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I stare out the window, watching the trees pass in a blur. “No, I am. I really am.” I think. Or am I inadvertently running a race for my mom?
“It all happened so fast. Maybe you and Henry need a longer engagement. Like, what’s the rush?”
“I’m not really sure.”
“Do you love him?” She makes a left off the main road and onto a gravel road flanked by open grass. She parks her car near the entrance of the farm. “Like really love him?”
“Of course, I do.” I think. I’m not so sure anymore.
We exit the car and walk toward an open metal gate with wood-carved animals on each side.
“Wow, this is beautiful,” Poppi says as we cross through the gate and into what feels like a different world.
A mottled gray farmhouse sits quietly on a luxurious green field, dotted with cows and horses, and off to the left is a big red barn. It’s your typical farm everyone has read about growing up in storybooks. I’m more of a city girl, but I can tell Poppi is falling in love with the beauty surrounding us by the minute.
And now I’m not sure if it’s the farm she loves, or the rugged cowboy headed our way. He steps closer, his eyes twinkling in the soft sunlight dancing through the leaves of the trees.
“Howdy there.” He smiles, taking off his cowboy hat. “I’m Gavin. You must be here for the ring.”
“Hi,” Poppi says, “yes we are.”
“I’m glad Peter was a good boy,” I tell him.
Gavin laughs. “Yeah, that little bugger took forever to produce that ring.” He holds it out.
I reach for it, and then retract my hand. The thought of Peter pooping out my ring and what exactly that means never really crossed my mind.
“Um, we disinfected and sanitized it really well for you.”
“Uh, thanks.” I stare at the ring and then take it from Gavin’s outstretched hand. I slip it on my finger and gaze at the way the diamond reflects from the sun. My finger feels like it’s choking for air.
“Want a quick tour?” Gavin asks us.
“Yes, sure,” Poppi says and then introduces herself and me to him. She whispers to me as we follow him toward a fenced in grassy area, “I think I’m in love.”
He stops outside a goat pen entrance, and I spot Peter immediately on top of a climbing contraption.
As I watch Peter bounce around with his adorable friends, I immediately picture Henry. I swear, if Henry were a goat, he’d look like Peter. They’re like twins separated at birth. Is that bad?
Poppy and Gavin chat about farm things and I rest my arms on the weathered wood, watching the baby goats climb and play. I try to gauge if one looks like anyone else I know—preferably Ellis.
Gavin and Poppi walk off toward a section with chickens, and he calls for me to join them.
“I love animals,” Poppi says, dropping a few seeds for some of the smaller chickens.
“I love animals too,” Gavin says, looking into Poppi’s eyes. “Obviously. Hence the farm.”
It feels a bit like I’m watching a mating ritual. I’m waiting for him to throw off his hat, lasso and mount her. I’m so close to asking for his number for her, but then I realize things shouldn’t be rushed. So, I hang back, feeding the chickens and glancing at my engagement ring that now feels a bit too heavy for my hand.
Maybe Poppi is right. Maybe everything is moving all too fast. Maybe Henry and I should wait. I mean, why are we rushing?
When he asked me, I was so happy. But, I think it was more the thrill of planning the wedding, having the husband, having it all—having my mother’s excitement. Now that I really think about it, everything is moving at supersonic speeds.
I’m so confused, and I glance over at Gavin and Poppi as they make googly eyes at each other and think back if Henry and I looked at each other like that. Have we? I just don’t know.
I can’t even remember anything right now.
It’s that Ellis. He’s gone and messed everything all up. I can’t think straight whenever he’s around. Even when he’s not around.
I’m haunted.
I mosey back over to the baby goats. Wonder if Peter has a little girlfriend he wants to marry? Would baby goat weddings ever be a thing?
I snap a picture of Peter as he shows me his teeth. I swear I think he remembers me.
Ellis probably would’ve gotten a kick out of coming here today. If I had to guess, I think he likes animals. He was digging Georgia’s wedding. Unlike Henry who thought it was all one big joke.
“There you are,” Poppi says, walking over to stand next to me. “Gavin asked me to dinner.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”
Poppi glances over her shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “He sounds perfect. He opened this farm with his father and they’ve rescued over a hundred and fifty animals.”
