Chapter 11: The Lawn Mower Man

The next morning my mother woke me early. She didn’t even give me time to sit up before she started rattling off instructions.

“The check for the landscaper is on the credenza, the electrician should be here at nine, and the exterminator promised to be here this morning as well. Let the exterminator know that the electrician is here just in case the power needs to be shut off.”

She paused in her ramblings. “Dharma, are you even listening?”

“Yes, Mom…,” I whined as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and began kicking my way out of the covers to display my displeasure.

“I’m not trying to be a pest, but today is a busy day, and I’m leaving you with a lot of responsibilities.”

“I think I can manage, Mom,” I replied in a kinder tone.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.” She placed a hand on my mattress so she could lean over and give me a peck on my forehead, but suddenly looked disgusted and withdrew her hand as if she had been burned. “Dharma, what is in your bed?”

Confused, I rustled through the pile of blankets and sheets until my hand touched upon something rough and unpleasant. I smiled wide as I displayed what I’d found. “It’s a straw doll.”

“It’s ugly,” my mother declared bluntly. “Why do you have it?”

I cradled the doll to my chest. “It’s supposed to promote sleep.”

She made a face. “Well, it works. For a moment there, I didn’t think I was going to be able to wake you.”

“Well, I’m wide awake now,” I said, throwing my legs over the side of the bed so I could stretch my calves before I stood. I leaned over so my mother could hug me and kiss my cheek.

“I should be home this afternoon,” she told me.

“I’ll be here,” I said. “You better get going if you don’t want to be late.”

“I would have been out the door already if you hadn’t been sleeping the morning away,” she complained as she blew me another kiss and disappeared from the room.

Once she was gone, I stumbled over to my dresser and selected a tank top and pair of shorts, then I quickly brushed my hair and tied it back before hurrying downstairs.

The second floor didn’t spook me so much during the daylight hours, but today I would be alone and had every intention of avoiding the upstairs.

I trotted down the stairs just as a figure appeared behind the distorted glass of the front door. I braced myself, prepared to run at the first sign of trouble, but then the doorbell rang. I nearly slapped myself for being so dramatic.

Then I froze when I remembered my last interaction with the landscaper.

I retrieved the envelope my mother had left on the credenza and paused momentarily, praying that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself again, then parted the door.

But when I saw his sun-kissed skin, his sandy curls, and those sparkling sapphire eyes, I was just as captivated as I had the first time.

I must have lingered for too long, because the landscaper scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and said, “Ma’am? I don’t know if you remember me. My name is Justin Jones. Mrs. Dupree hired me to do the landscaping.”

Stunned that he considered himself forgettable, I nodded as I pretended to stifle a yawn. “Sorry about that,” I apologized after I had drawn the yawn out long enough. “I had a late night.”

The young man’s face lit up, and when he smiled, my knees turned to jelly. I took precautions and steadied myself against the door frame just in case my legs failed to support me.

Afraid that I would make a fool of myself if I kept talking, I offered him the envelope.

He glanced down at it but didn’t make a move to take it. “You’re supposed to pay me after the job is done.”

“Of course,” I said, withdrawing my hand, feeling silly. “I’ll just let you get to work, then.”

“I’ll knock when I’m done so you can evaluate my work,” he promised.

“Thank you,” I replied curtly, moving to indicate that I meant to close the door.

He gave me a little wave, which I reciprocated quickly before I practically slammed the door shut and immediately sank to the floor, wishing the floorboards would turn into quicksand so I could disappear.

I had almost recovered when there was a sharp rap at the door.

“Oh, boy…,” I sighed, pulling myself onto my feet.

I braced myself, determined not to make a fool out of myself twice in one morning, and pulled open the door with more force than intended.

I did my best to look bothered, but to my surprise it was not a handsome young man; it was a burly middle-aged guy wearing a jersey that read Desanto’s Electric.

I must have looked very annoyed, because the man leaned back to confirm the address.

I hurried to unfurl my brow. “Pardon, I thought you were someone else,” I said, stepping aside. “My mother told me to expect you.”

“I am a bit early,” the electrician explained as he shuffled into the house. “My first appointment canceled, so I thought I would just come on over.”

“That was very thoughtful of you,” I said sweetly. Though I had intended to avoid the second floor, I didn’t see any way to avoid it. “Come along, I will show you the light that has been acting up.”

After I showed the electrician the pink room and explained the issue, I returned downstairs, anxious to brew a cup of coffee and get some breakfast. I had nearly reached the kitchen when the doorbell rang again.

Frustrated, I returned to the foyer to answer the door. The exterminator had arrived early as well, and to my relief, he wasn’t unbearably handsome, so I had no trouble escorting him to the attic.

Once I’d found the electrician so he and the exterminator could coordinate, I returned to the kitchen and finally got the cup of coffee I had been craving all morning.

I listened as the landscaper fired up the mower, cringing as I recalled our interaction. I picked up my phone and called Haylee. I had expected her to tease me, but she was sympathetic.

“Aww, I’m sure he gets that a lot. Especially if he’s as dreamy as you described.”

“I can only hope,” I whimpered.

“I bet he didn’t even notice,” Haylee affirmed. “Hey, I hate to cut our call short, but I am going to be late for work.”

“Love you, and give your parents a hug for me,” I ordered as we hung up.

An hour later the electrician hunted me down. “So, I think I figured out your problem. It appears as if mice have chewed through some of the wiring.”

“Is it that bad?” I inquired.

“I’ve seen worse,” he said with a shrug. “But I’ll have to return tomorrow with my supervisor, because we will have to pull some of the wiring.”

“I’ll let my mother know,” I told him, then I found the exterminator and told him what the electrician had discovered. After confirming we had no pets, he agreed to set out some rodent bait as well.

Shortly after, my mother called to check up on me.

“Well, the electrician will have to return tomorrow, because some mice have chewed through our wiring,” I informed her.

She sighed heavily. “I wonder how much that is going to cost.”

“He left an estimate, but the mice shouldn’t be a problem soon. The exterminator set out rodent bait and scheduled a return appointment.”

“Why?” my mother asked cautiously.

“He said he needs to do a second sweep, just in case there’s a widow nest.”

“Ewww!” she squealed.

“And he called the spider eggs ~hatchlings~,” I said. That wasn’t true, but it was a word that made her feel unpleasant, so I seized the opportunity to tease her with it.

She gasped. “He didn’t!”

“No, he didn’t,” I confessed, laughing as I visualized the expression on her face.

“That wasn’t nice,” she scolded me. “And what about the landscaper?”

“He was weed-eating the last time I glanced out the window,” I replied quickly, hoping she wouldn’t press me for more details.

“You haven’t been outside to check on him?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s a professional, Mom, I’m sure he doesn’t want any input from me.”

“I didn’t mean for you to give unsolicited advice,” she snapped. “He has been out in the hot sun for hours, and you haven’t even offered him a drink?”

“No, I guess I didn’t consider it,” I said, already making my way to the fridge.

“What he must think of us…”

“I’m sure it’s fine, Mom,” I said, pulling out a bottled water as well as a soda for him to choose from. “I’m running him out a drink now.”

“There is some money in the cookie jar. Make sure you tip him well.”

I ended the call, then rushed out to the back deck with a drink in each hand, but as I gazed across the yard, I couldn’t locate the landscaper.

I sat the sodas down on the table and made my way down the stairs in search of him, wondering if something had caused him to crawl under the massive foundation.

The space beneath the deck was empty, but from the lower vantage point, I did locate his Weed eater, which appeared to have been tossed aside. I thought to call out for him, but his name escaped me.

“Mr. Lawnmower Man?” I called weakly instead as I circled the deck.

When I received no answer, I unlatched the gate, intending on continuing my search, but that was when I noticed movement from the corner of my eye.

I paused and did a second take, and sure enough, the perfect silhouette of our landscaper passed by a window in the gardening shed.

The door to the shed was open as I approached, and though there was nothing suspicious about a landscaper being in a shed—which I assumed was their natural habitat—I did find it odd that he was rifling through the boxes in the corner.