Emma’s Cottage: Chapter One

The summer sun poked through the leaves and kissed her cheeks as she stirred awake from her nap. How long had she been there? She slowly sat up and found that her sweet little brown cat had joined her while she was asleep. She settled back down and pulled the cat into her arms. Without protest, he began to purr in her arms, and nuzzled his way deeper into her embrace. The sun would be setting soon, from the looks of it, and she still had to start on dinner before it got too dark. She had made a vow to herself to use as much natural lighting as possible, when she could, but this was just so sweet, she decided she would stay a little longer.

After a couple moments, she scooped up the little brown cat, gathered the picnic blanket she was resting on, and the book she had meant to be reading, and headed up the hill to her little cottage. Her ducks had already started putting themselves to bed, so she ushered the rest into their little hutch and refilled their water bowl from the hose she had just bought from the store last week. She had been reluctant to purchase one, but it was already proving to be a very good purchase.

She threw the unfolded blanket over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and walked back outside to grab some firewood. It was a cool enough night that she was going to start a fire and read by it, as long as she could stay awake. It wasn’t that her book was boring or that she wasn’t interested in it, it was just that the start of the summer was proving to be busier than she thought it was going to be. It was already midway through June and she felt like she was so busy playing catch up that she didn’t have time for much else. She had allowed herself a day of relaxation today, and it seemed to be much needed. The flower garden was in full bloom and the ducks were making sure the pests stayed away. The vegetables were growing really well and it was time to start harvesting and pruning some of the bushes. She really was in a really good spot, even though it felt quite overwhelming.

As she began cooking her dinner, she thought ahead to the weekend farmers market that she was going to be selling at this week. What could she bring this week? Should she bring some of the pickles she made last season, again? Those sold so well last time. Yes, she thought I’ll bring some along and make sure I make more this year for next season. They are so much better if I let them rest over the winter. Maybe that is my secret ingredient: rest. And with that she fell into a rhythm of cutting vegetables and spreading them out on the pan to be roasted in her big oven. The little cottage came with it, and it was honestly the reason she purchased this specific cottage. There were others she was looking at, but when she saw the kitchen set up, she couldn’t say no. She had not been much of a cook before living in the cottage, but living on her own, and so far away from town, it was a necessary evil to learn. Much to her surprise, she was really enjoying it. She loved the little garden out back and that she was able to grow more than enough for herself, her back storage and still have plenty to sell at the market.

The little brown cat had let himself in and was sitting on the table purring away, waiting for his dinner.

“Sweet boy, are you hungry?” she mused at him, giving his head a little scratch. She had found him less than a year ago and really couldn’t imagine life without seeing his sweet little face when she woke up. The ducks were great little companions, but she did not let them into the cottage, and it had been a little lonely since moving here three years before. She had not really realized it until he had joined her. She really didn't mind living alone, but she was no stranger to the loneliness of it. Some days she would not utter a single word, even to the little family of ducks she took care of, so it was nice to have a little companion to talk to, even if he didn't respond in words.

She walked over to the small kitchen table and set down her bowl of rice and roasted veggies.

“Wait a moment, little man. Let me get yours.”

She had made some salmon the day before that she was going to serve him for the week. She pulled out his little bowl and filled it with leftover rice and the salmon she had pulled from the fridge. He purred and meowed loudly on the table as she walked back his way.

“Here you are.” she said as she joined him at the table, spoon in hand.

Just when she and the little brown cat had finished, and the dishes were done, she was sitting down on her oversized armchair and opening up her book, there was a loud knock at the door.

“Emma! Emma, are you home? Please tell me you’re home.”