The Farmhand's Crush

Chapter: 2

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the grimy kitchen window, illuminating the dust mites dancing in the air. I woke up feeling energized, ready to tackle the day's projects. I brewed a pot of coffee in the old, rusted coffee maker, the aroma filling the air and pushing me into action. Armed with determination and a playlist of upbeat songs, I grabbed my phone and reviewed my list again.

Number one: paint the living room.

I had spent hours the previous night watching videos on painting techniques, feeling more confident by the minute. I headed to the local hardware store again where I saw Harold, where the smell of sawdust and fresh paint invigorated.

After some deliberation, I chose a soft mint green—fresh and inviting, a color that promised to breathe life into the room.

With a few gallons of paint, brushes, and drop cloths in tow, I returned home and set to work. I rolled up my sleeves, put on an old T-shirt, and laid down the drop cloths. As I opened the first gallon of paint, the familiar smell wafted up, filling me with excitement.

I started with the corners, carefully using a brush to avoid splattering paint everywhere. The first strokes on the wall were hesitant, but as I gained momentum, I found my rhythm.

With each pass of the roller, the once dull and peeling walls transformed into a vibrant canvas. The mint green brightened the space, lifting my spirits with every layer applied.

Hours melted away as I lost myself in the work, the music filling the room and the outside world fading into the background. I paused only to sip my coffee, my hair pulled back into a messy bun, paint smudges adorning my cheeks.

Once the first coat dried, I stepped back to admire my work. The room felt larger, more open, and I could practically hear laughter echoing off the walls, a promise of gatherings yet to come. A smile spread across my face; this was the sanctuary I had envisioned.

With the living room completed, I moved on to the kitchen. The countertops were cluttered with an assortment of mismatched dishes and old utensils left by the previous owner. I began to clear everything out, my heart racing at the thought of creating a space where I could cook and entertain. The sink's incessant drip still haunted me, so I tackled it first.

Armed with a wrench and a determination that was almost naive, I turned off the water supply and got to work. After some trial and error—and a few moments of frustration as water splashed my arms—I managed to tighten a few loose screws and replace a worn-out washer. As I turned the water back on, a wave of relief washed over me when the dripping stopped. "Yes!" I cheered, pumping me fist in the air, getting an amused glance from a passing bird outside the window.

As I was about to start cleaning the rest of the kitchen, I heard a knock apon the front door. opening it I was greeted by the guy I had ran into yesterday.

"No fancy clothes this time City?" he raised an eyebrow looking at me, a warm smile on his face when he must had seen the amount of paint I was covered in, plus the water.

"No, today was fixing day cant you tell, the last owner said it was a few things but I think he left somethings out" i laughed out brushing the hair out of my face.

"Do you need any help? My mamma would kill me if she found out I didnt help a pretty lady" he was flirting with me? okay two can play a game.

I welcomed him in showing him what needed to be done. My main concern was the roof that i was not able to do myself.

"That okay City, i'll get in contact with a couple people I know. Dont you worry City." what was up with that nickname.

"My name is Faye by the way" I told him as he got his phone out to call someone.

"Okay City" He smiled and walk out of the room.

Shaking my head I set about scrubbing the countertops and cabinets, my movements filled with purpose. The once greasy surfaces transformed into gleaming spaces, reflecting the light that poured in from the window. I found myself singing along to the playlist, the rhythm of the music matching my energetic movements.

As afternoon turned to evening, the kitchen was beginning to take shape. I even found some old cookbooks tucked away in a drawer, their pages yellowed with age. Flipping through them, I felt a spark of inspiration. I would cook up a storm here, trying new recipes and inviting friends over for dinner.

With the kitchen sparkling, I turned my attention to the backyard. The garden needed serious help—weeds had taken over, choking any remaining flowers. Armed with gardening gloves and a trowel, I knelt down and started pulling out the weeds, my fingers sinking into the cool earth. The scent of soil mixed with the sweet smell of wildflowers was invigorating.

As I worked, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow around me. I uncovered remnants of flowers long forgotten—daisies and even a few lavender plants that had survived against the odds. "You guys just need a little love," I whispered, smiling as I replanted them in a more spacious area, giving them room to breathe.

With my hands caked in dirt and my heart full, I took a moment to stand and admire my work. The garden was far from perfect, but it was alive again, brimming with potential. I envisioned rows of sunflowers reaching for the sky and herbs adding fragrance to my meals.

"City, you put some hard work in today it seems, look to roof will be fine. There are some supports holding it up a little, tommorow the boys and I will be able to fix most of it. You think you can hold yourself back from running into the supports?" he questioned me, obviously teasing me.

"Thank you-" i didnt even know his name and I let him in my house and let him help me.

"Nic, my name is Nic" I nodded, thanking him again. I watched as the boys left my house, leaving me to be alone once again.

As twilight began to settle, I stepped back inside, my body tired but my spirit soaring. Each small victory—a painted wall, a clean kitchen, a revived garden—added up to something significant. The house was no longer just a fixer-upper; it was becoming a home.

I took a deep breath, the scent of fresh paint and blooming flowers filling my senses. I felt a sense of accomplishment that pushed away any lingering doubts. This was my sanctuary, my new beginning, and with each project I completed, I was shaping not just the house, but my own future.

With a contented sigh, I headed to the living room to clean up the paint supplies careful not to 'run into' any of the beems, my heart already buzzing with ideas for tomorrow's tasks. The journey had only just begun, and I was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.