“So you can see why I’m desperate, yeah?” Gus asks.
“Yes, but I really don’t have time to supervise someone.”
“He knows how to work a mower.”
Well, now, this just got interesting. “Really?”
“It’s literally the only thing he can do. How about I drop him here for the afternoon and you see how it goes?”
“All right, why not?”
Without skipping a beat, Gus turns and slaps the seat to get his son’s attention. Colton jumps, then slides his left headphone slightly behind his ear. “What?”
“This is Abby, the widow I was telling you about. She wants to pay you to mow her lawn.”
Colton gives me a nod and says, “Hey.”
“Hi,” I answer.
Gus continues. “If you do a decent job this afternoon, she’ll keep you on for a few weeks. She’s got a ton of stuff to do around here.”
“What does it pay?”
Oh, for God’s sake.
Gus answers for me. “Ten bucks an hour.”
“That’s not even minimum wage,” he answers, wrinkling up his nose.
Lowering his voice, Gus says, “It’s all she can afford. She’s awidow.”
Seriously?I clear my throat to get Gus’s attention. “Yeah, this isn’t going to work.”
Colton looks at me again, his face softening. “Nah, it’s okay. I’ll do it.”
“Great,” I answer. A pity mow.
* * *
I leave Colton with a jerry can of gas and a box of garbage bags, then go inside to have a drink of water. When I walk through the front door, I’m greeted by the sound of a sander. Even though a sheet of plastic covers the closed door to my office, fumes of sawdust and wood stain fill my nostrils. Outside, the mower starts up, and although I’m glad to not be the one standing behind it, the reality of the next six months starts to sink in. It’s going to be noisy, dusty, dirty, and sweaty—just what every woman wants.
I busy myself shopping online for kitchen chairs but find nothing that ships here. When I go out to check on Colton, he seems to know what he’s doing. Fifteen bags of grass sit by the roadside now, and I smile a little at the fact that this place looks slightly less abandoned. I give Colton the ‘would you like some water’ gesture. He nods and shouts, “Yeah, please.”
Gus pulls up just as Colton finishes the front yard, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s been watching from the trees or something. He gets out of his pickup and inspects his son’s work. “So, Abby? Is he hired?”
I walk over to Gus. “Yup. He did well.”
He slips me three tens. I tuck them into the front pocket of my jeans, then, feeling foolish, turn to Colton and take the money out. “Thanks very much. Here you go.”
Colton pulls one headphone back, takes the money, and counts it. “Great, okay then,” he says with no enthusiasm whatsoever.
“You should thank her,” Gus says under his breath.
“Thanks.” He slides his headphone back into place and gets in the truck.
“Thank you, Abby,” Gus says with much more sincerity than his offspring. “We’ll be back tomorrow as soon as I drag his lazy ass out of bed.”
“He worked hard,” I answer, feeling a little sorry for Colton.
