Page 7

“Hi.” My mind is still reeling with the fact that he’s my neighbor. And that he’s standing in front of me half naked.

“Did I wake you?” He trails over to me. He didn’t get much sleep after he left. The dark circles underneath his eyes are still there, and so is the sadness in his gaze.

“Yeah,” I say. He smiles sheepishly, tapping his hand on the wooden fence.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize the time. My old neighbor’s never minded it.”

“So you do it often then? Mowing your lawn at eight o’clock in the morning.”

He chuckles, wetting his lips. “Sometimes, but my old neighbors were an elderly couple. They had trouble with their hearing.”

“Ahh, and you always do it shirtless?”

“Is it bothering you? I can put a shirt on if it makes you uncomfortable.”

I wave a hand. “No—no. It’s your garden. You can do whatever you want. I was just curious.” He cocks his head, lips curling up.

“It’s hot out, and I hate it when my t-shirt sticks to my body.” His eyes roam my face. Then my arms. “Your sunburn looks better.”

My finger trails down my less sore arm. “Yeah, the aloe vera helped.”

“Good.”

He points at my garden, which is more of a jungle at the moment.

“Do you want me to mow yours too?”

I raise my eyebrows.

He wants to mow my lawn?

“You want to mow my lawn?”

He shrugs, leaning his arm close to mine. “I’m already at it anyway. It wouldn’t be a trouble.” The grass is overgrown, and as far as I know, I don’t have a lawn mower, so that would be a great help, but I’m confused why he would do that for me.

“You sure?”

He quirks a brow. “I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t Sunshine.” The nickname again. No one has called me a nickname before. Most people shorten my name. I don’t know if he calls me that because I was burning in the sun yesterday or for another reason, but it’s nice to have a nickname for once.

“Okay, thanks.” He smiles, tapping the wood as he walks backward towards his house. “I’ll be right there.”

I’m so confused. This is not how I envisioned my morning.

I turn on my feet, brushing my hair from my face, grab my door handle, and yell over my shoulder.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks!”

I shake my head in disbelief. I thought I might see Carson again, maybe in town but definitely not as my neighbor. But maybe it’s a good thing. I could use someone to talk to, and from the sadness in Carson’s eyes, he could use someone too.

I never had hobbies growing up. The people I lived with didn’t want to spend money on me, and as I grew up, I never knew what I liked. Most things cost money, and that was one of the things I didn’t have.

So I bought the two cheapest things I could find: paper and a pen. It started simple, but as the years went by, I became more and more advanced.

I started drawing portraits of myself. I would copy photos of things I had accomplished, like me at graduation, and would draw Micah in them, as if we were there together.

I won’t be able to take a photo with him again, but drawing him felt like he was here with me. I would post them online, and people would reach out to me, asking if I could do the same for them.