By noon, I was a sweaty, bedraggled mess, but I hardly cared. I kept on working, fueled only by bottled water and raw determination.
By late afternoon, the property was looking a whole lot better – or so I thought, until I was rudely informed otherwise.
Chapter 9
Arden
I was in the final stages of mowing the front yard when a big, white SUV pulled into my grandparent's driveway.
At the sight of it, I stopped mowing, but didn't cut the mower's engine.
Bright sunlight reflected off the vehicle's windows, making it impossible for me to see who was driving.
Was it Brody?
Ithadto be. After all, I hadn't seen him all day, in spite of his claim – or should I saythreat– that we'd be talking.
For a long moment, nothing happened. But then, the passenger's side door flew open, and a sleek blonde in a tailored cream-colored business suit slammed out of the vehicle and began stalking toward me, in high heels no less.
She looked like she wanted to kill someone – me in particular.
With growing unease, I turned off the mower.
I waited in confused silence as she stalked ever closer – using the front walkway and avoiding the grass entirely. I knew why, too. It was because of her cream-colored shoes. I was no fashion expert, but they lookedverypricey, just like the rest of her.
Without breaking stride, she hollered out, "Just what the hell are you doing?"
I glanced around. The way she was acting, you'd almost think she'd caught me crapping on the front steps.
I replied, "I'm, um, mowing actually."
She stopped on the edge of the walkway, leaving a good fifteen feet between us. Through gritted teeth, she said, "Iknowyou're mowing. WhatIwant to know is why."
I had no idea who she was or why she was flipping out. Still, I could tell by her clothing that shewasn'tfrom around here. She looked too polished, too slick, and way too expensive for Bayside, Michigan.
I couldn’t resist saying, "If you knew what I was doing, why'd you ask?"
Ignoring my question, she extended her arm and pointed an elegant finger vaguely toward the mower. "And where did you getthat?"
She said "that" like it was a picture of her mother, naked with a goat.
I wanted to tell her that it was none of her business. But the sad truth was, this wasn't my family's home, not anymore. And for all I knew, she was Brody's girlfriend or something.
Normally, I wouldn't carewhoshe was. But Brody was doing me a favor, a big one, too. And in spite of our longstanding grudges, I wasn't going to take his help for granted.
So I sucked it up and tried to smile as I said, "If you mean the lawn mower, I found it in the garage across the street."
She looked at me like I'd just confessed to grand-theft-mower. Her lipstick was very red, and her mouth twisted as she gritted out, "In the crew house?"
I shook my head. "Crew house? What do you mean?"
Again, she didn't answer. Instead, she looked toward my grandparent's front porch and literally gasped. "Oh, my God. The shrubs – what happened to them?"
I turned to look.Wasn't it obvious?This morning, I'd spent nearly two hours trimming them. And hey, I wasn't a professional landscaper or anything, but evenIknew that they looked a whole lot nicer than they had just yesterday.
"I trimmed them," I explained. "And you've got to admit, theydolook better." Or at least,Ithought they looked better.What on Earth was I missing?
She whirled to face me. Her nostrils, narrow as they were, literally flared as she said, "Iknowthey look better." Her voice rose to a new crescendo. "What thehellwere you thinking?"
