Oh well, he might give it another try tonight. But
this darn clumsiness of his always seemed to get in the way.
Emily looked lovely when he picked her up that evening. They held
hands and walked around in town, staying on the sidewalks to avoid
any more tripping disasters for our local fertilizer king.
“Dewey,” she said, stopping to look at him. “The other night, just
before the wine episode, you said you wanted to ask me something,
but you didn’t, because of the spill, I guess.”
“That’s right,” he said, making sure his feet were planted and he
didn’t move. “I had something to say, but I was hoping for a more …
romantic setting. I wanted everything to be just right, you know?
Something we’d remember.”
He’d been slowly backing up all this time as Emily played with his
shirt collar. That was probably why he didn’t notice Mrs. Miller’s
yellow cat, Pretty Girl, walking behind him. [to top of second
column] |
When his foot came down on
P.G.’s tail, the yowl made him jump on Emily, the cat go in the air,
and Emily and Dewey piled up on top of each other behind someone’s
garbage can.
She was so close he could feel her breathe and he couldn’t help
kissing her.
She smiled. “Don’t move, Dewey Decker. Just stay still. I think we
ought to get married, don’t you?”
He grinned. “You bet.”
“One more kiss,” Emily said, “and then I’d like to finish walking,
with my fiance’.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
How to catch a world-record snapping turtle on a fly in Oklahoma.
Read The Fly Fisherman’s Bucket List, available from LPDPress.com.
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