Not A Relationship

Damion

“I want to have pigs and chickens,” he announced. “I’ll help.”

I laughed. “Let’s get through this learning curve before we get too many animals. Animals are hard to take care of, especially in the winter. I’m not sure we’re cut out for that. It’s so much easier to buy food at the grocery store.”

“I am. I’m a farmer. I can do it.”

His declaration was cute, and I was happy he was enthused, but I was still not one hundred percent convinced I was a farmer. I had gotten a little soft over the years. Soft, as in I liked the convenience of having food delivered when I was too tired to shop. Life in New York was a lot easier, if not a lot noisier. Both places had their good points and bad. I had told myself I had six months to make a final decision. Six months to weigh the pros and cons and come up with a plan for the rest of my life.

“Finish up,” I told him, getting up and emptying out my coffee.

“Is Alex coming today?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” I told him.

“Is she coming tomorrow