Page 28 of Pete and His Precious

“That’s what friends do, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is.”

“Are we friends now?” he asks, like he really wasn’t sure.

“I think so. I don’t think I’m going to feel as awkward around you as I have, and I know I’m not going to deliberately try to avoid you.”

“That’s funny. Since before last week, I don’t think I’ve seen you at all, and I thought it was because I was deliberately avoiding you.”

We laugh together. “Apparently we’re very effective at avoiding each other.”

“I guess were good at what we do,” he agrees.

“All right, I’ll let you get back to work. Have a good night,” he says. And I wish that he wouldn’t have. I like chatting with him, but he is right. I can finish this book tonight if I don’t have any more interruptions. I probably should, because even though I don’t have any other jobs lined up, if I do happen to get one, I could begin it right away.

“Good night,” I say, trying to make sure I sound cheerful and happy and not disappointed.

I did get the book finished, but then I had editing work to do, and it was almost two o’clock in the morning before I get to bed. But I go with a smile.

The field trip didn’t start until ten, and I am up in plenty of time. Although, I have to admit I am a little disappointed that I have to go on a field trip to the farm, when my preference would have been spending time with my neighbor who turned out to be not so bad.

But, I don’t want to assign more to our interactions than what there actually was. We had apologized, and that was that.Maybe he doesn’t want to be anything more than friends. He was pretty adamant about just being friends.

Still, I can smile, because he turned out to be funny and sweet and that had been a pleasant surprise.

When I get to the library, Verity seems like she was already beside herself. Her helper was at the desk, and she would be manning it for the several hours that they were at the farm.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here. The kids are really excited.”

“You want me to try to read them a story while we wait for the stragglers?”

“We have three kids who aren’t here, so yeah, if you could just kind of get them all settled down. That’d be great.”

“I brought something just in case,” I say, pulling out two of my favorite farm books.

They both talk about cows, and they are both rhyming books, which I love. The ages that we have, first grade to third, were right at the point where the books might have been just a bit too juvenile for them, but they were books that that they should be able to read, in third grade, easily.

I read through both books twice, before the last three children showed up, and we head out to board the bus.

Thankfully Verity knows a lot of fun kid songs, and she and the kids sing the entire way to the farm. It wasn’t far, only thirty minutes or so outside of town.

“I’ve always wanted to live on a farm,” Verity says as we pull into the large parking area beside the barn.

“It’s a lot of work.” The bus driver speaks, looking up from where he is watching, before looking back into his mirror, as he backs up and aligns the bus perfectly with the side of the parking area.

“I’m sure it is. Probably more work than what I want to do, but the idea is romantic, you know?” Verity says with a smile.

“Not me. I don’t want to have anything to do with the farm. I mean I’ll come and visit, but the smells, the work, the heat, the cold, just no thank you. And, farmers never seem to have time to do anything, except farm stuff. I don’t want to be stuck on the farm all my life,” I say as I stand up. I’m careful to make sure that my tone is low enough that the children don’t hear. I don’t want them to hate farms, or get off the bus telling whoever’s going to be leading our group around the tour that forms are smelly and have bugs and farmers never seem to get off the farm.

That’s not what I’m trying to teach the kids. That’s just my take. A policeman...maybe I can get onboard with a policeman. The idea has been growing on me in the last twelve hours, but a farmer? No way.

The kids get off the bus, and an older lady greets us. She doesn’t look sturdy, as she leans on her walker.

“I’m Arley,” she says, holding out her hand to shake first Verity’s hand, then mine, then Jan’s, who is the additional chaperone.

“Nice to meet you,” Verity says. I’m the librarian, and we’ve met several times.”

“I’m so glad we could set this up,” Arley says, nodding her head.

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