Page 18 of Apple of My Eye
–Udderly Amazing Chef
–Out Standing in my Field
–Ewe Complete Me
–Silly Goose on the Loose
–Legen-dairy Cook
–It’s Pasture Bedtime (honestly, points are only docked here because she always wears this one in the morning, so the pun makes no sense)
‘You saw the new guy at Hal’s today?’ Mom asks before I’m all the way through the back door. I beat the dust of my shoes and set them aside. She’s taking up the doorway of the back mudroom, the one that opens up to the sprawling kitchen and dining room combination. I take a deep breath, inhaling the smell of steak, before I turn to her.
‘Mom, how on earth do you know that?’ I ask in a no-nonsense tone.
‘Amie,’ she says, in a tone that clearly communicates I should have known the answer.
‘How have you already talked to Amie?’
‘We text.’ She shrugs.
‘You text? She’s my age!’
‘All right, fine. We’ve been texting about the fall festival. And she happened to mention that she saw you at the store today.’
‘Hmm.’ I squint at her. ‘Well, yes, I did see the new guy.’
‘So, what did you think?’
‘He seemed .?.?. fine?’ I make to head to the kitchen, but she won’t budge.
‘He’s cute, right?’
‘Mom—’ I level my gaze at her ‘—you can’t be serious. I don’t even know his name.’
‘Why not?’ She finally pivots from the doorway, letting us both spill out into the kitchen, where she resumes her stance behind the stove. ‘And his name is Nick, by the way.’
I glare at her.
‘Farming can’t be your whole life, Lou. Your longest relationship is with JJ at this point! A horse named after one of those .?.?.’ she pauses, searching for the words ‘.?.?. those .?.?. those brothers!’
‘JJ is great!’ I retort. ‘And look who’s talking. Your whole lifeisfarming.’ I take a seat on my stool, the one in the middle, and gulp down a glass of water.
She puts her hands on her hips, resting them on the sides of her ‘Silly Goose on the Loose’ apron. ‘All I’m saying is that I heard he was nice. And handsome. I want you to have some fun! You’re too young to be stuck with us old people all the time.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Mom, he commented on my boobs after talking to me for less than a minute.’
Dad steps into the kitchen only to promptly put his hands over his ears and leave. Mom bursts out laughing. ‘No he did not. There is no way.’
‘You weren’t there!’
‘What did he say?’
‘“How do you like them apples,”’ I say slowly, enunciating every word.
‘You mean to tell me he commented on your shirt to you and you found that offensive? Why on earth did you think that was about your boobs?’
I look down.
