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From the moment Daisy stepped foot off the plane, the air felt different. Cleaner, fresher — the effects of nature easing its way into her lungs with each breath, and it was like her body sagged in relief after five years of New York air.
Stepping out of the small arrivals hall, she awkwardly dragged her suitcases behind her. They were heavy, filled with anything and everything she could fit from the small studio apartment she had to give up.
She loved that apartment.
She loved her job too, but when the PR company went under, it took her right with it — straight to rock bottom.
Daisy sighed, swept her hair behind her ear as she looked for directions to the nearest car rental place, and she was about to set off lugging her bags again when someone called her name.
"Little Daisy-May back from the big city, huh?"
Daisy whirled around, a deep frown on her face, to see Steve — Stevie, her brain helpfully supplied — jogging towards her. All broad shouldered, blonde haired, six-foot-two of him in tattered jeans and a dirty white t-shirt.
"Your mom sent me," he reasoned, palms up in defense, "she said she'd text you to let you know."
"She probably did," Daisy replied, "reception has never been great out here though, has it?"
Steve just shrugged as he reached his hand out for a suitcase, and Daisy noticed the grease and muck under his nails, a stark contrast to her perfect manicure.
"You're still at the auto shop?"
"Yep. Your pops just made me manager actually," Steve replied with a proud grin. "Come on, truck's this way."
Daisy stared at him as his lips curled in a genuine, reassuring smile and for some reason it was really hard to believe that scrawny, asthmatic Steve was now standing in front of her; one big hand wrapped on the handle of her suitcase, and one thumb pointed behind him to what she was sure was still his father's scrap of a truck.
Somewhere along the way, she forgot how the most unusual things held a certain emotional meaning.
"Manager, huh?" Daisy managed to croak out, plastering a smirk on her face to sell the best impression of what she was supposed to look like.
Steve's smile faltered for a second as he turned to lead the way.
"Yeah. Wasn't that much of a change, as I already did the office stuff for your pops anyway." They were walking outside of the building and towards the parking slots until Daisy's eyes met the rusty silver truck she had expected. Of course, he didn't buy a new one.
"Still the same truck, huh?" Her lips curled into a tiny smile while she looked at him. Steve smiled back at her, before rounding the truck to place her suitcases on the back seats.
"Everything ages like fine wine. You just need to know how to take care of it." he winked at her.
"Down cowboy," Daisy gave him a tight, forced laugh.
