It was one of those blissful spring evenings when everything works out just right. Walking head-on to each other were two couples: Randy and Katie holding hands and moving east, and Dewey and Emily walking closely without actually touching, moving west. All four were smiling.
There’s a magic about a spring evening to a couple in love. And these were two couples at least three quarters in love, because the jury was still out on Emily, the county lady with the great cheekbones. But if she wasn’t actually in love with Dewey, but was simply fascinated by what she thought was his fascination for fertilizer, the spring evening took care of any shortcomings.
It was a warm breeze that just stirred the hair, just took the new flowers into tiny nods. The message on the wind was clear: you will be happy forever. You will live a long time and you will always feel as comfortable and loved as you feel right now. The world will welcome your ideas and the roast on Sunday afternoon will be as rich as Croesus and tender enough to cut with a fork. You will never run out of firewood when the winter snows fall.
There was only one thing that could ruin this evening for Dewey, and that would be a sudden attack of his clumsiness. Dewey took accident prone to legendary lengths, you see, so he looked down and placed his feet carefully.
Two blocks farther down the street, the concrete sidewalk ended and Dewey and Emily walked out along the road with just dirt and rocks and other things on the shoulder. They were basking in the glow of a great day when Emily said, “Dewey, there’s something I need to ask you. Look at me for a moment, will you?”
And he smiled and looked at her and tripped over the cottonwood root and they both went down and their faces met and that kinda metamorphosed into a pretty nice kiss.
“I guess you answered my question, Dear,” she said, her cheekbones glowing like alabaster on that magic spring evening.
Life is good.