a Stardew Valley fan fiction: The Proper Care and Feeding of Souls

Chapter 5: E's Elegant Preserves

I saw

that my life

was a vast glowing empty page

and I could do anything

I wanted.

- Jack Kerouac

Grace sat on the front steps of the farmhouse, gazing out onto the acres she ventured to tame. It would be no small feat, for sure. To the west side of the house, there was a large plot of land, defined by a beautifully quaint white picket fence. Within the fencing, there were 6' by 6' flower beds in two rows of four, symmetrically divided and surrounded by red brick paths. It was always a special treat when she got to walk out to this garden with gran and water the rows of colorful flowers. Grace had decided this was the first (and easiest) project to tackle. Now, it was just a matter of psyching herself up to actually do it.

As she debated the project, a small dainty woman made her way down the path to the front of the farmhouse. As cute as a button, Grace was pretty sure you'd find her if you looked up the word granny in the dictionary. With her fine silver hair pulled up in a tight bun, she donned glasses you'd expect to find on a librarian and a lovely red dress that you wouldn't. As she came near, Grace immediately recognized her as the girl on the picnic blanket in the photo.

GRACE

"Hello, dear", she greeted me as she approached. "You must be Elsa and Ralph's granddaughter." I smiled and confirmed her suspicions, introducing myself. "I'm Evelyn", her voice was warm but thin, "but you can call me Granny. Everyone does." I couldn't help but smile. "Ralph and Elsa, they were such dear friends...." She drifted off for a second or two and then recovered by handing over a large plate of cookies. "These, dear, are for you. Your gran's secret recipe, mind you." She smiled and winked.

I was so touched by this gesture. I had such fond memories of baking in the farmhouse kitchen with gran. Her cookies were something I longed for so often after she passed. I swallowed hard, not allowing the tears to come, and invited Evelyn to join me for a glass of iced tea. If there was one thing I had learned from gran, it was the hospitality you extended to guests, even the ones who showed up unexpectedly.

Granny Evelyn and I settled into the two rocking chairs on the veranda and sipped our iced teas, swaying in silence for the first few moments. After a while, she broke the silence with story after story of Ralph, Elsa, Evelyn, and Evelyn's husband George. The four of them had met in their early '20s upon arriving in the valley. I grinned and laughed, even blushed at times as she regaled me with their antics. Every story was filled with such love and fondness. It filled my heart to know my grandparents' lives were so much more rich than I had ever known. My cheeks were sore from grinning when Granny Evelyn stood from her rocking chair and bid me farewell. I could have listened to her talk for days. She leaned forward and gave me a hug, a connection I hadn't realized how much I longed for until it happened. She was thin and fragile, but her embrace was warm and kind.

ELSA, 1947

When the rains came that season, they never stopped. With time, the rivers and lakes swelled to the point of bursting. Eventually, the valley flooded. In our years of courting and now marriage, I had never seen Ralph so forlorn. Eventually, the rain cleared, but not before the entire season's crop was destroyed and we were broke.

Because George worked for the mines, he got back to work straight away when the floodwaters receded. George and Evelyn were out a few days pay, but nothin' they couldn't recover from. Ralph, however, sunk into a depression. I knew he felt a failure. I knew he'd been undone by it all. And nothin' I did seemed to cheer him up. He took to spendin' his days grumblin' around the house and takin' off for long stretches of time to fish in the nearby woods. I knew he didn't want to face me. He didn't want to face our destitute situation.

On the days Ralph went fishing, Evelyn would stop by the farmhouse and we'd work through the chores while offerin' a listenin' ear to one another. We'd scrub the floors while ponderin' the latest happenings in politics, and hang the laundry while tradin' tricks to keep our husbands happy, if you know what I mean. Men didn't think much of women in those days. They loved us. They needed us. But they proudly held themselves up as the pillar around which the earth rotated. And, while the men were busy holding themselves up like that, well, it sure gave Evelyn and I a lot of time. And with that time, we did more than just swap stories.

It was Evelyn's idea to see what the two of us could do to make money. We knew we had all the brains the men had, but we needed to find somethin' that wouldn't cause too much of a stir. Early one morning before George set off for the mines, Evelyn served him a freshly made batch of preserves using the recipe I'd shared with her a few days prior. As she spread it on her warm toast and took the first bite, it came to her, she'd told me, and that's when she came a runnin' all the way to my house in her morning dress without stoppin' to put down her toast.

The next day, we foraged the forest for berries until we had a whole barrel full, and before we knew it, we had a hundred jars of preserves before us. After some debate, we settled on E's Elegant Preserves. E's for our names but we were too chicken to announce we were two women and elegant so we could charge 25 cents a jar. I hand-decorated each jar with our name and a little fancy flower design. When we were done, I hid the jars on the shelves in the basement of the farmhouse and waited until Ralph's next day of fishin'.

A few days passed but it felt like an eternity to us. Then finally, he set out with his pole and tackle box and Evelyn and I hopped the bus to the city. Once we got there, we wasted no time knockin' on every door we could find that we thought might want our jam: grocery stores, hotels, restaurants. We thought this'd be easy, but it wasn't. The nos piled up quick. Discouraged, we grabbed a loaf of bread at the last store we'd been to and cracked open a jar to make jelly sandwiches for lunch. When we finished, we had more than half a jar left, which gave us an idea. We went back to revisit all of our nos bearing samples. And once they got a taste of E's Elegant Preserves, well, as they say, the rest is history.

From that day forward, Evelyn and I spent all our free time makin' and sellin' preserves. I never once told Ralph about it, but once a week, I'd stuff the cigar box under the mattress with all the money we'd made. He never seemed to wonder how it got there. 1947 was a tough year for our family, a tough year for the valley, but me and Evelyn, we dug in and did what we had to to make it through, together.

*****

That afternoon, crouched down in the flower beds pulling weeds and tilling soil, Grace couldn't stop running each story through her mind, picturing the two young couples building their lives together, the women leaning on each other, and the mischievous ways in which they made their mark on the world. Evelyn gave her such a treasure that afternoon. It gave her hope, even if just for a moment, that she, too, might someday have such rich friendships and love in her own life. And that she still had a chance to make her own mark in the world.

Some women fear

the fire

some women simply

become it....

- r.h. sin