Tummy Rumblies

She didn't seem too happy to take the potatoes. Emmett chided himself internally: of course a nice town girl like this doesn't want lumpy taters. But Phoebe took them nonetheless and seemed very hung up on just how she was going to pay for them. "I don't know any pregnant ladies, no...but uh...hey. If I ever do get myself a lady and she needs you, I know where to come." "Aw, look..." He gathered up some more things in a basket behind the counter, the smallest or the ugliest of the produce. As much as Vi had blessed them with a good harvest this year, it sure wasn't a pretty one. "How's about this: You only owe me a big smile when you tell me all 'bout the stew you make. Or whatever it is." Truthfully he had only mentioned owing to take the pressure off of Phoebe, so he didn't have anything real to suggest. He looked her up and down as he tried to decide which onion was best suited to her. It was not at all something that should be a big decision, he knew, but he felt an intense need to impress. "I'd love to know your name too, Miss. If you wanna tell me. I'm Emmett." EMMETT You think that you're growing, but you're just tall