Robin has always been a little too good at preparing for the happiness she hopes will come.
A short piece written for a weekly Stardew Valley writing prompt event. Each week, participants write a story based on the given theme; some prompts are also held as “One Hour Writing” challenges.
Theme: Child’s Bed
Prompt account: @stdv1wri
📖 日本語版はこちら → [Privatter+]
After dinner, Robin was in her workspace, sanding a small piece of wood.
The project she had been working on between renovations on the farmer’s house was, according to her husband, “excessive service,” “meddling,” and “an inconsiderate thing to do.” He had come by more than once to try to persuade her that she ought to stop immediately, but in the end he had only shrugged and said, “Do whatever you want,” before returning to his research.
Even so, Robin continued shaping the wood with careful hands today as well.
“...Someday, the day might come when it’s needed.”
She murmured the words with a feeling almost like prayer.
When the farmer had first come to the valley several years ago, stepping off the bus, they had looked so worn down and exhausted that Robin had nearly reached out and asked if they were all right. Even the house, repaired only enough to make do with the sudden move, had been met with a tired smile and the words, “This is more than enough.”
Less than a year later, the farmer had come to ask her about renovating it.
The little house had only the bare minimum of furniture, just enough to live in. But the moment Robin stepped inside, she could tell it was being cared for gently and with great affection. So when she told the farmer, now so much stronger than before, “I’ll get started right away,” she had stopped all her other work and thrown herself into the renovation.
Then another full turn of the seasons passed.
Robin, having heard the rumors from the other townspeople, found herself waiting impatiently for the farmer to come to her door with a great pile of materials.
—Apparently, the farmer finally gave someone a bouquet.
—Looks like they bought a Mermaid’s Pendant from the old mariner. But they haven’t given it to anyone yet, right?
In a small community, happy rumors found their way to everyone in no time. Each time she imagined the day the farmer would ring her doorbell, Robin felt her heart lift.
And just as she had expected, shortly before the season changed, the farmer gathered all the materials with their own two hands and came in after ringing the doorbell, almost shyly.
“I’d like to have my house renovated.”
A larger living room. More rooms. A home that would still have space, even if the number of people living there grew.
Robin listened to the farmer’s wishes, adding more and more notes to the blueprints.
“...I could add another room here. What do you think?”
When Robin suggested it, the farmer stared at the area she had circled with her pen for a while. Then, with a small, bashful smile, they answered, “Maybe another time.”
“Of course. Just let me know whenever you’re ready.”
Robin smiled brightly, all the while certain that the day would not be too far away.
Ever since then, between construction work and even in the hours she should have spent sleeping, Robin had been assembling sturdy, safe wood piece by piece.
“One small, safe bed first. Then two slightly larger ones.”
She built them carefully, thinking of that someday when they might be needed.
So little hands would not get caught. So they would not break, even if someone bounced on them with all their strength.
So that the farmer and the person they loved might someday find happiness in the sound of small, sleeping breaths.
There would be many difficult things too, of course. But if two peaceful sleeping faces were lined up side by side, wouldn’t that be something wonderful?
There were people who did not think it was right to place two little beds together when the children were different genders. She had once been told, quite firmly, that separating them was the proper thing to do.
The nights when she had gently stroked the head of a child sleeping as if to hide their tearful face.
The nights when she had fallen asleep holding a tiny newborn hand.
Now, every one of those memories was dear to her, almost painfully so.
So that the farmer, and the person who would someday become their family, might be able to listen to peaceful, happy breathing.
With that wish in her heart, Robin assembled the small bed.
