Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Our Love Story, Part IX

Catch up on Parts I-VIII here.
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The evening after my heatstroke incident, I remembered my little promise to St. Anthony. Six Rosaries was the final bid for a few unearthed pipes. Sheesh. I knew I'd better get started.

It was around 10:00 at night when I went out on to the front porch at the farm to start chipping away at my debt. There was a cool breeze blowing up from the river, the crickets were chirping merrily, and the irrigation runoff was trickling lazily admidst the chorus of frogs. There was such deep peace and natural idyllic beauty.
Jane Bennet: "I want to talk very seriously. Let me know every thing that I am to know, without delay. Will you tell me how long you have loved him?"

Elizabeth: "It has been coming on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. But I believe I must date it from my first seeing his beautiful grounds at Pemberley."
And how!

Mr. Amazing was out that evening and the others had turned in for the night. I was quite content in my meditations on the Aves and Paters to the tranquil tunes of the twilight. As I finished the end of my first downpayment and pocketed my Rosary, I could see twinkling lights from off in the distance.

They were too rigidly parallel to be fireflies. Headlights!! Gasp!! He was coming home, and I was on the front porch... looking like I'd waited up for him!

"Go inside and pretend to be asleep," my interior counsel beckoned me. "Hurry!"

"Stay out here and pretend to be asleep," my Id urged. "Or better yet, whip out those beads and look pious!"

Aah!! He was nearly there!!

My superego was squelched and I planted myself more firmly on the front porch. I did, however, swing my chair around to face away from the steps up the porch; if he wanted to talk to me he'd have to approach me. I sat in the dark silence with my Rosary dangling from my fingers freely and quite conspicuously over the chair.

He parked. Turned off his pickup. The door slammed. Footsteps on the gravel drive.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

He paused to pet the dog.

My pulse quickened.

He paused to take in the starlight (I safely observed by glancing over my shoulder, veiled as I was by the darkness of the porch).

"Would you hurry up and get up here?" I thought, as I tried to position my Rosary to catch the faint beams of moonlight. "Got to dazzle him with my radiant piety," I reasoned.

Finally, his heavy work-wearied feet clomped up the stairs. He stalled to take off his muddy boots.

"Glisten, Rosary, glisten!!" I entreated the dull cold beads. He hadn't yet noticed I was there, and my boldness in remaining on the porch would've been foiled had he gone in. Obviously if I'd walked in after him, he would have discovered my creepy stalker tendencies... following him in after lurking in the shadows, and all.

"Well, if you won't glisten, at least chime some delicate tune," I thought as I rattled them lightly.

The dumb dog barked just as the beads clinked an angelic clink. (How I wanted to strangle him with them!)

Getting desperate as he opened the door to go in, I let out a gentle feminine cough, as though the cold wind had damaged my delicate constitution.

Perfect.

"Oh," he paused in the doorway, surprised. "Hi. I didn't see you there."

"Oh," I said, as though I were equally surprised by his presence. "I was just enjoying the lovely evening while praying my nightly Rosary."

"Oh," he replied. I could tell he was impressed. Score!

He came out and closed the door. Yes!

He commented on the croaking frogs and I turned my chair around to face his. He patted the dog with his socked toes.

So passed another of the loveliest evenings of my life. We talked for hours, but it passed oh so quickly. We could hear the chime from inside the house; midnight.

The spell was broken. "Oh my, it's late. You should go to bed; farm work starts early tomorrow, hm?"

"Yes, you're right," he said... a little reluctantly, I thought. "Are you coming to work at the alfalfa field tomorrow?" he asked.

I briefly recalled my brush with death the day before, the unforgiving heat and the grimy film of sweat and dust that had covered my entire being. But he was either asking for free labor or was genuinely interested in having me along; I wasn't sure which, but I didn't want to take any chances and was hedging my bets for the latter. "Of course! I wouldn't miss it!" I said enthusiastically.

"Alright, you'd better get to bed too, then," he smiled. "Good night."

To be continued...

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