With summer sun seeping into her skin Regina lie down in the grass listening to the slow, lazy, southern drawl of the radio announcer. "It's gonna be a fine week, sunshine all mornin' and a nice 70 degrees all through the night. Nothin' but good weather." Promised he, before listing off the songs next to play on after the radio ads.
Regina sat up for a moment to pour herself a cup of cool lemonade before returning to her laying position with her left arm tucked behind her head. Her other arm shield her eyes from the afternoon sun. Like that she remained, watching the clouds drift past.
And finally began one of the songs the announcer had promised a minute or two ago. This one spoke of a summer night on a farm somewhere down south. Regina smiled to herself, it was one of her favorites. But she had so many favorite country songs.
Country music was her favorite.
It reminded her of those easier days when Daniel was still alive.
Of course the she never had a radio so the songs themselves sparked no memory, but the lyrics. Those reminded her very much of her first love and the nights they would spend together. Some part of her had a feeling that he would have enjoyed the genre. That if they had been born to another land, that her teen years would have been filled with songs about tractors, horses, haybales, and pickup trucks.
Regina smiled to herself at the notion. Hell, Dan probably would have owned a pickup truck. They, to her mother's dismay and disappointment, would have probably torn up many dirt roads kicking up dust as he sped past. Singing along to the songs she was hearing now.
More than anything Regina wanted that. She wanted this world she had just imagined. She longed to remember events that never occurred.
And she longed to create a new future. To feel Daniel's hand wrap around her wrist once again. To show him the workings of this land…her land. Storybrooke. To show him what a radio is and figure out what his favorite songs were.
Perhaps in this scenario they wouldn't be tearing up back roads—those days were long behind her—but they could still take a ride in her Benz, playing Luke Bryan and Keith Urban until they had nowhere left to drive.
With the back of her hand, Regina wiped a tear from her cheek.
For a good while she just listened to the southern drawl rhythmically sliding from her stereo, interrupted only occasionally—when the wind blew—with a slight fuzzy static.
For just a moment she could practically feel him lying next to her humming along, only stopping to point out a peculiar looking cloud. Just like he used to.
Regina couldn't quite place how long she'd been lying out there. Too long, that's for sure. But she couldn't bring herself to care. With all of the constant threats facing Storybrooke, it had grown hard for Regina to cling to her memories of her first love. But somehow country music became one of the only things that made her feel close to him.