Joel
“Marry me,” I say, finally. It"s all I can say. There’s no point in beating around the bush. I’ve been watching her around town. Watching her from a field near her home. I’ve asked around about her. I’ve put out feelers. And now, I’ve asked all the important questions, like does she want kids, how does she feel about farming and animals, where does she see herself in five years, will she be faithful? What else is there? Still, it’s an absurd proposition, especially for me. But it’s the reason I came, isn’t it?
cannow,“Well?” I ask. “What do you think?”
We"re sitting in my truck in the parking lot outside the dance. After her altercation with the preppy man-boy, it didn’t take much convincing to get her to hang around a minute.
,“What do I think about what?” she says, as though she
