The Runaway: A Stardew Valley Story

Bloody Meridith

"I guess two months ago?"

"Is it irregular?"

"What does that mean?"

Now, Dr. Harvey's brows knit together in confusion. "Some women can have periods that don't follow a one-month cycle. The time between periods might be shorter or even months longer."

"Seriously?"

"Yes." Dr. Harvey looks back at his chart and scribbles something else. "Junox, when is your birthday?"

"February 7."

"So, you just turned...?"

"Nineteen."

Harvey scratches something onto the chart as he continues to investigate. "Is this your first pregnancy?"

My throat goes tight. I have to lie. I have to... 

"Yes," I whisper.

"Have you had any spott--"

"May I go home?" My voice is rough and muted. I pray silently that the doctor cannot hear the tears behind it.

Dr. Harvey watches me for a long moment before leaning back in his chair. "In order for you and the baby to stay healthy, it is going to be vital that you get lots of rest and eat as many full meals as you can. If you find that you're still losing your appetite more than you're eating, come back in about a week. I'm also going to put in an order for some prenatal vitamins, so be sure to check back with my receptionist later this week. It's important that you take them regularly. When you pick up the prescription, you can make an appointment for an ultrasound. Just tell Maru that it's a follow-up appointment, and I'll know what it is."

"Maru?" I tried to follow along with everything the doctor said, but the name of the girl from today stuck out more than anything.

"Yeah, she works here as a resume buff." Dr. Harvey scratches his head. "Any other questions?"

I shake my head.

"Okay, then here's an information packet with some general rules of thumb about pregnancy, but you are free to go, Junox. Be safe."

The doctor walks me to the door where a late afternoon sun is preparing to set. I get a bowl of soup to go from the Stardrop Saloon and trudge home. This walk is slow and heavy. My body feels warped and unresponsive. I don't bother to take note of anything around me until I fumble into the cottage bathroom, and attempt to wash the day from my face.

That's when I notice the thin white curtain surrounding the tub. A shower curtain? Folded neatly on the adjacent toilet is a towel as well. I run into the living space to find the small bed made up perfectly with yellow sheets and blankets. There's even a matching pillow which I had simply opted out of for fear of budgeting problems. Atop the bed is a note that says:

Dear Junox,
I'm sorry about you having to go so long without proper bedding, but I'm more sorry about what happened in the lab today. My daughter forgot to turn on the fume hood, apparently. She will cover the expenses from today as a result of her negligence.
Also, you are free to use these blankets and whatnot until you can afford something nicer. These goods will take a while to arrive, so I thought it would be better to have something old than nothing at all.
Sweet dreams!

Gussy's perfect white hair was puffed up at the center of his forehead. Even behind the black-tinted sunglasses and black hoodie, he was unmistakably Gussy. I could tell by the way his left knee bounced under the counter and flicked his wrist when he spoke to the nurse.

But the nurse called him Mr. Smith. The name of my father's driver.

"She's set to go, Mr. Smith," my nurse said over my shoulder. "Ms. Hornsby will need quite a bit of help getting in and out of the vehicle, though."

"I have the car right outside." Gussy smiled.

Gussy never once looked down at me. He played the part of driver perfectly as he opened my door and made sure to hold my hand as I lifted carefully from the wheelchair. The door clicked closed behind me so softly and my driver took his own seat so carefully, that no one would ever suspect the absolute panic and fury in Gussy's gaze when he madly threw the sunglasses behind him halfway out of the parking lot.

"Where is Tom?" I asked.

"He's doing exactly what I paid him to do."

"No, my father pays him to drive us around."

Gussy groaned and gripped the steering wheel tighter. "And I paid him under the table for this very brief time with you okay? Do you have your phone on you?"

"N-no, it's still at the hou--"

"Good, don't use it to talk to about anything but going out for drinks from now on," Gussy talked fast, and it was hard to make sense of everything. 

"What the hell are you talking about?" I tried to face my friend, but turning my body was difficult.

Gussy sighed. "I should have never agreed to work for your parents, Joy. I saw what they did to you. I saw it! No amount of money should have made that shit okay, okay?"

"Gussy?"

"Just shut up and listen, alright? What your parents did to you was wrong, but what this asshole has done to you is the last straw."

"Josh didn't mean to--"

"BULLSHIT!" The sound of Gussy's scream reverberated through the car. "He put you in the hospital, Joy! You nearly fucking died!"

I gripped the door handle. "I-I'm okay."

My friend only shook his head. "For how much longer? What about when you guys have children? Huh? You want this guy for your kid's father?"

"I'm not old enough to have kids yet," I whispered.

A snort echoed in the car. "You know how your mom makes you tell her when you get your period every month? You remember that time last year when you didn't?"

I swallowed. "What about it?"

"You were pregnant, so your folks took care of things before the media got suspicious of a seventeen-year-old."

"Took care of... What does that even mean?!"

From the corner of my vision, Gussy slumped in the driver's seat. The world beyond had slowed to a stop as we waited for the light to turn from red to green. Snow fell in little clumps and piled up on the windshield. The wipers made a high-pitched whine as they pushed the stray snow away.

Finally, Gussy said, "This whole thing is bigger than the two of us, Joy. I can't fight these kinds of forces. I can't rescue you... But I am going to be here for you. From now on, I am on your side."

"Gussy, you've always been on my side."

The car moved forward once more, and Gussy trained his attention on the snowy road. When he spoke again, there was something heavy in his voice. "If there's something wrong, even the slightest something wrong, I want you to text me that you need a Bloody Meridith."

"But I hate tomato juice?"

"Exactly," Gussy stressed. "And I will know that."