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Me: Did they put you in a boot? Or a walking cast?
Maggie Moore: …did you really only text to find out about my injury?
Maggie Moore: A boot, to answer your question.
Did I only text her to ask about her injury? I admit, I have thought about her every night this week as I laid in bed, but I could chalk that up to how long I’ve been alone.
But there’s just something about her I can’t put my finger on. Something about the way she absolutely doesn’t want my help, even when she obviously needs it, that I’m drawn to.
Me: I’m really not sure what else I was texting for. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.
Maggie Moore: Well, I’m fine, thank you for asking. The doctor took an x-ray and said it looked clean. I’m supposed to be in the boot for 3 weeks, and then I go back to the doctor. Anything else you need me to report?
I stare at my phone for a minute, letting the noise of the crew wash over me. What do I want?
I want to see her again.
I’m intrigued by the idea of seeing her again.
I could give a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t, or don’t need her, or any other excuse to stay alone, but at the end of the day they all ring hollow in the face of that one simple sentence.
I want her.
Me: Anything else I want to know I’d rather ask in person.
Seconds tick by, and the silence from my phone is deafening.
I’m such an idiot, I don’t know what I’m thinking. Of course she doesn’t know what to say in response. What kind of idiot implies “we should talk” to someone they’re not even dating?
I shove my phone back in my pocket and focus on the row of vines in front of me. I refuse to look again until I get to the end of this row. Only fifteen plants.
I give in with five plants left in the row when my ass vibrates twice in a row.
Maggie Moore: So…my first thought was “why the fuck is he saying we need to talk” when we’ve never even been on a date. But then I thought about how you talk, and how you only say things that you mean, unlike me, who says every thought that comes into my head (case in point). So then I started thinking maybe this was your (terrible) way of saying you’d like to see me again….
Maggie Moore: So, if I’m right and this is your way of saying you’d like to see me again, this is me saying that I would like that. So, if you want to go ahead and try again, I will stop rambling and give you space to answer.
The voices of my crew talking with Greg floats back to me on the breeze. Greg’s been driving the tractor for us, since he can’t actually walk the rows harvesting like he usually does. I got enough shit from Jackie about asking Maggie out—the last thing I need is Greg joining in on it. Just because I’m intrigued by her, doesn’t mean that I need or want them inserting themselves in my love life.
Stopping in the shadow of the last few plants, I pause before typing out my answer.
Me: If you are up for it, I’d like to take you to dinner. I realize it’s short notice and you probably already have plans, but would you be interested in getting dinner with me tonight?
Maggie
“Aww, that was a pretty good save, Mags.” Ophie’s reading over my shoulder. Again. I swear, only little sisters can get away with that kind of shit.
“I don’t think I asked for your opinion.” I glare at her—not that I can glare anywhere near as well as Kel. Ophie just laughs and takes my mug away.
“If you didn’t want me to read it, you shouldn’t have made such a loud expression on your face. How was I supposed to resist when I could see you go from intrigued to annoyed to mushy over the space of a minute? And you definitely shouldn’t have giggled so loud when you saved his contact in your phone.”
I reach out to smack her butt, but she dodges me easily from my spot on the couch. “My face is not that loud.”
“You sure about that?” She points an accusing finger at me before I can finish swinging my legs off the end of the couch. “Nope, you put that foot back up, ma’am. The doctor said you’re supposed to stay off it as much as possible this week.” Ophie holds the mug up. “Refill? And answer him already.”
“I can’t go anywhere tonight—I’m supposed to be resting.” I stick my tongue out at her before going back to staring at my screen.
Me: Thank you for the new and improved version of your request. I don’t have plans tonight, but the doctor did tell me to stay off my foot as much as possible, so I don’t think tonight is a good idea. Maybe next week?
