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“Just watch for snakes in the tall stuff.”
The heat is forgotten as I jog over to them, breathing in the sweet scent. After I pluck out enough to fill the vase in mybedroom, I look up to see Arlow returning the hose to the trailer, his back toward me. He turns to see me watching him, and a shy smile blooms on his face, making me realize Silver might be right.
Neighbor or not, maybe I am interested.
CHAPTER 8
ARLOW
The heatand humidity have taken a few days off and it’s a good opportunity to get some outdoor work finished, no matter how much I want to be in the barn. That can wait until the overnight hours. Right now, the grass needs to be cut.
Calli’s driveway is empty, or I’d offer to mow hers as well. I’m not sure if she plans to do it or if that’s her landlord’s responsibility. I wouldn’t mind doing it. It’s an easy, enjoyable job with my riding mower. My shirt gets stripped off and hung over the back of the seat before I tuck my noise canceling earbuds into my ears, turn on some music and get started.
It’s easy to get lost in my head while the mower rumbles beneath me. I’m not sure what I expected when I invited Calli to go with me to the hives, but her reaction gave me a peek at who she is. She’s cautious, but not afraid to try new things. Hell, even with a suit, I couldn’t get Lee out there for weeks. What I loved seeing the most was her compassion. She was so worried about harming one of them accidentally. Some creatures are easy to love. The songbirds and fluffy rabbits of the world get the bulk of consideration, and to see her sympathy for an insect most would run away from says a lot about her. She’s as sweet as her face.
There’s something about her that affects me in the best way possible. From the first moment I saw her in that creek, there was a shift inside me, and whatever was blocking my creativity broke free. She’s inspiring.
After cutting my yard, I cross the gravel to mow hers, then finish up with the weed eater and head inside to shower the sweaty grass off me. My only remaining plan for the evening is to draw, but a tap on my door right after dark changes that.
“Hi,” Calli says, fidgeting with her hands. “I just wanted to say thanks for cutting my grass. I know it was getting too high. Um…I was going to hire someone or buy a mower. Anyway, can I give you some money?”
“No, it was no problem.”
She blinks, her tongue wetting her lips. “Did you used to cut it for the last residents? Because Silver said it was my responsibility.”
It never even occurred to me to do it before. That cabin and whoever lived in it may as well have been invisible before she moved in. “I didn’t. I think they had a service come out or hired a high school kid.”
“Oh, you have to let me pay you then.”
Leaning against the doorway, I stare down at her. “Well, I have been known to do yardwork for cobbler.”
Her lips tilt up. “That’s a pretty strange thing to be known for.”
“It could be worse. You don’t want to know what I’d do for pie.”
“Now I kind of do want to know.” She pauses and holds up a joint. “Are you busy?”
Not anymore. “Not at all. Do you want to come in? Or we can go to the firepit.”
“It’s nice tonight. I’m up for stoned stargazing if you are.”
I grab us both a drink and we start across the yard. Her eyes scan the darkened graveyard as we wind our way through the graves. “Just run in a zigzag if they come back to life. It’s well known that zombies can only shuffle in a straight line.”
She rolls her eyes, glancing up at me. “Have I told you that you’re hilarious?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Good.” Flicking her lighter, she fires up the joint and hands it to me. “What about ghosts? Do you think your zigzag theory holds up for them?”
Amusement rings in her voice and I’m glad to see she isn’t nervous to be here like she was before. “Probably not.”
“We’d need one of those little handheld vacuum cleaners to suck them up. That’d be my chosen weapon.”
“You’ve clearly thought this through. Do you believe in ghosts?”
“No, I don’t believe in anything supernatural, really. What makes it eerie to me isn’t the bodies or supernatural myths, it’s the fear of seeing a person. A graveyard at night isn’t scary. What someone might be doing in one is scary.” She grins over at me. “I watch too many true crime shows.” We climb the hill, passing the joint back and forth. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“No, I’m not superstitious either.”
