After four rings, a male voice answered. "Shady Oaks, Chris speaking." "Christopher?" Lynn asked. "Mr. Chapman?" "Yes. Who is this, please?" Lynn's hand massaged her stomach, grabbing the skin in a small fist to squeeze and pull gently before releasing it. The pinching, pulling, squeezing motion settled her nerves and she didn't even realize she was doing it. "It's, hi, it's Lynn Hathaway? From Spiel & Fillhart-" "Yes, Ms. Hathaway, I remember. My answer is still no. And you've picked a bad time. I'm elbow-deep in oil trying to fix this old tractor." "No, that's not why I'm calling. I," Lynn paused. An image came to mind as she spoke. Christopher out on his farm. Blue skies above with a few clouds slowly passing under the sun. Cats play fighting with a wary eye for passing hawks and owls. Chickens pecking and scratching at what they thought was food. Wind rustling the oak trees lining the property. And the man sitting by himself, cursing and grunting as he pulled at the tractor's. I gave her lower leg a reassuring rub then pulled my hand away quickly when it came into contact with the fabric of her shorts just below the crotch.“Sorry,” I said.“Typical boy,” Liz replied, smiling at me. It was part of one of her songs but I had used up my only knowledge of the rest of the lyrics the day before. “I’m baring my soul and you want me to bare the rest.”“I wasn’t...” I protested.“I know,” Liz cut in. She changed positions until both of her knees were on the couch. She leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek. “I was just goofing around with you. I made peace with most of my decisions a few years ago. I know I screwed up my priorities. I know that I got too big for my britches. But I had so many people around me telling me just how great I was. I started to believe it.”“Been there, done that,” I said.“Got the T-shirt,” Liz added. “I wanted to give you a little bit of an explanation for why your friends might not look at things with overwhelming joy. I also don’t.
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