The sunrise blinded Daniel as he buttoned his shirt and looked across at Melanie’s farm from his bedroom window. He could see her red pickup parked in the melon field as Dave’s old truck arrived. Though they were far from him, he saw Melanie stand up from picking the melons when Dave got out. Daniel could almost make out her bobbing ponytail as she answered Dave’s call.
Daniel bit his bottom lip. He still had no idea how to get her to go out with him. He released a futile sigh and turned to his small office. He scowled at his unfinished report, shook his head and mumbled, “How do we stop those damn smugglers?”
For today’s drive to market, Melanie picked melons from a row of ripe, succulent fruit as sunbeams broke over the horizon. With her crate filled, she struggled to lift it into her Toyota’s cargo bed, then returned with an empty crate for more sweet smelling, dew-covered fruit. She paused a moment to bask in the rising sunshine, breathed deep and filled her senses with the odors of damp earth and ripened fruit.
Her thoughts wandered to the broad shoulders she saw yesterday. She remembered how she focused her attention on Daniel as he loaded crates of corn on his truck with the Nigerians. She visualized the tight, flexing, bulging muscles of his chest beneath his shirt’s thin material while he lowered cabbage crates into his truck.
A warm glow grew as she remembered how his muscles had rippled when he lifted the heavy boxes. When he turned away from her, his khaki shirt followed the lines from his shoulders to his trim waist. His back formed a perfect triangle tapering to his tight jeans.
As she dropped another melon in the crate, her thoughts lingered on his bulging arms that seemed to have a soft touch as he unbuttoned his shirt to let air cool his glistening abs.
Melanie knelt in the field to reach the next melon and fell deep into her thoughts as she ran her fingers over the melon in her hand. Distracted by her strong emotions, the melon she held fell and missed the crate. The dull thud it made as it hit the ground jolted her back to reality. She balanced herself against the crate and gasped for a breath of cool air.
Dave yelled again and finally caught her attention, "Melanie, if you dawdle any longer, the market will close by the time you get there."
Melanie buttoned her blouse and scolded herself because she hadn’t noticed Dave as he drove up. She tossed the wayward melon into the crate, stood and turned, “Don’t worry. I just finished filling the last box.”
The last visions of Melanie’s daydream faded, but their warm afterglow left a crooked smile on her lips as she followed Dave to his truck.
She glanced nervously back at Daniel’s house and made a silent wish. “If only he’d ask me,” she thought.
Gregg Mattson (USA)
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