The morning came bright and sharp after the storm.
Connie stepped outside and froze at the sight of his small patch of earth. The parsnips were ready. Full-grown vegetables, leafy tops swaying in the breeze as though they'd been waiting for him.
Kneeling down, he tugged at the first stalk and grinned when the pale root came free, streaked with soil but solid in his hands. "Already? Guess things grow faster here than in the city."
He worked methodically, pulling them up one by one, lining them on the ground. Some were ordinary enough—thin, crooked, average. But every few plants, he uncovered one that stood out, bigger, firmer, practically shining in the sunlight. By the time he was done, twenty-five vegetables lay in neat rows, half plain and half more than decent.
Snow padded across the dirt and sniffed at the pile before swatting at one of the larger roots. Connie scooped the cat up. "Not for you, buddy." He studied the harvest, picked the best of the lot, and tucked it under his arm. "This one's worth showing off."
The rest went into the shipping crate at the edge of the farm, the old wood creaking as he stacked them inside. He lingered for a moment, brushing his hands on his jeans. "Hope this works the way I think it does." Snow jumped onto the crate lid and sat there like a guard.
PIERRES STORE-
The bell above the door jingled as Connie stepped into the general store. Shelves of canned goods, seeds, and farm tools lined the walls, the air smelling faintly of wood polish and earth. Pierre looked up from behind the counter, eyebrows rising.
"Well, if it isn't our new farmer," he said warmly. "What can I do for you today?"
Connie held out the parsnip. "Brought you something. My first harvest."
Pierre took it, turning it over in his hands. His brows lifted higher. "Well now… this is a fine parsnip. Especially for a beginner. Firm, clean, not a blemish. You've done good work, Connie."
A floorboard creaked down the hall that led toward the living quarters. Connie glanced that way and caught the flash of purple hair before it vanished. Someone—Abigail, he guessed—was listening in.
He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "I, uh, put the rest in that shipping crate by the farm. Did I do that right? I wasn't sure."
Pierre nodded, setting the parsnip on the counter with care. "Exactly right. That crate is for anything you want to sell—crops, forage, fish. Leave it there, and it'll be collected overnight. Tomorrow, you'll find the gold in your account."
"That simple?" Connie asked.
Pierre smiled. "Simple, yes. But not easy. Farming's a test of patience and hard work. Still, if your first harvest looks like this… I'd say you've got promise."
Connie glanced again at the hallway but saw no one. He gave Pierre a small nod, the weight of the compliment settling in. "Thanks. Guess I'll be back for more seeds soon."
"You're always welcome here," Pierre said, his voice warm but steady. "Pelican Town depends on farmers like you."
Connie left the shop with the bell chiming behind him, the parsnip he'd shown off still sitting proudly on Pierre's counter. As he stepped into the sunlight, he couldn't shake the feeling of Abigail's eyes on him from somewhere unseen
As Connie makes his way home the dirt path wound between wild grass still beaded with rain, and Connie shifted the parsnip under his arm as he walked.
That's when he spotted her.
Haley was coming from the opposite direction, headed toward the beach. A towel was slung over one shoulder, and beneath it she wore a light blue one-piece swimsuit that clung to her frame, the sunlight catching the sheen of damp fabric where the morning mist had brushed against her. Her blonde hair, still a little tousled from the humidity, glowed in the sunlight like spun gold. She moved with an easy, practiced kind of confidence, her bare feet brushing against the dirt path like she was walking a runway instead of a farm road.
She noticed him and slowed her pace, tilting her head just slightly. The movement made her earrings glint.
"Oh, it's you," she said, voice light but edged with curiosity. "Connie, right? The new farmer?"
"We've actually met before.. ," Connie mutters under his breath, adjusting the vegetable under his arm. "Out for a swim?"
Haley glanced down at herself, then back at him with a small smile. "Something like that. After it rains, the beach feels cleaner, you know? The water's cooler, the air fresher. I can't stand sitting around inside when the whole valley feels new again."
Connie nodded, studying her as they fell into step for a few paces. The contrast between her and the valley struck him—polished against rustic, sharp against simple. "Makes sense. I'm still getting used to it here. Can't believe these grew in just a few days." He lifted the parsnip a little, smirking. "Not exactly glamorous, I know."
Haley wrinkled her nose but her eyes sparkled. "Vegetables. Not my thing. I'm more into fashion… or photography. Oh, and shopping, of course. Can't exactly do much of that around here, but I make it work. Clothes, colors, capturing the right light—those things matter to me."
Connie glanced sideways at her, noting how her swimsuit fit the curve of her shoulders, the towel slipping slightly to show a bit more of her sun-kissed skin. "You sound like you'd fit right in back in the city. Lots of lights, shops, photographers everywhere. Here, not so much."
"Maybe," Haley admitted, her smile thinning just enough to make him think she'd heard that before. "But the city isn't everything. People think they know me because I like nice things, but there's more than that." She kicked a pebble off the path, her tone softening. "Sometimes I just like to look through my camera lens and see what no one else is paying attention to. A little detail, a shadow, the way light changes water."
For a moment, Connie didn't answer. He hadn't expected her to open up like that, not from the way she first carried herself. He had pegged her as someone who didn't belong here—but maybe she understood that feeling better than anyone.
"Guess you notice things other people miss," he said finally.
Haley gave a quick, almost shy shrug before catching herself and straightening her posture again. "Well, I should get going. Ocean waits for no one." She adjusted the towel over her shoulder and flashed him a smile that was just this side of playful. "Good luck with your vegetables, farmer."
Connie chuckled. "Thanks. Have fun at the beach."
As she turned off toward the sand, her blonde hair catching in the sunlight, Connie found himself watching her longer than he meant to. She seemed out of place here, sure—her stride belonged to a city street more than a country road. But there was something in her words, in the flicker behind her bright blue eyes, that made him wonder what she wasn't saying.
He adjusted the parsnip under his arm and kept walking, the image of her drifting through his thoughts even as his farm came into view.