needed to do something. What? Attack Shane? He wasn’t going to win that fight, and it would probably put Ari in more danger. But then what else? Then, in a small voice, Ari stood up to him. Brave, brave Ari. “I’m not the one making you into a drunk asshole,” she told her husband, voice croaky. Even this was an effort for her.
Shane yelled something unintelligible. At the foot of the bed, he kicked one of its posts, shaking the frame and causing Ari to yelp in pain. This moved Elliott to action, “Shane!” he yelled, “you’re hurting her.” He didn’t have Shane’s stocky build, aggression, or willingness to fight, but at least he was half a head taller than the other man.
Shane took a step away from Ari, but cautioned Elliott, “you stay out of this. She doesn’t need you filling her head with shit.” He turned back to Ari, “what don’t you get? I was scared to death! I could have lost you – does that not warrant a drink? I could have lost you, does that matter at all to you? Do my feelings not matter after all this time? After all these changes I’ve made for you!”
“Don’t be cruel,” Ari told him through gritted teeth. She was angry, too, now, though in a much more subdued and muted way. He wondered, if she’d felt well enough, would she be shouting back? It didn’t seem in her nature.
“Do you like seeing me in pain? Do I disgust you that much?” Shane had tears running down his face. Maybe they’d fought over these things before, because it wasn’t making any sense to Elliott. After the conversation he’d had with Ari in the secret woods, though, he knew things weren’t good. Was this what living with Shane was like all the time? This must have been agony for her. Fresh suffering every day.
“Shane,” Ari warned.
“You’re an unfeeling bitch,” the drunk man seethed. And that did it. He could no longer remain a wallflower and witness to this cruelty. Elliott lunged for him, grabbing Shane by the back of his shirt with the intention of getting him out the room, away from Ari, where he couldn’t hurt her anymore. What the farmer said next stopped them both in their tracks: “I want a divorce!” She exploded with all the force she had left in her. Then she sunk back onto the cushions, her face pained and distracted.
Shane and Elliott both stopped their struggle, each turning to stare at her. The fight left Shane after he gave an almighty shove out of Elliott’s hands, and he looked his wife in the eyes and said with calm cruelty, “not even a year, and you want a divorce. You’re more like me than you think, you know. Because now we’re both fucking failures, you miserable bitch.” He stormed from the room before Elliott had the chance to take a swing at him. The front door slammed, shaking the very foundations of the house, and Elliott rushed to the farmer’s side, careful not to disturb the mattress too much as he perched on the side of the bed.
Ari and Elliott looked at one another for a long moment. She looked so crumpled and small there on the bedding, hurt and heartbroken as she was. He longed to scoop her up and carry her away from it all. Most of all, from Shane. Elliott didn’t like to waste his energy thinking up cruelties, but there were a few swimming into his mind at the moment. Things only Shane deserved. And if he hadn’t stormed out, Elliott wasn’t convinced he could hold back from delivering a sound right hook to the man’s jaw. But that wasn’t what mattered, right now.
“Ari, you can’t stay here tonight. Let me take you somewhere safe.”
“He won’t hurt me,” she said dully, energy drained from her being after the fight. She didn’t have much energy to begin with, after her ordeal. It made his anger boil up again, just the thought that Shane couldn’t let things be about her, just once. “Ari. That was scary. He’s dangerous.” He was loathe to argue with her after all of that, but he was convinced only he was taking her safety seriously.
“He’s never hurt me before. He probably wont even come home tonight… I really just want to stay here.”
It worried Elliott. He didn’t want to risk it. He’d seen Shane grumpy. He’d seen Shane mad. But never that ferocious blaze of flammable anger he was tonight. It was entirely uncontrolled. She couldn’t stay here, he knew that. He also knew how very headstrong she could be. Then, to his horror, he noticed the small bloom of blood on the front of her pyjama top.
“Ari,” and he longed to call her his sweetheart, his darling, his love, “I think you’ve popped your stitches. May I?” She nodded feebly, laying still as he pulled her top up, leaving her breasts covered. Sure enough, one of her bandages was soaked through with blood. She’d need to go back to see Harvey. But that didn’t guarantee she’d stay there. With the back of his hand, he felt her forehead, then her cheek, eyes widening in what he hoped was convincing horror. She was a little warm, a slight bit clammy. “Ari! You’re burning up. I think you have a fever coming on. Are you cold? Hot?”
She was confused, “a little warm, if anything… but it’s warm in here, right?”
“I’m calling Doctor Harvey right now. They should never had let you out of hospital so soon. And with a concussion, too!” He found the landline in the lounge room, dialling the number for the clinic. Then, when that rang out, he called Harvey personally. If a little white lie about a fever would keep her safe, then he was entirely willing to take that risk. She did need medical attention, he reasoned with himself when his conscience came knocking. And more than that, she needed to be away from Shane, who could come back at any time.
Summer 18, Year 2
“Shane?” Doctor Rosen smiled at him from her doorway, “come in.”
He sat in his usual place on her supple leather couch. He liked the cushions she had on her couch; he’d told her once. They were from the Calico Desert Market. He’d have liked to get some for Ari. That wasn’t going to happen, now, he realised with bitter finality. His psychiatrist sat in her blue armchair, notebook in hand, as usual. “Welcome, Shane. Tell me about your week.”
He exhaled. Since he’d seen her last week, his wife had nearly died in a mining accident; she’d told him she wanted a divorce; his job at the JojaMart had ended as the corporation’s business in town had dried up with the miraculous restoration of the community centre; and he’d fallen off the wagon. The cliché of, ‘when it rains, it pours,’ came to mind. “It’s been… a tough week. A bad week, actually,” he’d been getting better at talking about his feelings, but it was never easy. “A fucking shitty week, really.” It helped knowing Doctor Rosen was a professional being paid to listen, rather than a friend who might turn her back on him or judge his choices. Yoba knew his choices lately deserved some judgement.
“Let’s unpack that, shall we? Let’s start with your drinking. How’s your sobriety going?”
“Last time I drank was…” he had to think a moment. The day after the mine accident. “Saturday. Last Saturday. It’s getting… more manageable. Easier to go a few days without the more I… practice, I guess. But when it’s a bad day, then I… I want it pretty bad, I guess. I’m no good at resisting.”
The Doctor scribbled down a note. “What prompted you to drink on Saturday?”
“Ari got hurt. There was an accident. She got badly hurt… I guess I couldn’t handle seeing her like that. knowing I… wasn’t there with her. We were packing JojaMart items into trucks. It was already a shitty day, and… Not knowing how to make it any better. I didn’t even know it had happened until she was in the hospital… that was hard. I felt like the last one to know… it was one of my last shifts at work. I guess that was on my mind.” Sometimes having to voice the excuses for his behaviours out loud made him all the more aware of just how pathetic his justifications were.
“I’m really sorry to hear that, Shane. I can only imagine how stressful that must have been. It sounds like a lot has been going on. How’s Ari doing now?”
“She’s recovering… but… she also told me she wants a divorce.”
The doctor raised an eyebrow, “that can’t been easy to hear. Do you know what prompted her telling you that?” She loved that word: prompted.
“Well, you know we’ve been having… issues. I’ve been thinking about it for days. I keep wanting to… blame her. Like, in my head, something keeps saying that I’d been waiting for her to abandon me all along. Because I hate myself, and I never felt good enough for her love. But… I don’t think that’s actually true, or fair. I’ve been trying to do better. I’ve been trying to get sober. But I’ve fucked up a lot. Like, a lot. And this one time, she needed me, and I was drunk. She needed me, and I got drunk. She’s always so strong for me… she needed to rely on me for a couple of days while she recovered, and she couldn’t. And all that, on top of the way we’ve been growing so distant… I can’t blame her.”
“Shane,” the doctor looked at him over the top of her spectacles, “you won’t believe this, but that shows I lot of growth.”
He shook his head, and she didn’t try to convince him any further. He’d have to think about that on his own. The doctor continued, “So, you’re going through with the divorce?”
“We can’t exactly afford it. But… I’m not going to fight Ari about it. I’m not going to force her to be married to me if she doesn’t want me anymore.”
“Do you think it’s the right choice?”
“Breaking up?” He clarified. The doctor nodded.
Shane sighed shakily, lips trembling despite himself. “I… I still love her. It’s not what I want. It’s not what I’d choose. But… if it was easier for me to be a better man then it… things would be different. I might sound like I’m… handling this okay. I’m not, really. I’m hurt. I’m angry. I’m sad. I thought we’d be together forever. But I’ve kind of singlehandedly made sure we didn’t last even a year. But… I didn’t treat her right, so… this is the consequence, I guess. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it… being unemployed.”
They went back and forth in this way, Doctor Rosen asking Shane pointed, difficult questions while he rifled through his thoughts audibly, trying to work through his mess of feelings. By the time his session was over – too soon, in Shane’s opinion – he’d come to some conclusions:
Firstly, he wasn’t going to fight the divorce. He didn’t want it, but he wasn’t going to fight to be in a marriage no matter how much he still loved her. He was at fault. He was – and this part was particularly painful to admit – guilty of abusing Ari. If she wanted out, he could understand why.
Secondly, he needed to get better not for Ari, not for anyone else, but for himself. He’d been wrong in thinking she’d be the one to save him. It wasn’t fair to put that kind of responsibility on anyone. He’d had a taste of what it might be like to heal while he was with her, and he was determined to make those changes stick. He would get sober. He would quit smoking. He would find peace of mind. It wouldn’t fix his broken marriage; it wouldn’t bring Ari back to him. But he needed to get better for his own sake. His loved ones would hopefully benefit from him becoming a better version of himself.
And, finally, another realisation had dawned on him during his therapy session. One he wasn’t at all happy about. It swirled around his mind all the way back to Pelican Town, his feelings roiling like the tide.
Summer 22, Year 2
“I know you’re in love with my wife,” the sudden accusation had Elliott almost falling off his bar stool. He hadn’t even seen Shane come in. Now, the shorter man was towering over him where he sat, accusing him – loudly – of harbouring feelings for Ari. Of course, he did have those feelings – the accusation was by no means false - but it was still confronting in this public forum.
Elliott coughed on his ale, trying his best to swallow down his surprise. He looked around the Saloon self-consciously. If anyone had heard Shane’s opening statement, they hadn’t made it obvious. Elliott was suddenly more thankful for the duke box and its ancient tracks than he’d ever been. “Shane,” he choked out, eyes watering. He swallowed again. That was better. But what to even say? Where to begin? “Shane,” was all he could repeat.
“Well?” The older man demanded.
“I’m going to head home,” Leah said suddenly from beside him. She mouthed him a good luck from behind Shane’s back before beelining for the door. Elliott would be sure to thank her for that, later. Provided he survived this conversation.
“Can I get you a drink?” Elliott asked awkwardly. Shane slumped onto the barstool Leah had just vacated. “I’m not drinking,” he grumbled. Commendable, though he didn’t look happy about it. Elliott himself wished he’d stopped at his first beer, for that matter. But this conversation would be sobering enough, he was sure.
“Just tell me the truth,” Shane said then. Elliott looked at the older man. He was so tired, so sad. He was utterly broken. It was his own fault, of course. But he himself had never even had Ari, and every day without her love was a devastation. To have had her love and to have lost it? He’d be beside himself with grief. Elliott exhaled. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know what’s happened between the two of you… how long have you been…” he couldn’t even finish his thought, but Elliott knew exactly where his mind was going.
“Shane. Oh, Yoba… Shane, nothing’s happened between us. At all. We’re just friends, I can assure you. Nothing. Not ever.”
“You haven’t kissed her?”
“Never!” He wasn’t a hero – if he thought Ari might want to kiss him, he’d have done it in a heartbeat. But she’d never do that to Shane. She never would. “I swear to you, there’s nothing but friendship going on between Ari and myself. She doesn’t even bad-mouth you to me,” he attempted to joke. To his surprise, Shane gave half a smile.
But then the smile dropped, “you love her, though, don’t you?”
Elliott looked down at the table, unable to meet Shane’s eyes.
Shane exhaled deeply. “For how long?”
“As long as I’ve known her, I suppose,” he admitted in a small voice, still not looking up. He felt like a child again, being scolded by his father. That thought was too oedipal and disturbing, though, so he shook it away.
“She kind of inspires that, huh? Love, I mean. She’s easy to love.”
Elliott looked up. He didn’t know Shane well. He certainly didn’t think he was good enough for Ari. There were moments in the past year that he’d have liked to hurt Shane. But now… he didn’t like to see him hurting. “I’m sorry,” he offered. He meant it.
Shane nodded. “I wanted to kill you when I realised. I thought you’d been doing something behind my back. But she’d never hurt me like that. I hurt her, though.”
“You hit her?” Elliott’s hand tensed around the waxed tabletop. Perhaps his thoughts a moment ago were too generous.
Shane shook his head, “No, no, I never laid a finger on her like that. I was a drunk asshole, though. Mean. Not loving enough. She deserves someone who will treat her right. You’ll do that, right?”
This felt a little like a trap. Elliott had seen Ari every day since her accident, and they’d spoken about it plenty. The accident, how Shane had been that night, Ari’s feelings. At no point had Elliott assumed he was next in line for her heart. She had a lot of healing to do, first. “Shane… Ari and I aren’t getting together. Ari doesn’t…” it was hard to know how much to say. But Shane wasn’t a gossip. To be a gossip, one had to talk to people. “She doesn’t know about my feelings.”
“You’re not going to tell her?”
“I don’t think she needs to be put in that situation, do you? Sometimes you just have to be there for people, even if it’s painful for you.”
Shane chuckled. “You’re much more like her than I ever was. Selfless, like her.”
“I really am sorry,” he told Shane again. “I’ve been jealous of you for a long time, to be honest. But I never wanted things to end like this for you. She really did love you, do you know that?”
Shane nodded. “It’s the only thing getting me up in the morning at the moment. To know, that at least once, I was capable of being loved – really loved – by someone so pure.” This made sense to Elliott. Not that Ari could love someone like Shane; but that the knowledge of being loved by her could sustain a man for a very long time. They were quiet for a moment. “How is she? Since the accident? Since the… fight?”
Elliott knew that Ari and Shane had seen one another since the night after the accident, of course. She’d slept a few more nights at the hospital, then had been taken back home. He didn’t know where Shane was staying, but he was sure they’d seen each other in brief bursts. He doubted they could talk about anything below the surface right now, though. He wasn’t going to mince words about the situation. “You really scared her, Shane. I don’t know how often you made her feel like that, but I could have ripped your head off.” He’d never have done that, though. As protective over Ari as he felt, he couldn’t fight Shane’s raging fire with his own. He had to cool down, be the change. “She’s healing, though. She was back to farming far quicker than I – or Harvey – would have liked. You’re staying at Marnie’s again?”
“I tried that… She’s not so keen to have me back at the moment. But… she’s been good not to spread the word. You know, around town.” Both men knew word would get around soon enough, of course. Word of their impending divorce, first. Then the rumours that Elliott and Ari had been having an affair, no doubt. It wasn’t fair. Even if Elliott never ended up with Ari, she’d carry with her an unpleasant reputation for the rest of her days. Her failed relationship with Shane hadn’t driven her from the town yet, but what if something like that did? Ari cared so much about what people thought of her. He decided he’d keep his feelings a secret a while longer, if only just to save her reputation. Shane hadn’t given him a real answer, but he dropped the subject. Maybe he wouldn’t like what he heard, for the millionth time. One day he’d learn not to pry.
“I think I’ll turn in,” Elliott began to get up. The second half of his beer didn’t seem very appetising, now. “Unless there’s anything else?” He gave Shane the opportunity to finish anything left unsaid. The conversation so far hadn’t been as menacing as he’d expected, despite Shane’s powerful opening line. All his teeth were in tact, so it was altogether a better outcome than he’d expected.
“Nah… well, just… when you see Ari, tell her I don’t have much, but I can put my savings towards paying for the divorce. I’ll get my stuff out of there… at some point. She’s been locking the bedroom door. If she wants to change the locks, I get it. But I’m not going to hurt her.”
Elliott nodded.
“And tell her I’m sorry, would you?”
“I think you should tell her that part yourself,” Elliott told him gently. Then he took his leave. A brisk walk down to the beach was just what he needed.
Summer 28, Year 2
The last day of Summer. For Elliott, it felt sweet – the migration of the moonlight jellies had quickly cemented itself as his favourite festival in the calendar year of Pelican Town. It had certainly been an eventful Summer, and in a way, it felt good to be bidding it a farewell. With every day that passed, Elliott was closer to completing his novel, and Ari was a day closer to being healed. And, he could admit it to himself, she was a day closer to being legally free from Shane. The end of every season felt like a fresh start, and this Summer’s end was no exception. It felt like a huge exhale of a breath they’d both been holding.
But today there was a bitterness about it, too. It took him the day to figure out the cause of the deep-set discomfort in his gut as the evening approached. It was only when he stepped out of his cabin and onto the beach that cool evening when it occurred to him: this time last year, he’d witnessed Shane and Ari’s kiss, and the marked beginning of their tumultuous relationship. This had to have been the source of the growing, misplaced discomfort he’d been on the verge of all day.
But new beginnings were at the forefront of his mind, and as he stepped out of his cabin and onto the glowing beach that night, he had a decision to make.
It all came down to Ari.
He was deeply, unshakably in love with Ari. Their friendship had blossomed delicately and intricately over the almost two years he’d been getting to know her. Now, it felt like he’d known her forever. His life felt intertwined with hers – he couldn’t imagine his life without her. If they remained only friends for the rest of his tortured existence, he knew he never wanted to lose what they had. One thing he knew for certain, by now: that bright spark of love had only grown over the seasons in the Valley. It hadn’t dimmed once – not when she’d danced with Shane. Not when she’d kissed Shane. Not when she’d married Shane. There was a small element of fear deep down within Elliott – that he might want her most of all because he couldn’t have her. Because she was so unreachable. Because his love for her wasn’t reciprocated. That his affection for her felt strongest in the wake of Shane’s claim to the young woman. Did he merely want that which he could not have?
He'd explored this ghastly line of thinking thoroughly. Most of him, the better part of him, knew this wasn’t true. In his heart of hearts, he longed to turn back the clock. He wished he’d been brave enough to share his feelings before everything transpired with Shane. Even if she didn’t reciprocate his desire, he wished she knew. He knew that to hold her in his arms would be the sweetest reward – undeserving of it though he believed himself to be – for his patience. His biggest regret to this day would always be his own silence.
And now?
Elliott couldn’t help but feel like the villain in his own story. And perhaps his guilt was the least of what he deserved. How sick, how predatory it felt to be harbouring such burning passion, all this time, and for a married woman! Of course, she was his friend, and a dear friend at that, before she was ever entwined with Shane. Even though things had fallen apart with Shane (and, again, he felt vile for the small spark of hope this ignited in him), he knew it didn’t give him any sudden right to swoop in and confess his undying desires. There was a time, not too long ago, where he’d tried so hard to make peace with Ari’s decision to move suddenly and headlong into a binding contract of love with Shane. He remembered feeling that he’d be able to make peace with it all, provided Shane became the man that she deserved.
But he hadn’t become that man. Was a good deal from being that man, and he’d lost her for it.
And that spark within Elliott flared brighter the moment he’d heard her shout, “I want a divorce” across the echoing farmhouse, even though his heart was breaking for the pain Shane had put her through.
He never wanted her to hurt like that again. That was a feeling he knew he didn’t have to grapple with at all. That conclusion was as simple as the sun rising each morning and setting over the waves every night. He could never hurt her like Shane had.
He himself was no stranger to heartache, and knew he could endure it a little while longer. Forever, maybe, if it meant Ari’s heart was safe. He knew he could keep his secrets a while more. And so he would. Was it right? He’d lost sight of what was, these days.
He made his way out to the pier, pulling on his jacket as he crossed the sand. He was earlier than most for the festival – a perk of living right on the beach. Leah was already on the jetty, always eager to find the perfect spot to view the jellies. As always, she held her sketchbook and a charcoal pencil in hand. They hugged, her pulling him close for a moment in an effort to comfort her friend. She could tell he looked troubled, he supposed.
“Careful,” Elliott told her quietly, “wouldn’t want someone to think we’re a couple.”
She giggled, gently pushing him away. “That still blows my mind,” she rolled her eyes affectionately, no doubt thinking about Ari’s misunderstanding of their relationship.
“Have you had a good Summer?” Elliott sat down on the pier, Leah finding her place next to him as they each dangled their legs over the edge, feet hovering over the blackened water.
Leah sighed. “I’ve enjoyed my work. I’ve felt very inspired. There have been some wonderful opportunities, and I’m so grateful to have been able to take them.” She was referencing her second gallery showing in Zuzu City.
“But?” the writer prompted.
“But… I just wish I could be as brave in my personal life.” Emily. Emily to Leah was Ari to Elliott. Which was to say, they were both doomed to suffer in their longing unless they took a risk.
“Do you want to know something I’ve learnt lately?” He offered her.
Leah nodded her head, casually sketching the lantern light on the water’s surface with stunning accuracy. He’d always be in awe of her talents.
“I’ve learnt that… maybe things don’t have to be some huge, perfect, grand gesture. Maybe showing up for the person you love is just as valuable as some big romantic plan. Perhaps even more valuable.”
“So I take it you won’t be making any confessions of love tonight?”
Elliott shook his head. “No, the timing isn’t right… but I don’t feel so afraid of… the truth, now. And you shouldn’t either.”
“You’re probably right,” Leah admitted. Emily had been single as long as he’d known her, and Leah had loved her just as long. There would be no harm in asking the blue-haired aspiring seamstress on a date, would there? At worst, the answer would be a polite ‘no,’ and Leah would be back where she began.
“I’ll make you a deal…” Leah told him, “I’ll ask Emily on a… date. If you submit your novel draft.”
“I-”
“I know it’s finished! You’ve edited it three times over. Come on, El. Be brave. I could have been much crueller, I could have told you to ask Ari-”
“Ask me what?” the dark-haired beauty of Ari towered over them for just a moment, Elliott’s heart stopping in his chest. He scrambled onto his feet, only to help her slowly sit down on the dock beside the pair of them. She was still healing, and altogether much slower at everything she undertook, shredded abdomen still a while off feeling whole again.
“To read his final novel draft,” Leah fibbed expertly. It alarmed Elliott, really, knowing how good she was at lying. Perhaps this was why the whole town seemed to know about his feelings for Ari; yet no one seemed to have an insight into the candle she held for Emily.
“I’d like that,” she smiled up at him.
“Well, as it so happens,” Elliott glared across at Leah – he was sat between the two women, so it was easy to give a pointed expression to his artist friend, “I will be submitting my draft to a publishing house this coming week… if all goes well, you’ll have to come to a reading at the library, like everyone else.”
“Deal,” Leah whispered, eyebrows raised in a challenge. Ari didn’t seem to notice any of this. She was preoccupied staring out at the calm sea. And possibly, in the shadow of Willy’s shack, Shane. She looked forlorn, and Elliott didn’t know what to say other than a soft whisper into her ear, “it’s not your fault, you know.”
She looked away from Shane, gave Elliott a soft, sad smile. “I never thought things could crash and burn so badly… in so little time.”
“You fought so hard for something you wanted so badly… you did everything you could,” he told her earnestly. His eyes followed hers back over to Shane. He didn’t feel good about the other man’s pain, but he didn’t feel a distinct flow of empathy, either.
“I had it, for a moment there,” Ari reflected. “I fought for it… and I got it… and it wasn’t enough.” Her love, her patience, her time spent, none of it was enough to keep that already sinking ship afloat.
“Things change, Ari. People change.”
“Or maybe people stay the same, and I’m just too much of a romantic dummy to realise it,” she didn’t sound self-pitying, only matter-of-fact. Oh, to be romantic and dumb with her!
“You’re not dumb,” he told her with quiet conviction, “you’re the cleverest, bravest person I know.” Yoba knew, she was a better example of what it meant to follow one’s heart than he or Leah could ever be.
Leah chimed in, then, as Mayor Lewis sent out the small lantern-lit raft that would summon the glowing jellyfish to them, with the perfect thing to say, “to new beginnings. Right, Ari? For all of us.”
“New beginnings,” Ari repeated.
The lanterns lining the pier were gradually extinguished. As the jellies migrated slowly forward, their entrancing light shining in the shallows just below their feet, Elliott was transfixed. Pink, green, blue, yellow, all with an unearthly, iridescent glow in the black waters of the night. Rolling in with the gentle tide.
Ari reached for his hand in his lap. Calmly, though he felt anything but, and without looking up from the water below, Elliott laced their fingers together. He squeezed her hand gently, willing his fingers to communicate the message that would always be true: I’m right here. I’m always right here.