Chapter Text
She could feel the rumble of the engine and the crackle of the gravel under the tires of her truck. The trees blurred past outside the window. Her fingers tightened around the leather of the steering wheel, eyes focusing through the dust of the road.
It was early summer morning, the kind of day where the trees seem to dance in the breeze. It was the kind where the air is warm but fragile, before the brutal, unforgiving Texas heat creeps in for the season.
Megan Meiyok Skiendiel had just finished spending the early morning tending to the horses and was now on her way into town to run a few more errands. She was trying to finish her chores for the day up as quickly as she could, as her parents had informed her that they would be having dinner with the new family in town that evening.
Despite knowing she had a time constraint, the weather today practically begged for a lazy day. Pulling off the road leading from the farm, and turning into the busier area of the small town, Megan decided she would treat herself to lunch after finishing her tasks.
Continuing down the stone path, the car radio sparked, static crunching over the soft noise of a folk song. She fumbled the knob down, reducing the grainy sound from the cassette tape into the background.
She slowed down, driving unhurriedly through the main street, nodding to the familiar faces as she passed through. She slid into a spot near the side of the local grocery store, pushing the clutch gently and parking.
An older woman — the wife of another farmer, she recognized — waved to her from the sidewalk as she slipped out of the beat up pickup.
She approached, shopping bags tucked under her arms, her accent twanging as called out to the girl. “Megan, honey, so nice to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you too Mrs. Walker. Need help with those?”
Megan was already gingerly taking the bags from her hands, carrying them carefully as not to drop anything.
“Ah such a strong girl. My car is just across the street, dear.”
They crossed the worn stone road together, the old woman opening the door to the backseat for her.
“Have you met the new neighbors yet? I hear they’re from Korea. So exotic! We don’t get a lot of them ‘round these parts.”
Megan sets the bags down in the car, turning back to the lady while rubbing the back of her neck with her hand slightly awkwardly. She let out a shaky chuckle.
“They have a daughter your age too, perhaps you two can be friends,” She continued.
“No ma’am, I haven’t met them yet. Mama tells me they’re coming over for dinner tonight, though.” Megan nodded politely.
“Ahh well, thank you for the help, honey. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Have a nice day now!”
“Yes ma’am, take care.”
Megan retreated as the woman got back in her car. She kicked a rock as she walked, going back across the street and back to her vehicle to pop the latch on the door to the bed of her truck.
It wasn’t often they got new people in town, it seems everyone was as excited as Megan — well, more like anxious in her case.
She slid two crates holding an array of milk bottles out from the back of the old Chevy, stacking them on top of each other before carrying them around the side of the grocery store.
She pushed the back door open, entering into the storage room. Megan repeated this action, retrieving another set of crates and setting them down next to the firsts. She wandered out onto the shop floor, nodding to the shopkeeper, who was settled behind the counter, chatting to a customer.
He turned his attention towards Megan, “Megan! Good to see you, did you just drop off the milk?”
“Yes sir, do you want me to put it in the fridge for you as well?”
“No need, I’ll have Clyde do it.” The boy in question, a young looking scrawny kid, who was busy lining up cans on a shelf looked up at the mention of his name. He looked confused for a second and then nodded and headed to the back where the crates were left.
The shopkeeper momentarily stopped to wave goodbye to the customer he was previously talking to, who was now heading out the big double front doors. He retrieved a white envelope from under the counter, slipped a few bills into it, and pushed it into the girl’s hands.
“There ya’ go. Tell your old man I say hello, alright? You have a good day now.”
Megan slid back out the back door, tucking the envelope into the back pocket of her dirty jeans. She hopped back in her truck, letting the ignition sputter to life when she turned the key.
Four minutes later, she’s pulling into the small parking lot in front of another little shop. Bright green plants lined the windows, the faint smell of flora and soil – as well as something vaguely resembling buttermilk – wafted from the open door, giving the small store an inviting aura.
Megan took a deep breath as she walked in, her hands brushing against the occasional leaf of the plants displayed throughout the aisles as she made her way to the corner.
She picked up two big bags of fertilizer from the shelf where she knew they lived, heaving them over her shoulder and carrying them over to the register.
“Mornin’. Is this all?” The middle aged cashier ceased her leaning against the counter as Megan set the bags down heavily.
She nodded, already pulling the cash out of her pocket to pay. After exchanging for the fertilizer, and offering another polite nod, she returned to her old pickup truck, loading the bags up into the bed.
She was about to slide back into the vehicle, set on heading home until a figure veered off the sidewalk towards the plant nursery.
Megan stopped dead in her tracks, any previous motion dying instantly. The figure was a girl her own age. Her long black flowed behind her like a cape, her clothes were pristine, and she had a certain elegance to her, both in the way she carried herself and simply the way she looked. It was a stark difference from the normal country folk you usually see around here, so it makes sense that Megan was instantly taken aback.
Against her better judgement – or maybe, she didn’t use her judgement at all – she followed suit when the girl turned left and entered through the open doors of the shop. She swears her heart was nearly jumping out of her chest, yet she had nothing to chalk the rush of adrenaline up to.
“Mornin’, welcome in.” The cashier addressed the girl first, then turned to Megan, “Back so soon, sweetie? Or did ya forget something?”
Megan sputters stupidly for a beat, “No, I just uh…just… basil.” She reads the first sign her eyes could find, dumbly pointing to the nearest shelf, not even registering what it said before regurgitating the word aloud. She nods once, like she was confirming it to the cashier – although it was mostly to confirm it to herself.
She immediately busies herself with inspecting the row of basil plants, trying her best — and probably failing miserably — to make it look like she wasn’t psuedo-stalking a random girl she found attractive.
Megan puts on a show of rubbing one of the basil leaves and then smelling the plant, eyebrows furrowed and nodding along like she was deep in thought. She continued to harass the plants as she subtly watched the black haired girl.
She was filing through the huge array of flowers near the register, fingers running over the petals.
Megan realized she had been standing there observing for a bit too long, and no sane person takes this amount of time to pick out a basil plant.
She picked a random one off the shelf, walking over to the counter. As the cashier began ringing her up (again), she turned to the girl.
She was now holding a small bunch of flowers in each hand, a bouquet of pink carnations in one hand and one of white daisies in the other. She was considering each of them carefully, even holding them up in the sunlight raying in from the big windows.
Megan cleared her throat, “I’d go with the daisies. They’re my favorite.” She pointed at the woman’s left hand.
She narrowed her eyes in response, Megan almost started to apologize for imposing but then she nodded. It was a minuscule gesture, but Megan swore her heart soared when she saw the girl put the carnations down and move towards the counter, daisies in hand.
She left the plant store with a giant stupid smile plastered on her face.
Once back in the driver’s seat, she switched the radio over to AM, fiddling with the knobs until she landed on some soft country song. She took her Stetson hat off of the passenger's seat where it lay, pushing it on to her head. Her fingers traced the edge of the worn leather brim.
The familiar weight immediately pacified her, years of wear had shaped the object to fit her perfectly. She took a deep breath, glancing at the digital clock, the green numbers flashing at her.
The morning had long passed, Megan decided that it was finally time to return home.
She mused to herself, softly tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the song. The drive back to the farm was placid, the sound of wind and the smell of the countryside filling her senses.
She parked her truck in front of the barn, retrieving the bags from it and hauling them into the corner of the building. She grunted as she bent to put them down, brushing the dirt off her shoulder as she left the barn.
She passed through the stables shortly walking back to the house, petting each horse as she went by. She scratched their foreheads and between their eyes, nails running down their long snouts. She had spent the early portion of the day tending to them but she liked to visit them when she got a minute regardless.
She sauntered up the porch and pushed the screen door open, calling as she entered. “Mama! I'm home!”
Her mother popped her head out from the kitchen, a rugged apron tied around her waist. “Go wash up and then come help me with the cooking.”
“Yes ma’am,” Megan replied, sliding the envelope out of her pocket and setting it on the table. She entered the kitchen, setting the basil plant down near the sink window before pushing her sleeves up. As she washed her hands, rubbing off the stubborn dirt – remnants from today’s work —, she let out a small dopey smile at the sight of the plant.
She felt a little stupid, she normally didn’t get that panicked talking to people. But honestly, who doesn’t get nervous around pretty girls, right?
Megan spends the next hour or so helping her mom cook. She’s fairly certain that the Jeungs are just three people, not an entire village, but her mother sure as hell made enough to feed a small army if need be.
After dragging out the extra chairs from the storage closet and setting the table, extra plates and all, she cracked open the oven to check on the cornbread currently baking in there. The rest of the dishes already littered the stovetop and counter.
She washed her hands once more, the basil mocking her from the window sill. The sun had slowly begun its descent into the horizon, the bright blue sky having turned various shades of pinks and soft oranges.
The numbers on the clock ticked by, it was quickly nearing the set time for their dinner. Her dad had come back inside from the field finally, sweat sticking to him like a second skin. She retreated upstairs into her room, leaving her mother to fuss over his appearance.
She sat on the chair next to the window, looking out at the view and messing around with her acoustic guitar. She fumbled around, playing random chords and watched as the sun sunk lower into the sky.
Eventually, a rusted Oldsmouth Cutlass rolled onto the road, kicking up dust as it approached. Megan set her guitar against the wall and made her way downstairs. Her parents were already opening the door to greet the family by the time she entered the living room.
“Mr. and Mrs. Jeung! It’s so nice to finally meet y’all. And this must be Yoonchae! Such a beautiful young lady.” Megan’s mother raved.
Her father shook their hands, nodding in approval. Mrs. Jeung had brought a nice bottle of wine, which she pushed into Megan’s mom’s hands.
Megan simply took them in. An older asian couple, evidently around her own parent’s age. Their clothes were clean and perfectly tailored. They looked put together in a way her family clearly was not.
The older folks made their way into the kitchen, chatting formally in the way you do with someone you’ve just met as they went. Their daughter was still standing there, lingering in the doorway in front of Megan.
Megan looked at her finally, and–
Wait a second. Holy shit, is that the girl from the plant shop?
She swears her brain short circuited for a second. She blinked hard, like maybe she was just hallucinating the pretty girl in front of her. But when she reopened her eyes, she was still there.
Megan opened her mouth for a second, although she was entirely unsure of what to say. Until she glanced down to where Yoonchae’s hands were clasped together, a bouquet of snow white daisies in between them.
Megan let out a laugh, involuntarily. An honest to God, unguarded laugh.
“Daisies. Nice pick.”