Chapter 25: The CowboyThe next few days blended together like a meatloaf dinner. The meat and gravy mixed with the mashed potatoes, the mashed potatoes mixed with the peas and carrots, and everything turned into a beautiful mess. Frankly, March felt as if it had turned into April, but it hadn’t yet. The weather warmed along the lake, thawing ice and melting most of the snow. In anticipation of spring (and April), Scott Sebold—between his s****l affairs in his bedroom—started to take interest in the gardens again, scrutinizing the damage from the seasonal wind and winter storms. Nothing seemed more beautiful, I realized.
The cowboy insisted he wanted to see me. Had I made the effort of translating such a comment I could have said he wanted in my pants, which I didn’t have a problem with, o
