She would be the one to make ganja jokes while weeding the yard. Oh shit! I shoot up and give her a pleading look. “Oh god, please tell me you don’t have weed with you? I’m pretty sure it’s illegal here. You wouldn’t bring any around Hadley, right?”
“Um, obvs! I know you quit smoking and drinking the second you found out you were preggers. I wouldn’t do that anyway. My baby girl will always be my number one priority. You know that. Niecy always comes first.”
“Yeah, that was dumb of me.”
“No kidding. On the real though, we’ve got a lot to do. Why don’t you go grab the weed eater and start in the front of the house, while I work on these flower beds and then we’ll swap. When the weeding and edging is done, I can grab some clippers and work on all the trees while you mow the front. Then we can break for lunch, grab our little princess and Demi can mow the back. Cool?”
“Yep, that’s perfect! If the heat becomes too much, I put a cooler full of water bottles on the deck,” I tell her, nodding my head in the direction of the waters.
I walk over to the shed where I stashed all of the lawn equipment I bought a few days ago and grab the weed eater. Then I slip my headphones in my ears and walk down the pathway between mine and the neighbor’s house towards the front.
I think I was right about the properties having all been connected at some point. There are all kinds of little trails and pathways that connect the two and no one’s ever bothered putting a fence up in the hundred or so yards between the houses so the only indicator of whose property is who’s is the largest path that leads from the back properties to the front that I’m currently on.
I work quickly, trimming back the worst parts of overgrowth nearest the house and then move along the edges of the property that meet the old dirt road that doubles as a mile long driveway from the main road which leads to town. The yard is big enough that it’s a lot of work just to clean the edges of my property. The more I get done, the more I’d rather have a riding lawn mower for when the time comes to mow it.
As I look over it, I become more and more nervous that I’ll need to change my clothes and wear jeans to be safe thanks to how much overgrowth there is. It’s the logical thing to do, yet I’m standing here like a dumbass weighing my options on whether it’s the right or wrong thing to do.
On one hand, working that hard in the direct sun in jeans seems like a good way to make me pass out. On the other, there’s a good chance I’ll get cut up if anything goes flying out of my mower since I’m in high waisted denim shorts and an old Ramones t-shirt that I cut into a crop top, with some black chucks right now. There are only cons to my pros and cons list. Either my legs might get torn up or I die of heat exhaustion. Both options suck.
Ugh, I should’ve just spent the extra money on the rider and asked for some overtime to make up the cost. I’ve not depleted my savings or anything, my brain just won’t let me stop thinking that bad shit could go down and I’d need a healthy nest egg if it did. Whether it be the way I grew up or my more recent situation. I just can’t seem to feel content without something to fall back on.
Turning around to go back to working on the edging closest to the road, I notice a cop car head straight toward me and my heart stops beating for a solid three beats. My palms get sweaty and I feel like I’m going to throw up. My first thought is that Benji did something crazy like list Hadley and myself as missing persons or report us nationwide as a way of finding our location.
I don’t realize that I’ve been holding my breath for each agonizing second it took for the officer to pull up next to me, until he rolls his window down and it all whooshes out of me at once. The man looking back at me with a wide grin is literally breathtaking.
He’s model-like in his looks with sharp green eyes and long, wavy dark hair that falls down to his chin. His smile reveals two perfect dimples that could make a girl's knees feel weak. His uniform is tailored perfectly to his body, which is impressively noticeable considering he’s sitting down in his car.
“Good afternoon! I hope you don’t mind, but I saw you out here and thought I should introduce myself. It’s Aria, right?”
“Um, yeah. That’s me.” I offer a tight lipped smile and an awkward wave. My discomfort must be radiating from my pores because he starts rambling a little bit as if he’s nervous too.
“I’m Cooper, one of your new neighbors. Jace said we’d all get to meet at the end of the month, but it seemed like the universe presented us with an opportunity now, so I jumped at the chance to say hello,” he says, smiling once again. It doesn’t last long though because a little wrinkle forms in between his brows like he’s upset. “I should get out and say hello properly. Please excuse my manners,” he says, moving to remove his seatbelt like he’s going to get out of the car and I panic.
“No!” I shout, holding my free hand up in a stop motion and then visibly cringe. Hard. I can’t believe I just tried to boss a policeman around. “I mean—it’s just that you don’t have to do that. I’m not offended or anything. I probably also smell like hot garbage so I’m likely the most offensive thing out here. Your manners are fine…” I trail off, lowering my head in embarrassment at the words tumbling from my mouth. This man makes me nervous. But I guess that’s just my life now. All men make me nervous. Not many can make me stupid though. I’ll need to fix that around my new neighbors.
Cue my internal facepalm, because I just told my police officer next door neighbor that I stink. How embarrassing. What is it about these guys that turns me into a complete and utter moron?
It’s only when I hear his loud boisterous laughter that I lift my head back to meet his gaze, only for him to reassure me, “you’re not embarrassing and I’m sure you don’t stink. This heat can be oppressive on a good day and I can’t help but notice that you’ve made insane progress on this lawn.”
It's at that moment that I realize that I said everything out loud and I want to sink back into the long grass and become one with the earth below my feet.
“Oh my gosh, I’m not usually so ridiculous. I swear. I think the hot sun is starting to fry some brain cells or something,” I say, trying to rebound from my epic failure at being a normal human being.
“Nah, you’re funny. I like that. Jace said you were awesome and based on our introduction, I have to agree. You seem genuine and to be a hard worker—most people would’ve hired a landscaper for a job this big. I like that you’re not afraid to be yourself around new people, even after a long day of sweating your ass off in the hot sun. I got off work early today to start the long weekend before I head into some vacation time. I’d be happy to help out.”
“You really don’t have to do that. There’s not much—”
He cuts me off before I can finish my excuses, not that my brain was being helpful enough to provide many fast enough for it to matter. “I do though. The guys and I have a riding lawn mower and when I don’t drive the cruiser, I’ve got a truck we can load all the yard trimmings into. I can drop them off at the compost center on the outskirts of town in the morning and then help out with whatever else you need. We can get this place in tip top shape in no time,” he offers, only in my mind it comes off a little more like a command.
My brain is trying to rationalize that this man is offering to do something kind for his neighbor instead of forcing himself on me. The internal struggle I’m feeling is coming from a place of distrust and trauma. I know this. I understand this. I just can’t seem to make myself believe in it enough to accept the help that’s so kindly being offered. I feel like I’m two seconds away from hyperventilating as my mind flashes back to a moment in time with Benji about six months ago.
Why are you such a whore? You couldn’t bring the groceries out to the car yourself? Is it that you’re so incapable of pushing a grocery cart on your own or that you’re spreading your legs for the bag boy at the grocer so he feels obligated to help you run your errands? You’re so fucking lazy and useless. I should take our daughter and keep you away from her since you can’t even manage to do a grocery run without the help of some guy drooling all over your tits. It’s a wonder how you’ve even kept her alive this long. Fucking slut.
I snap out of it when I feel someone’s hand on my back as I’m crouched down with my head between my legs. Adrenaline courses through my body and I can’t stop shivering. I flinch away from Cooper's touch when I realize it’s him who’s rubbing soothing circles on my back whispering softly that everything’s going to be okay.
I fall back in my irrational attempt to break away from him at the same time Demi and Tate come running toward us screaming my name. I look up and see that Hadley is crying and reaching out for me yelling, “mama!”.
“What the fuck is going on? Who are you?” Tate yells at Cooper, clearly not giving a singular fuck that she’s verbally assaulting an officer of the law.
