MyHappyPlace

A/N - Hello! This is my first post on here, and I’m just sort of figuring it out as I go along. I haven’t written anything in quite some time, so this is just something I was messing around with for the past day or two. Advice is welcomed! I don’t know that it’s any good, but I hope you like it :) Warnings: None. Fluff? General cuteness (I hope)? Summary- just a little short story about the moment ‘he’ realized that 'she’ was the one he wanted to marry. No fandom in particular for this one. —————————————- “Daddy, when did you know that Momma was who you wanted to marry?” … He’s finished up in the fields early today, for once, and is walking towards his car, crunching over the gravel, to go home. He wants to clean up before he returns to the farm to pick her up later tonight. A soft strain of classical music wafts toward him on a cool summer breeze, catching his attention. He allows the out of place melody to lead his feet towards its origin, past his car, through the barn aisle, and past the office, until he comes to the barn door where the view of the open garage bay stops him in his tracks. She’s wearing dusty denim coveralls over an old pink floral blouse, and her hair is tied back with a handkerchief. Her car is up on jacks, she’s changing the tires for the new set that she bought last week. Just outside the garage doors, in her field of view but out of the fumes and dirt of the garage, shaded from the evening sun by a patio umbrella, is a playpen that contains the sleeping form of the next-door neighbour’s baby. Erik Satie’s Gymnopedie no. 1 is playing softly in the background, and he smiles to himself as he watches her expertly break the bolts on the final tire, setting each one on the workbench as she goes. Just after she pulls off the old tire, the baby wakes and begins to fuss. She immediately grabs a clean rag and wipes her hands, oblivious to both her observer and the grease smudge under her left eye as she calmly moves to the makeshift crib and lovingly holds the child in her arms, making soothing noises as she gently rocks back and forth to the music. His breath catches a bit as pictures form in his mind’s eye; Her, rapping to Lecrae on the way to church. Her, laughing at a joke during haying and shoving his arm. Her, cradling a soft bundle who has her eyes and a tiny thatch of his hair. 'I want to marry that girl’, he thinks suddenly, moving back into the barn quietly as the baby begins to calm back into sleep. When he reaches his car he drives to his parents’ house to ask about his grandmother’s ring before going home to prepare for that evening’s date. … “Well buddy, sometimes it just hits you…”