Instead of introducing himself, he looked past me at the house. His eyes moved slowly from the porch to the upstairs windows before settling on the detached garage in the backyard. He stared at it longer than anything else, and for just a second, a strange little smile crossed his face.
“Good.”
I frowned.
“Good?”
“I was hoping somebody would finally move in.”
“What do you mean?”
He seemed embarrassed.
“Nothing. Empty houses just make me sad sometimes.”
Then he nudged the mower with his shoe.
“Anyway, I’m Chase. I live with my mom over at Cedar Creek Trailer Park. I’m trying to make some money before school starts. Need your lawn done?”
“How much?”
“Twenty-five dollars.”
That was less than half what a landscaping company would’ve charged.
“I’ll give you fifty if you do a good job.”
His eyes widened.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
He grinned and immediately got to work.
For the next hour, I unpacked while the steady sound of the mower drifted through the windows. Every time I checked outside, Chase was still working—no phone, no earbuds, no disappearing for twenty-minute breaks. By the time he finished, my yard looked completely different.
I handed him fifty dollars.
“You don’t have to pay me this much. I said twenty-five.”
“And I said fifty.”
He stared at the bills for a moment.
“Thank you.”
As he pushed his mower away, something bothered me.
His face looked familiar.
