Women don't always want the right things in a man. And men don't have even an idea of what they want," she said. "Why, one minute their bodies tell them they want a wild woman that makes their blood rush. The next minute their good sense reminds them that they need a hard worker who is sturdy enough to help plow the field and birth the babies. They want a woman who'll mind their word and not be giving no jawing. But they also want a gal they can complain to when they are scared and unsure and who's smart enough to talk clear about the things goin' on."
"So the wife has to be all those things?"
"No, the wife is none of them," the old woman answered. "The wife is a wife and no further definition is necessary." Granny leaned forward in her chair to look more closely at Meggie. "Roe Farley married you and you were his wife. Nothing further even need to be said."
Her face flushing with embarrassment, she glanced away. "But he doesn't... he didn't love me."
"And did you think he would?"
Momentarily Meggie was taken aback. "Well, yes."
"Lord Almighty, child," Granny said. "Love ain't something that heaven hands out like good teeth or keen eyesight. Love is something two people make together."
Shaking her head, the old woman leaned back in her chair once more and tapped on her pipe. "Love, oh, my, it starts out simple and scary with all that heavy breathing and in the bed sharing," she said. "You a-trembling when he runs his hands acrost your skin, him screaming out your name when he gets in the short rows. That's the easy part, Meggie. Every day thereafter it gets harder. The more you know him, the more he knows you, the longer you are a part of each other, the stronger the love is and the tougher it is to have it.
Tag: husband-and-wife
Love is rare enough in this life,
that when you come acrost it
you'd best grab ahold,
and hang on for dear life.
They stood up and the world was totally different. The wheat was an onyx sea, ever moving in shadow. Above it the heavens were illuminated with the wink of stars and planets, the Milky Way like a giant streak of glimmer slashing across the sky.
She was standing right next to him, awed by the beauty of the night sky and their tiny, tiny place in it. It seemed perfectly natural that he leaned down to gently press his lips to her temple. It wasn’t a kiss really, it was a consolation.
“Take my hand,” he said.
D.J. could see nothing as he unerringly led her through the darkened grain to the edge of the field.
Tag: moon scott wheat dj pamela-morsi love-overdue
Pru," he began lamely, "I think we need to talk about the past, to talk about what happened between us."
"Not today," she told him firmly.
"There are things that need to be said," he insisted.
"Perhaps so, but they have waited eight years, I don't think it’s essential that we delve into them immediately, just because it is suddenly convenient for you.
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