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While in Lovett one weekend, we were in the town fabric and quilting shop on the town square. The girls wanting to get some banner and decorative wall hanging ideas and were also looking at ribbons with the two shops ladies as they chatted about the approaching wedding date.When told the then proposed date, a young girl of about eight, the grand-daughter of the shop owner, shook her head at once and said, "Oh no, not the eighth. That's a bad day and won't do at all." She then seemed to fade out for a moment, her eyes became unfixed and then she said in a very confident tone of voice, "Make it the twenty-eighth instead. That's a much better day, you won't regret it."She then went back to coloring in her coloring book and paid us no further heed. As we left the shop, the girls finding some ribbons to use for decoration, the store owner, Sarah, followed the girls out and spoke with them privately for a moment until both nodded agreement and she returned inside. Later the women filled me. Today was the day. I wore my basic uniform, and let my hair down. Only I decided against wearing spandex and opted for a tiny white thong instead. All day I was shaking thinking about what I was going to do. I couldn't even eat at lunch. Finally it was 1:00 and I practically sprinted to his room. I honestly felt like I was going to explode from nervousness, and from being so damn turned on. I walked into his room like I did every day, and Mr. Jones didn't even bother to look up at me, apparently he was engrossed in his papers and expected that I would come. But today I didn't walk to the seat across from his desk. I walked to his side of the desk. He looked up at me surprised, and I took his hand and placed it on my heart. "Do you feel how fast it's beating?" I whispered. "Why?" He asked not moving his hand staring at me with a look of shock and something else. "I'm nervous." I mumbled, looking down at the crappy tile floor. "For what?" He asked dropping his hand, standing up sensing.
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