Vacancy.

Well loved, worn boot heels striking rough ground on a day any other than this one would usually bring more than a sting to Sam's eyes.
-
From the dregs of his memory, the same sound stuck like a pin in the wall, that of his old man's boots scraping the gravel littered driveway as he walked the mail into the open sunny kitchen on a Saturday afternoon, a small pearlescent diner mug with coffee taken straight and black curled into his weathered fingers.
Sam's eyes would widen from his spot on the living room floor, taking in the sight of his seemingly perfect Pops consuming the contents from the cup.
The faded woven rug adorning the living room floor was always freckled with dirt from mostly discarded from boots, especially the pair enveloping Sam's at-the-time small feet. The leather practically begging for miles of adventure and memories to be added in due time.
Tiny dust particles flew from the carpet as he shifted to his feet, the afternoon sun shone through the air of the living room, shrouding Sam's Father in an warm and lived-in aura of farmhouse dust. "Sammy, we gotta get these barn doors fixed before your Mamma finishes dinner, you hurry and get done on that page of your book quick now, let's get to it son."
-
Sam wiped beginnings of the stinging moisture from his eyes with the hopefully clean rag tucked waiting in his belt. With creaking and groaning knees, he rose carefully from the worn peach toned wooden chair outside the motel office. He quickly was distracted by the sign looming hardly above him affixed onto the wall, wooden black letters weathered and clearly needing some skilled attention from a paintbrush. The small radio on the table inside the office doorway letting out a droning muffle of Bob Dylan, sounding almost like he was underwater considering the age of the machine.

Sam took a deep breath then sighed, happily and quickly as his attention turned back to the approaching boot sounds from the parking lot. He blinked hard, pulling his attention fully present to the sight in his foreground, a creeping grin spreading the corners of his lips. His hands held firmly over his torso, placed over one another in a welcoming comfort. He never could contain his expressions or swelling coiled warmth in his stomach at the initial sight of her, no matter how many times she breached his vision.
The boots. Hers. Well loved, weathered, a once angry red now softened to a muted browned blush in coordination with the memories the leather held. They struck along the sun bleached blacktop, comforting in sound just the same as the glowing Saturdays from Sam's youth. His smile finally cracked into a shameless full bore as he opened his arms to absorb her frame.

"Sam. Rossi." she chimed in a warm breath, pushing forward gently and squeezing her arms against his broad back with a growing smirk, big enough that he could feel it against his chest even through the flannel laid against his warm skin. Her voice in tone almost like there was a secret to tell.

"If I correctly recall..."
she pulled away slightly, eyes flicking upward as she stepped back enough to stay embraced in arm length, but plenty of room to take in the beautifully swelled curves of his nose, the subtle glow of the warm and nearly hazeled brown in his eyes, the sincerity that flickered there...the grin he wore shamelessly across that darling face.
She blinked quickly, not wanting to miss a moment, then gently cleared her throat still wearing her smirk.
"I asked you months ago.. if you'd like me to get into fixing that lovely sign...now..have you always been this stubborn, or is this a new venture you've decided to test in life?"

Her voice dripped in the winter air, warm and rich, Sam could swear it was almost capable of melting the rest of the icicles from the motel roof.
The man let out a deep chuckle rooted in his belly, as if to wordlessly say "You don't know the half of it."
His eyes drank her in steadily, savoring every small moment with the certainty of a familiar and gentle relief.
"Now I thought you knew what you signed up for when you decided I'd be responsible for helping keep this gorgeous creature on her feet!" He laughed out, gesturing pointedly to the old black bronco sitting in waiting on the cracked pavement.