Chapter Text
If Gemma had asked herself ten years ago if she would be here again, she would never have believed it. She would never believe that she was ever setting foot on the farm ever again. She would never have believed that she herself could be a landowner, let alone the owner of a prestigious farm.
It felt like a dream as she stepped off the bus step into the muddy puddle below her. Walking down the road west of town was like deja vu. The gate to the farm creaked when opened, just as it always had. Gemma felt like she had stepped into the past, somehow. The enormous farmhouse with the pile of wood on one side. The greenhouse skeleton that her grandfather always said he would finish but never did. The field that spanned as far as she could see. The wave of nostalgia that hit her was like a tsunami as she stepped onto the land that was her childhood home.
Time stood still for no one, though. The grass and weeds that reached to her knees did a fine job reminding her of that.
Lewis had said the keys would be in the mailbox for her when she got here. “My, my, it only took you ten years to come back, Gem!” he’d said over the phone with a chortle. “Gus will be pleased to see you again…”
“Well, it has been a while, but I’m glad to hear that Gus is still manning the tap,” Gemma had whispered into the phone, coworker’s eavesdropping ears be damned.
“Of course, the day Gus is gone is the day this town revolts,” Lewis said, leaving a pregnant pause. “So...”
She sighed heavily as she remembered the awkward conversation. She could tell Lewis was full to the brim with questions. Gemma knew he would ask them later on one evening at the Stardrop Saloon after a few beers. Like, where have you been? How was Zuzu? The big city not good enough for you? Is anywhere good enough for you? Your childhood home certainly wasn’t...
Gemma was five when her mom was arrested in the motel room they had been living in. Her grandfather came around to the police station to pick her up. It wasn’t until she was twelve that her grandfather told her why she had come to live with him instead of her mother.
“Your mom had a lot of trouble coping,” he said. “Heroin was her way of softening the world around her. She’s not like you. She can’t see the sunshine. She isn’t as brave as you are.”
“I’m not brave,” little Gemma squeaked, hugging her stuffed horse. It had been another sleepless night of call and response. Her grandfather always tried to answer her endless questions about her mother the best that he could.
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re the bravest girl I know.” he said as he gave her a hug before tucking her into bed.
She remembered the way her mom shrieked as he carried her out of the station, stroking her amber hair. From that day on, she lived and breathed Stills Farm. She would help her grandfather pluck parsnips from the loamy soil and wash the dirt from the cow’s bellies. Gemma had fond memories of climbing apple trees and reading by the fire with her beloved grandfather. The two were inseparable when she was younger.
There were other memories too, but she didn’t want to remember those right now. Gemma was trying to let herself feel excited about this. Her childhood home was now hers. The house, the land, the memories.
She scraped her muddy boots on the weathered welcome mat before walking inside. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Alex Ruddicks rolled over to slap his alarm clock and groaned. How could it be 8 already, he wondered, as he rolled over to fall back asleep. It was Monday, not that it mattered. Days didn’t matter when you were unemployed. They could invent an entirely new day of the week and it wouldn’t matter. His life would stay the same. While most people would be bothered with monotony, Alex found comfort in it. If things didn’t change, all was well. Everyone was happy and healthy.
“Alex, my dear…” he heard his grandmother say softly through the door. “It rained last night, and I could use your help…”
There it was. The gentle reminder of why he wasn’t working. Alex lived with his elderly grandparents. Since his grandfather, George, had become wheelchair-bound, Alex found himself occupied with helping his grandmother around the house. He would help Evelyn with groceries, cleaning, taking care of the house… then there were the less fun jobs. Helping George get in the shower. Making sure that someone was there at night in case Evelyn fell walking to the bathroom. He shuddered to think what could happen if he weren’t there.
There were times where a job posting on the job board for part time help at the carpentry shop intrigued him. Hell, even Jojamart’s fading hiring poster appealed to him, with its APPLY NOW looming like a foreboding message. When he remembered them, though, he quickly dropped the subject with himself. Their needs far outweighed his own. Plus, he felt like practicing for gridball was an investment in all three of their futures. If he could go pro, Evelyn would never have to lift a finger again. George could get physical therapy.
“Coming…” he groaned, rolling out of bed and pulling a t-shirt on over his head. He mussed with his hair in the mirror attached to the back of his door before heading out into the kitchen. There, he found Evelyn hunched over, picking up a pot full of water. She was surrounded by most of her kitchenware, all holding various quantities of water. His heart sunk when he saw her.
“Gram, what are you doing??”
“Oh, Alex, it’s terrible, the ceiling is leaking again,” she complained, her voice filled with woe. He heard his grandfather grumble from the living room about how he would get to it later. Was he already in front of the TV…? It was a little early for that, but Alex shrugged as he took the heavy pot from his grandmother.
“I’ll try to get up there as soon as I can,” he said with a sigh.
“Thank you, angel.” Evelyn said with a smile, standing on tiptoe to give him a kiss on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”
“A whole lot more than you should ever have to,” he said with a chuckle. She patted his back as he turned to the sink to dump the water out from the stock pot and put it under the drip from the ceiling. He worked through the rest until they all were empty and ready to be filled again. Surely, it would take him most of the day to go to Robin’s and purchase shingles, rip up the old portion of the roof, and rework it.
He returned to his room to ready himself for the day. He dressed himself in his usual- a t shirt and jeans- but forwent the letterman’s jacket. He was afraid that working on the roof would only add more wear and tear that it didn’t need. It was his prized possession, the reminder of all he wanted to be capable of. There would never be another one. He went for a light rain slicker instead. Then there was the hair. He always wetted it before working it into its typical spiked shape with hair gel. He liked the way it looked. Alex had always been particular about his outward appearance. It had become ritualistic at this point to finesse his look.
It only took about an hour to get to Robin’s and back. He carried the lumber over one shoulder and the bag of shingles over the other, thankful that he had worked arms yesterday instead of back muscles. The walk back was long and arduous. He should probably skip working out today, he thought. Who was he kidding? He never skipped. This was the year. This was the year he’d make it and go pro. There was no leeway for skipping.
Alex scurried up the ladder onto the roof. Yup, there it was. A big fucking hole just above the kitchen. It looked like just wear and tear, but Alex had to be sure that it wasn’t something worse. He tried not to think of the possibilities. Hopefully there wasn’t a critter hiding in there. A raccoon would not be a pleasant thing to encounter while carefully perched atop the ladder.
Thankfully, it just looked like time had worked its magic on the roof. A lot of wood rot, not much more. He spent most of his morning tearing up the shingles and replacing some of the woodwork. It was easy work. He had already replaced the other part of the roof last spring, so he already knew what he was doing.
“Are you doing okay up there, son? Don’t forget to check the insulation.” George called from the ground.
“Yeah pops, I’ve got it, don’t worry.” He called. He heard George go back inside. The town was wide awake by now as everyone went about their normal routine. Penny took the children to the library. Elliot went to the store. Harvey took his normal breaks under the tree west of the plaza. It was an ordinary day here in Pelican Town. He sat on the roof, just watching the people go by. Evelyn waved as she went out to attend to the flowers decorating the plaza and he smiled a big smile as he waved back.
Evelyn stopped to chat with… that wasn’t Jodi. It wasn’t Caroline either. Who was that? Her golden hair was tied in a messy bun atop her head. Her hair complimented her sparkling green eyes. He’d never seen anyone like her in the valley. Her style screamed Zuzu, but the boots said farmgirl. She was petite, but built like someone who ate more than just salads and chicken wraps. There was something familiar about her. Alex was fascinated.
The girl waved goodbye as she walked into Pierre’s. Alex fought the urge to hop off the ladder and go ask for her number. This girl was obviously new. She didn’t know anything about him, nor he about her. Could he get across without acting like a pretentious asshole? He couldn’t seem to decide if he had enough faith in himself. Instead, he just sat, his eyes glued to the storefront.
It was only a few minutes before she came out. He scrambled to look busy as he noticed her noticing him just sitting on his roof, staring at her. Shit, he thought, now she’ll think I’m a fucking creep. He started spacing shingles on the roof so he could nail them down when he heard a thunk and cursing. Alex looked over his shoulder.
Her bag had split, spilling groceries everywhere. He glanced around to see an oddly empty plaza. “I gotcha,” he shouted, sliding coolly down his ladder. He had taught himself that trick last spring and patted himself on the back for it.
Alex rushed over and started picking up odds and ends. Various packets of seeds and enough supplies to stock an entire house, along with dog food, had all fallen. She’d had her hands very full, obviously.
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. The mystery girl smiled at him. Twinkling white teeth, green eyes… Freckles. Alex seemingly forgot how to breathe.
“No problem,” he said casually. Fake it til you make it, he thought. Be cool.
“I’m Gemma,” she said, trying to stick a hand out to shake his, but slipping and dropping the massive bag of dog food again.
“I’m Alex…. Can I help you? It kind of looks like you’re gonna need a hand.”
“But, your roof, you look busy…”
“It can wait, it’s not raining anymore.” Alex said, grabbing the bag of dog food and tossing it over his shoulder. “I can make time for a pretty girl.”
Shit. What did I just tell myself? He thought.
She just smiled awkwardly and murmured a thanks. They walked in silence as she led him down the dirt road towards the old abandoned farm. He hadn’t been down here in ages. Benjamin Stills used to live here before he died. Didn’t he have a granddaughter that used to live with him…? Alex couldn’t remember her name.
“Where are we going?” He asked.
“Stills farm,” she said, adjusting her load as they passed the bus stop.
“Oh yeah? You knew Benjamin?” He said, holding open the gate for her. Ben was by far the friendliest, kindest person he’d ever met, aside from his own grandmother. He remembered the gridball Ben had given him for Wintersday one year. He still had it sitting on his shelf.
“You could say that,” she said quietly. “I’m his granddaughter.”
Alex stopped in his tracks. Gemma. How could he forget? He remembered the summers where she was home from school. She would sunbathe on the beach in the summer. Alex remembered the way her hair caught the light. He would always find excuses to play gridball on the beach whenever he had time off from the ice cream stand. She lived in Pelican Town before he moved in with his grandparents. It had only been a few summers before she left.
“Gemma,” he muttered. He could hardly believe it. She was here. He felt sixteen and awkward all over again.
“That’s me…” she said, filling the awkward silence. They were standing on her porch now. How’d they get here?
A massive husky mix sprinted through the grass and nearly tackled her. She laughed and scratched his ears. The dog looked at him with curious eyes. Alex knew with Dusty that you should always let them smell before reaching out. He cupped his hand and allowed the dog to stick its frothy nose in between his fingers. The dog’s tail wagged happily.
“Oh, Storm likes you!” Gemma exclaimed. “He doesn’t like men, usually.”
“I have a dog,” Alex said, smiling at the pup. “I love them.”
Gemma smiled and laughed at her dog, who had put his giant paws up on Alex’s shoulders to lick his face. Alex grinned and pulled his paws down to the ground.
“Thank you for your help,” she said with a smile. She took the dog food from him and set it against the door.
“You’re welcome. And… um…” he said, trailing. She looked at him inquisitively. Sorry for hitting on you? Sorry for obviously forgetting about your existence?
“See you later,” he choked, before turning and walking back to his house, hands thrust deep in his pockets. So much for being smooth, he thought.