17. Bliss
Bliss
The pantry is empty. How does someone end up with an empty pantry?
I guess by not grocery shopping.
We’ve been married a week. And technically, we’re home from our honeymoon and it’s safe to go out in public again.
“Zane!” I call as I walk out of the huge empty closet to the side of the kitchen.
“What?” He turns to look at me from where he’s reading the market reports on his laptop.
Glasses. He’s wearing glasses. Why didn’t I know he needed glasses? I snap my jaw closed because it wouldn’t be good to get caught drooling over my sexy husband.
“There’s no food in the pantry.”
His eyebrows shoot up at that. “Oh yeah. I forget to go grocery shopping sometimes. Don’t worry; I’ve got a freezer full of beef out in the garage.” He turns back to the computer as though he solved all our problems.
“We need more food than just beef.”
“I don’t see why,” he replies as he clicks around on the laptop and pulls up another market report.
“We can’t eat only beef. We need coffee too. We have to have a well-rounded diet.” I walk into the living room so that I can read over his shoulder. “Wait. Scroll down. I want to see what fat lambs sold for.”
He obliges me and scrolls down the page to where the sheep are listed. I have to lean closer to read the small type, which puts me close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.
“Would you like to borrow my glasses?” he teases.
“Very funny,” I mutter. “Four fifty? They sold for four dollars and fifty cents a pound? Good grief, I can’t afford to eat my own lamb.”
“You’re telling me. Beef prices are still holding steadily high too.”
“Hmm. Maybe we should just sell everything and retire,” I suggest.
He shakes his head. “We would be so bored.”
“You’re probably right. But at least we’d have time to do things, like go grocery shopping.” I turn my head to give him a pointed look. However, leaning over his shoulder to read the laptop screen puts my face very close to his.
Zane grins sheepishly. “Do you want to borrow my truck to drive into town?”
“Wait, you want me to do the grocery shopping?” I stand up abruptly.
“You’re the one who doesn’t want to eat the beef.”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to eat it. I’m saying we should have more than that.” I plant my hands on my hips and stare him down.
“And I’m guessing you don’t want to be the one to go to the store?”
“I don’t mind going, but I’m not going by myself. I have no idea what you like to eat. Besides, I don’t even know if you have any allergies or not.”
He sighs as though I were asking him to do something absolutely ridiculous instead of grocery shopping. “Fine. We’ll run into the market and grab some things.”
“My mom usually goes into Bend and shops there. I think we should do it too. We could get things at Costco.”
“I thought you had to be part of a special group to go to Costco.”
“Yeah, you have to buy a membership. That’s what married people do. They buy memberships to big grocery stores, then argue over what snacks to buy.”
Zane sighs. “We’re really going to go grocery shopping today, aren’t we?”
I smile brightly at him. “Yes.”
He sets the laptop on the cushion next to him and stands. He reaches his arms up, stretching and yawning. “I guess we should have some food around to eat.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Which rig should we take?”
“My 4Runner.”
“You have another car? Why did I not know this? I thought we were debating between both of our pickups.”
“Do I have to change?”
I glance at his clothes. “Why would you have to change?”
“I’m wearing work pants.”
I bend down to get a closer look at his jeans. “Nah, you’re fine. Those are old stains, not fresh cow crap.”
Zane gives me an eye roll. “Jeez, thanks.”
Ten minutes later, we’re sitting in his 4Runner and pulling down the driveway.
“You actually keep this car clean,” I comment.
Zane gives me a sideways glance and says, “Don’t look in the back.”
“That bad, huh?”
He nods twice.
“I guess we’ll have to put the groceries in the back seat.”
“It’s the only place they’ll fit. Trust me.”
“There’s a cow on the driveway.” I lean my elbow on the door.
Maybe she’s allowed to roam here. There’s a cattle guard at the road, so she’ll be stuck on the ranch at least.
Zane whips his head around to look at the cow stepping off the driveway to hide behind a small group of trees. “That witch,” he grinds out.
He mutters a curse quietly, but I still hear it.
“What’s wrong? It’s not like she can get out, out, right?”
Zane puts the car in park and takes off his sunglasses. “She has a calf, and she’s constantly leaving it behind. She got out of the pasture somehow. I’ll have to put her back in.”
“Want me to help?”
Zane glances behind us. “Yeah, can you back up and open the gate? We’ll turn her in right there. I’ll try to walk her down to you.”
With that, he climbs out and jogs down the edge of the driveway toward the cow.
I climb into the driver’s seat and back up thirty feet to the gate. I jump out and swing it open wide, using a large rock from the driveway to prop it open when it tries to swing closed again.
When I turn to check on Zane’s progress, I see that he’s waving his baseball cap at the cow. She seems unimpressed. She paws her hoof at him. He’s trying to shoo her my way, but I can see she’s having none of it.
I hear a soft bawl from the grass, and so does the mama cow. It makes her angry enough to storm toward Zane. Soon, they’re running in and out of the trees, but it’s the cow doing the herding.
“Do you need help?” I call.
“No, I got it!” he yells back as he runs around the tree again, the cow hot on his heels.
He does not have it. That cow wants to make a grease spot out of him, bless his heart.
Another bawl from the grass has the mama calling back.
Sheesh. I’m torn between being helpful and pulling out my phone to record Zane’s merry-go-round dance with the cow.
I opt for both. I pull out my phone and take a video of them running in circles as I walk into the field.
I find her calf ten feet down the fence line, bedded down.
He looks like he was just born in the last couple of days; he’s so fresh.
I pocket my phone and bend down to lift him. He bawls loudly as I scoop him into my arms and carry him to the gate. He’s a healthy calf, but probably no more than seventy-five pounds right now.
“You’re just a cutie, aren’t you?” I tell him.
He promptly poops all over my arm as a thank-you for the compliment.
“Ugh.” I feel the warm splatter all down my side, all the way down to my shoe. “Thanks for that, little buddy.” I set him down next to the gate and hurry to the other side of the 4Runner.
He bawls loudly this time, catching his mother’s attention. She stops chasing Zane and looks at her baby standing in the open gateway. She runs toward him, calling loudly for him, sticking her tongue out each time she does.
The cow stops to sniff him, moos one more time, and then walks calmly into the field with the calf tottering behind her.
I roll my gate-holding rock out of the way and swing it closed. Grasping the chain, I double-check to make sure it’s latched when Zane stops next to me, breathing hard.
“I would have had it eventually, but thank you.”
“Yes, I saw that you had it all under control,” I reply dryly. “By the way, the gate wasn’t latched. She probably just waltzed on out of here.”
“That sounds about right,” Zane admits.
He looks at me then, staring at the smear of poop all down my side. “You know, Bliss, I don’t think that’s an old stain.”
The teasing glint in his eye holds a challenge.
“That’s all right. I’ll run back up to the house and get changed. I’ll be able to text the video I took to Max while I’m there.”
“Video? What video?” Zane asks.
“One of you running around the tree with the cow chasing after you.” I grin and walk back to the car, careful to sit more on my left side so none of the poo on my right side touches anything.
Zane climbs into the driver’s seat and points a finger at me. “No texting Max the video.”
“We’ll see about that.”
“What’s there to see about?”
“If you’re helpful today at the store.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You don’t play fair, Bliss.”
“I never claimed I did,” I reply smugly.
Turns out, Zane can be very helpful with grocery shopping with the proper motivation.
After I got cleaned up, we made the drive into town, and he didn’t complain one bit about all the food we bought. In fact, he’s the one who paid for all of it and pushed the heavy flat cart for me. He did ask me very sweetly if I was going to delete that video.
I will definitely be keeping that for a future date.