Capturing You

Chapter 20: For Angel, My Angel

    I cooed, unable to hide my excitement for the news. "Really? Oh my gosh, off in the corner, right?"

    "Yes'm. Joe, you ever milked a cow before?"

    Joe chuckled. "No, can't say I ever have."

    "Today's your lucky day." Micah beckoned for him to come over and I followed suit. This felt strangely like the night we'd gone to the gala, except it was a completely different environment; the principle was the same, though. I was meeting people from Joe's world and here he was, meeting people from mine.

    Micah pulled out some stools for us and we each took hold of our own cow.

    "You might wanna watch Avery do it first before you get kicked in the face," Claire advised Joe, giggling.

    And so, I demonstrated how to milk a cow for Joe Burrow, the motion of it total muscle memory for me. Maybe it was a little less effortless than clicking the shutter button. I looked over at Joe, a wide grin on my face as I squeezed the milk into the bucket. "It'd probably help if you sweet talked her, too. You're good at that," I teased.

    I stopped to watch as a cautious Joe reached for the cow's udder, Hunter and Claire and I holding back our laughter.

Micah wore a concentrated expression as he encouraged him, "It's important to do more of a pull than a squeeze."

    Joe, who had begun to laugh and flush scarlet from embarrassment, did his best to listen to Micah's advice. "More of a pull than a squeeze, got it," he said. I hated thinking about it, but the situation was ripe with innuendos, and that's what made us all laugh.

    "Talk dirty to it!" Hunter suggested in between childish giggles. He earned a swat to the arm from Claire for that one.

    Eventually, after some coaxing and sweet-talking (Joe said things I would never repeat to the Bengals team...), Joe managed to get some milk out from Tracy the cow. He and I immediately shared a celebratory high-five, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't think to crash into him with a hug instead. "You did it!" I cheered, grinning.

    "We'll make a farmer boy outta you just yet," Micah told Joe, snickering. The oldest cousin hadn't joined in our immature hijinks, but Joe seemed to have gotten his approval, despite the words not being said. I pondered if Micah knew something the others didn't— could see the connection between Joe and I that for some reason, I thought better to conceal from everyone else. But if anyone were to find out first, I hoped it was Micah, for he always looked after me like an older brother I never had.

     We milked the cows for another twenty minutes or so in casual conversation with my cousins before Micah thought we'd done enough work to earn some time with the calf.

     Joe was the first to meet her — Baby Marcy — and he'd been so gentle, leveling with her despite his height. I watched as Micah directed him to reach his hand out first for a sniff before giving Baby Marcy a pat. Joe did as he was told and the calf practically melted into him like butter, quickly cuddling into his chest for a hug like a puppy.

     I couldn't hide my smile as I watched the whole thing unfold. I jogged out of the barn to quickly grab my camera from my bag near where we'd left our shoes, coming back just in time to snap a photo of Baby Marcy and Joe sharing a hug. Maybe this wasn't the glamorous beach vacation he deserved after going to the Super Bowl, but I hoped it measured up somehow.

-

    "Avery, you didn't mention your family owned a farm," Joe kicked off the conversation as we left the barn, headed for a walk around a path circling Thompson Lake hours later. We wouldn't get to the whole thing, I told him, but there was something at the halfway point that I wanted to show him; after that, we could turn back. He reached for my hand as we walked and his hand felt simultaneously frigid and like a furnace.