 "You don't?""No." He kissed her again and they both smiled. "It's
my business. I supply fertilizer to people's gardens. That's
what I do. When I told you I was in manure, I meant the manure
business. They call me the fertilizer king, actually."
She smiled. "Wow! That's wonderful! I was a bit concerned about
falling for a guy who had a ... thing ... for manure. You
know. But it's what you do!"
They kissed again.
"But won't this mess up your doctoral thesis? I thought that was
why you wanted to see me. Your tape recorder and all that ..."
"Dewey," she said. "I have a confession to make to you, too. I'm
not writing a doctoral dissertation on you. I don't want a
doctorate. I want you."
His index finger reached up and traced each delectable cheekbone
gently, and she smiled at him some more.
"I want you, too," he said. "But there is something else I need
to confess."
"There is?"
[to top of second
column] |
"Yes. You see, I have little ... accidents. I'm kinda
clumsy. I'll try really hard to do something right, but the next
thing you know, the truck's in a mudhole or a cow's in a tree, or
I've vaccinated Dud for blackleg, or ..."
"I'll have to hear about that cow one of these days."
"Anyway, I wanted you to know."
"Isn't that why we're lying here on the shoulder of the road,
kissing and smiling, and why I have a rock in the small of my back?"
"Yes."
"I kinda like it, Honey."
They tried to pull apart to get more comfortable but something
held them together. They both looked down at the fishing fly that
had joined their shirts together. It was that stonefly nymph on a
No. 6 streamer that Marvin Pincus tied to help Dewey find a
girlfriend.
Sometimes there's magic on a warm spring night.
[Text from file received from Slim Randles]
The Home Country book is now available at
www.slimrandles.com. |
