Shane was lucky to be alive right now, honestly. If the farmer hadn’t stumbled upon him on that cliff that night…he shuddered to think of what might’ve became of him. Often, he felt like he didn’t deserve to have a friend like them. Who knew what they saw in a sad, depressed sod like him? The farmer had a heart of gold, that was for sure. Hell, their body must be 80% pure heart! They were too kind for their own good.

He’d worked hard to get clean ever since that little incident. Six months sober, he’s been going to therapy, and he’s making some decent money selling his chickens’ eggs, all free-range, of course. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work. And it paid his rent. Jas deserved a godfather she could look up to.

Shane felt like he owed his success at battling his alcoholism and the betterment of his mental health to the farmer. Without them, Shane was sure he’d still be rotting away in his room with a bottle in hand. He had to do something to thank them, but what?

Maybe a gift? Well, okay. That might work, but what? Maybe a pair of movie tickets? Ah, no, that felt cheap. Shane spent days mulling it over, until he finally settled on something he felt the farmer might appreciate.

With the help of an old cookbook, a pretty little dinner was put together in Marnie’s kitchen. Shane was no cook, so it took some time. He’d been a little too ambitious, using his chicken’s eggs to make homemade pasta…except it was a little lumpy, and a tiny bit raw once it finished cooking. He’d never made pasta before. Shane felt like an idiot, and was about to start all over when the front door to the house suddenly opened. Sh*t, the farmer! He’d lost track of time!

Shane scrambled to try and hide the deformed pasta he called out to the farmer from the kitchen.

“H-hey! Be over in a minute!” Crap! What was he gonna do now?! Was he seriously gonna have to resort to frozen pizzas?! Damn, I can’t even do this right?!