Uncertainty - Stanford Pines x Reader (female)

Chapter 40

It had been three weeks since I'd last heard from Ford and Stan. I knew that was just a part of their journey—communications were always either hit or miss. But this time, the waiting felt different. I had a feeling, an optimistic certainty, that Ford would be back soon. The anticipation was keeping my spirits high.

The days at my dad's workshop had become a welcome routine. The morning sun would filter through the wide windows, casting a warm glow over the array of tools and blueprints spread across the workbenches. The faint hum of machinery in the background was oddly soothing, a reminder that life went on even when my personal world felt like it was on hold.

Dad was in his element, as he reviewed plans and adjusted components. He had a knack for turning a pile of metal parts into something impressive, and his enthusiasm was infectious. Every day, I worked alongside him, my hands covered in grease as we assembled various mechanical parts.

By late afternoon, the workshop would buzz with activity. My dad's employees would trickle back in after their lunch break, chatting and laughing among themselves. The once quiet area filled with the sound of sparks flying, metal grinding, and the occasional swearing.

"Careful with that wrench, Y/N.", he said with a grin, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses. "We don't want to end up with another 'custom feature' on this contraption."

I rolled my eyes, feigning annoyance. "Ha ha, very funny, Dad. It was one time, and I swear it was completely accidental."
He chuckled, resuming his work on calibrating a motor.

There was a particular satisfaction in watching a complex piece come together, knowing that I'd played a part in its creation. Dad was a stickler for precision, often reminding me of the importance of getting every detail right.

Despite his strictness, he was a patient teacher. He'd guide me through each step, his hands demonstrating with a practiced ease, and even when I made a mistake, he'd laugh it off, insisting that it was all part of the learning process.

This morning was no different. We were working on a new set of components for a local factory, and Dad was in full 'dad mode', offering unsolicited advice about everything from tool handling to career choices.

"Don't forget, Y/N, a good engineer is only as good as their attention to detail.", he said, peering over his thin glasses as I carefully tightened a bolt. "If you're ever working on something this intricate, double-check every measurement. It's not just about fixing things; it's about making them work perfectly."

"Yes, Dad.", I said with a smile, knowing full well that his lectures were part of the job description. It was endearing, really.

As we worked, the other employees would occasionally give their two cents. One of the older guys, Jack, a wiry man with a bushy beard, chimed in with his own advice. He had a slightly different approach than Dad, leaning more towards the 'wing it' method.

"Don't mind too much about all these damn measurements, Y/N.", he said, winking at me. "Sometimes, it's just about going by feel. After all, it's not rocket science..."

I laughed, appreciating the contrast between my dad's structured methods and Jack's more carefree attitude. Another guy, Gilbert, who was always tinkering with some project of his own, occasionally joined the conversation, his suggestions related to the more 'extracurricular' aspects of our work.

"And don't forget...", he said, grinning mischievously, "A little grease never hurt a piece of machinery... or a lady."
Dad rolled his eyes, muttering something about the 'lack of professionalism'.

Suddenly, the door to the workshop creaked open, and in walked my best friend Willow. She was a breath of fresh air, her soft-spoken voice and gentle demeanor instantly calming the room. She had a knack for brightening any space she entered, and today was no exception.