Speaking of jobs – I need for you folks to talk to Quentin when you’re home.  He’s got it in his head that we could have sex again if “I would just help him. . . ”

I told him a few weeks ago that wasn’t going to happen.  The next day he asked me to call Avis.  I didn’t.  He asked the next day, and the next and the next.  Finally, it was all he could talk about, so I called her. Avis and her husband drove to McPherson for lunch.  (I didn’t tell them why Quentin wanted to see her.)

We met at the restaurant. She came in with her oxygen bottle strapped to her walker.  She was very frail, and her husband was helping her.  He is obviously her caretaker.  We had a nice visit, and I thought after seeing her physical condition that Quentin would let it go.  But when we got in the car to drive back to the farm, I said, “Well, what do you think about Avis now?” And he said, “I think she wants me!”

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I just shook my head and said we needed to hurry back to the farm before he wet his pants. He’s been obsessing about her ever since.