The lawn mower chugged then jerked out of my grasp, taking off across the yard once more, heading straight for Fredrick’s line of shrubs. He still held on, letting the mower drag him behind. I sprinted after him, trying to not step on his legs. It wasn't easy to do—he was flailing like a fish.
Stretching forward, I caught the handle of the mower, stopping it right before it reached Fredrick's boxwood shrubs.
"How do I turn this thing off?" I yelled.
Something ran past me on the right. Nola.
She leaned down over the engine and flipped a switch that killed the motor.
"I could have had it." Fredrick wailed.
Nola stood up and planted her hands on her hips. "Fredrick, get up. You wouldn't have had it."
I knelt down and lent Fredrick my hand to help him stand up again.
"Don't you know better than to turn on the throttle? Someone's obviously done some work to this mower. This isn't the original motor."
Fredrick brushed some grass from his corduroy pants then walked around to inspect the mower. "Would you look at that? Well, you're all right, girl. Now why do you think someone would soup up this mower?"
Nola rolled her eyes. "Someone I know likes everything big and fast."
I knew she was talking about the man who owned the house, so I mumbled under my breath, "Sometimes slow is better."
Nola elbowed me in the ribs, and I grinned when I saw the blush in her cheeks. "Like I was saying, Fredrick, you shouldn't be mowing our yard. That's Bane's job! Besides, I want to see if he can keep up with this mower for a while. What do you think? Should we go sit on the porch and drink some lemonade while we critique his mowing skills?"
Fredrick nodded, extended his arm to her, and she led him up to the porch, leaving me alone with the demon mower.
I glanced across the street to see Carol sitting on her porch, sunhat in hand, waving excitedly at me with her phone.
"Got it on video, Bane! Don't worry, I'll share it with you!"
"Thanks." For nothing.
I turned around and flipped the switch on the mower before grabbing the handle to the string and pulling it. Just like Fredrick had done.
The mower started right up. I slowly pulled the lever up and began mowing my first yard.
When I finally parked the mower in the garage, I was the mowing master. There was no doubt in my mind that I could handle any lawn I was forced to face. I was sore in places that the gym couldn’t get to, but it felt good. The strong smell of cut grass permanently etched into my being.
Nola sat on the porch swing next to Fredrick, who looked the happiest I had ever seen him. Nola was laughing and smiling at something he said, but by the time I made it to the top step of the front porch, he was standing and hobbling his way past me.
"Far past time that I went home and watched my shows. I’ll leave you young people be." His voice was as grumpy as usual, but there was a sparkle in his eye. He didn’t seem to be any worse for the wear after the lawn mower dragged him around the yard.
I sat down next to Nola on the porch swing. It swung lightly back and forth as it adjusted to the new weight.
"Would you like some lemonade?" Nola asked as she leaned forward to pour me a glass. She picked up the pitcher from the small table next to the porch swing. As she leaned forward, the swing shifted backward. I braced my legs and waited to see if this would end in lemonade disaster.
It didn’t.
She smoothly poured a glass, returned the pitcher, then tucked her legs beneath her as she passed me the glass.
"I’ve decided I like Fredrick," Nola declared.
I couldn’t answer her because I was busy draining the ice-cold lemonade. It was giving me an ice-cream headache, but it was worth it.
"Thank you for mowing the yard," she added.
"No problem. There’s a first time for everything."
"Wait, what does that mean?"
I shrugged. "You know, I’ve never mowed a yard before today."
"What?" Nola leaned forward with an incredulous look on her face. The swing moved faster beneath her quick movements.
"I spent most of my life growing up in an apartment. There was never a yard to mow." My jaw hurt when I clenched my teeth together.
"That’s just sad," she said, shaking her head. She slapped a hand against her mouth. "Oops, I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt your feelings."
I laughed dryly. "Don’t worry about it, because you’re right. It was sad. It’s a little embarrassing to admit how much I’ve loved having flower beds to pull weeds out of. And getting to mow a lawn today felt like an adventure ride at Disneyland."
"Well, with that mower and Fredrick involved, it’s no wonder." She grinned. "Did your parents like city life better?"
"No. An apartment was all they could afford. They didn’t know how to handle money."
Nola stared at me, blinking slowly. "I think I understand now."
I studied her eyes. Those mesmerizing eyes that pulled me in, and I knew she did understand. She saw me. She understood my strange relationship with money. I think she was far more observant than she gave herself credit for.
"Would it help to talk about it?" She asked softly as she laid her hand on top of mine.
I grunted noncommittally, but in the same breath began speaking. "My parents were spenders. They both liked to spend money. They had decent jobs, but whatever money they earned, they spent. And then some. I don’t want you to think I don’t love them—I do. And my parents love me. I know that. But money has a way of bringing out the ugly in people. And my parents got ugly with each other over money. Yelling and screaming because the other one had maxed out the credit cards."
Nola’s hand
