Taking Root (Stardew Valley - Shane)

Chapter Seventeen

There are many things that I am unsure about. From the dizzying task of choosing a favourite song, to deciding which type of pasta to cook for dinner - I have to be one of the most indecisive human beings to have ever walked the winding paths of Stardew Valley. I mean, how are you even supposed to know what pasta to buy when the shelf is full of a million different shapes? I guess I do love a good spaghetti, piled up with Bolognese and heaps of shredded cheese - but wait, no, what about ravioli? That stuff is basically teeny tiny parcels of deliciousness being delivered straight to your mouth. No - I've got it now. Simple Penne. You can't beat a classic... right?

I am making quite a strong and clear decision that I am completely terrible at making decisions. However, over the past few weeks I had slowly become very sure about one thing - the farm needed some kind of animal presence.

So, when I peered out through the slightly-fogged kitchen window and saw a familiar figure trudging between my plots of corn and along my primitive, brushed-dirt path, with a particularly fluffy friend in tow, I had a feeling my prayers were about to be answered.

It was just another simple weekday, 6.30PM, and I finished washing up the remaining dishes in the sink as I watched Shane grow nearer to the cabin. For a split second, my body was about to make the totally sane decision of bounding to the door and opening it right there and then to greet him with a friendly smile - but in my typical awkward fashion, I decided to duck down behind the kitchen countertop to hide instead. So, I found myself crouching against the tiled kitchen floor, listening out for his footsteps against the creaking wood of my veranda and wondering how he would announce himself.

Thud thud thud. Okay, so that's what it sounds like when Shane knocks on your front door.

I clambered to my feet, straightened my shirt and ran a hand through my hair a few times before casually opening the door with a "Shane?" as if I was at all surprised by his presence.

Shane was perfectly out of place on the wooden steps to my grandpa's cabin. The green of the farmland forming a painted background behind him, speckled with the warm orange and red dots of my fruiting vegetables - and he was a sharp blue brushstroke in the middle of the page. His shabby Jojamart jacket was lit up in all of it's glory by the evening sun so that I could notice where the fabric was fraying and how a few threads hung loosely around the patched 'J'. His hair had curled up more than usual, probably from the summer humidity, and it looked just as messy as his uniform - like he had pawed at it with his rough hands many times throughout the day. There was purple bruising and a few small cuts decorating his knuckles. If he was still in that hideous Joja jacket, then it meant he had ambled here straight from work, right? Or that he felt his visit to me was too important, too rushed to even get changed, and-

"Were you just hiding in your kitchen?" He asked immediately, one of his eyebrows raised as his eyes scanned me and darted over my shoulder to the room behind.

"I-Uh, what?"
"You just saw me and ducked!" He pressed, a stupid smirk forming on his stupid lips.
"No I didn't."
"I saw you through the window-"
"No you didn't."

A hefty dog lay idly at the left foot of Shane, curled up like a spoonful of chocolate spread - it's tail drumming softly against the back of his jeans in a comforting rhythm. It made for a pretty good excuse to change the conversation. "Who's this?"

"Right- this little girl is for you."
"What?"
"Marn was going to bring her over- she's a farm dog. Or, at least, she thinks she is. Marnie tries to keep her at the ranch, but she's always trying to get on your land." Shane explained, and he bent down into a crouch to scratch the fluffy bundle behind her ear. "So. She's yours."

I lowered myself to join him in stroking the adorable creature, my small fingers running through it's thick fur as Shane's large hands traced circles on the back of her head. "What's her name?"
"KitKat."
"I'm sorry- KitKat?" I began to laugh. "Oh dear- who came up with that one?"