At the pumpkin patch...
Maybe I’m too old for this now. This used to be fun. Turning the corner by the barn, I spy endless rows of pumpkins making a haphazard pattern in the field.
I want a really giant one this year to fill this expanding hole in my chest. When I find the biggest one, I try to lift it into the wagon. Which isn’t working out so well. It’s seriously heavy.
“What are you trying to do, sink the Titanic with that?”
Startled, I turn to face Ryan staring down at me from underneath his long eyelashes.
Oh, man. I haven’t seen him since the note writing incident. But now I know that he knows that I might like him. Especially after what Joey said to me in the hallway. Ryan knows. He must know. About the note. Especially considering the fact that he and Joey hang out together and everything.
“That was a joke. Earth to Peaches.” He lifts his eyebrows questioningly.
I feel my cheeks flame. “Um, yeah,” I say, squinting up at him, helpless.
“Would you like a hand with that?” he offers.
“Um, yeah,” I say again, because evidently that is the extent of my vocabulary.
He grins. “Ma’am,” he tips his imaginary hat my direction and speaks in a western drawl. “I’d be honored if you’d lemme help you with that.”
Okay.
Goofy.
Goofy but cute.
So I decide to play along. “Why, thank you,” I say in my best demure voice and flutter my eyelashes, then crack-up because I feel so ridiculous. He chuckles, too. Amazingly, through a fit of laughter, we manage to get the ginormous pumpkin into the wagon without crushing our fingers. But then it’s like, mission accomplished, and things get quiet.
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