The Grass between the Cow Shed and the House

In the Kitchen

I walk into the Kitchen where there's not a soul in sight. Mrs. Wilson must be outside in the garden. I grab a mug out of the cupboard closest to the sink and prepare to take a drink from the sink facet. I hear some cluttering sounds from the garage and turn around from the sink. Maybe its Ben coming back from feeding the pigs.

Not a second later the door to the garage barges open and in from the hall entering the kitchen appears a 6 foot something tall 19-year-old guy that most likely goes by the name Joe. He walks halfway into kitchen where I stand at the kitchen sink. He has short, light brown hair that almost looks blond from all the exposure to the sun. He has a very well sculpted face with prominent cheek bones and pointed nose. His baby blue eyes look like oases amongst his smooth tanned face. ...He's Gorgeous.

He stops in his tracks and just stares at me for a second. It was just a second but it felt like a half an hour. He's wearing a red plaid, collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and jeans over his boots. He's holding a familiar metal bucket commonly used to feed the pigs. I stand at the sink grasping my mug between my two hands, resting the rim on my chest as if it's hug will protect me from whatever unknown interaction I'm having. I stand, blank staring for a second before my social skills kick in.

 I crack a sociable complexion and begin to introduce myself. "Hello I'm Warren!" I set the mug down and walk closer to him so that we're not talking across the room. I put my hand out for a handshake and he courteously obliges. 

"Uh hey I'm Joe! I saw Mrs. Wilson's car drive up and thought you'd be with them."

 I respond "Yep! the car ride was great. I love how Mrs. Wilson always has snacks! Jan and I just stuffed our faces with dried mango half the time! I see you have the pig pale! How are Larry, Gary, and Grey doing?"

"Oh!" He responds a little anxiously. "Larry, Gary, and Grey are gone now. They got butchered a few months ago. Now there are Fee, Fi, Fo, and Fum." 

"Awww" I respond, fully knowing that was their purpose from the get go. " They will be missed dearly, even if Gary tried to bite me many a time. But who keeps naming these poor pigs!?" I ask laughing, though I'm sure I know the answer to the question.

"It was Jan and Ben's idea of course!" He banters back. "They come up with the most clever names! I don't know how they do it!" 

"Yep, no one beats those two at the naming game. they are seasoned professionals! They are a very gifted, talented family!" I say.

"Oh! I saw your painting of the barn in the yellow bathroom. Your are a very talented artist!" He comments.

"Ah yes, thank you! I try!" I respond timidly. The painting he is talking about is one I painted last year from the deck. No gonna lie I was kinda impressed myself when I painted it. Inspiration took hold and did it's thing.

 "Well, I'm looking for Mrs. Wilson. Do you know where she is?" I ask.

"Oh she's out in the car still. She's on a phone call." he responds.

"I see, thank you. Then that's my destination." I say as I walk past him and make my way to the front door. When I'm halfway through the living room I get a little self-conscious and think I should end the conversation better so I look back and say " Nice talking to you Joe!" 

"You too!" He responds and picks up the bucket and walks towards the sink. He is probably filling it up with water to add the dry pig food. When it gets soaked up it makes a soft,mushy substance. 

When I walk out the door and hear the screen door shut behind I remember that I left my mug at the kitchen counter. Well, I'm thirsty so I might as well get my drink. I jog lightly back inside and into the kitchen where Joe is still standing there waiting for the bucket to fill. When he sees me jogging back I point at my cup and say "forgot my water" 

He responds "Oh I got it!" and reaches for it. "Oh no, that's okay you don-" but he has already grabbed the mug and is filling it up. The Wilson's water comes from a well so it's very clean. He finishes says "Here you go!" and hands it to me. I accept and take it from his hands. His fingers are rough and scabby from the farm, which is probably what mine are gonna look like in a couple weeks. When I lift up to take a drink he is looking at me.

"You want ice?" he asks  anxiously, as if I'm gonna punch him if I dont like it.(I'd never do that)

"Oh no its perfect, thank you" I reply as I rush towards the front door again. Outside to the car I go.