A few weeks ago he started mowing her lawn. He had no idea why. It grew tall and the edges got weedy. It was a Sunday. Her car wasn't in the driveway. “Fuck it!” He muttered. He was sweaty from cutting his own lawn. Grass clippings stuck to his hairy chest and legs and he couldn't get any dirtier he supposed. What's she going to do, call the cops and tell 'em her neighbor is doing her a favor?! It was technically trespassing, but if he finished before she got home, how could she prove it was him?
He did manage to finish before she got home, just in time to watch the sunset. He emptied his last beer of the night and went inside. Later that night, he saw headlights turn into her driveway.
The next morning, he found a note in his mailbox. “Thank you! -R” was all it said. Okay, he reasoned, next week I'll cut it again. She doesn't seem upset. He should go introduce himself. He had lived next to her for almost four years and still didn't know her name. She kept odd hours. When she left the house, he would mow her grass. First the front patch and then the back. He carefully trimmed around the flower bed and beside the porch. He did this for a few weeks until, one Saturday morning, there was a knock at his door. He looked through the curtains and saw her standing there, so he opened the door.
“Hi.”
“Hello, I'm Rachel.”
“Hi, Rachel. I'm the one who's been mowing your grass.”
“I know. I have one of those Ring doorbells, the ones with the camera.”
“Oh,” his face paled. “I was hoping you wouldn't mind. I wasn't sure why I did it, honestly. It was just getting tall, and I figured I already had the mower out, and I was already sweaty... When I got your note, I just kept doing it, since you hadn't told me to stop. You didn't seem upset.” He laughed nervously, trying to get a read on her.
“No, It's fine,” she laughed too. “My phone kept sending me pictures of you cutting the grass. It was kinda funny.”
“I tried to do it when you were away, I didn't want you to think I was trying to spy on you or something weird.”
“Oh, no! I got the camera because I asked my boyfriend to move out. We broke up months ago but he just kinda kept living with me. I found out he would come around after I went to work and take showers, watch TV, eat, etc. He's a whack job.” She made a twirling motion with her finger next to her head pantomiming crazy.
“Oh, I never saw him. I was probably at work too.” He thought briefly. He couldn't remember seeing a man there at all, really. He mustn't have gotten out much. Maybe he worked from home? Worked nights? He couldn't be sure. He had only ever seen her car come and go.
“He's an 'artist', but he spends most of his time playing video games and watching porn,” she said flatly. “And I spent most of my time paying his bills and cleaning up after him.” There was an awkward silence while they waited for the other to speak. Rachel broke in first. “I didn't catch your name.”
“I'm Hayden, Hayden Cross.” He put his hand out to her. She shook it gingerly. Her hands were soft and her skin smooth.
“Rachel Warren. Again, thank you for mowing my grass. I'm not sure I could do it; I'm working two jobs.”
“What do you do - if you don't mind my asking?” Hayden found himself admiring the highlights in her hair as she pushed it back from her face.
“I'm a teacher. 7th grade English.”
“I'm in sales,” Hayden volunteered. “I sell automotive parts and kits, oil, filters, and tires; you name it. We mostly sell to auto repair garages.”
Rachel nodded. “I wanted to give you this for your effort. You can put it toward the gas or something.”
She handed him a wad of dollar bills folded over. About twenty? He couldn't be sure. It would be rude to unfold it and count it in front of her. He wasn't going to take it anyway, so it didn't matter. He knew what this was. It was tip money. He had seen his mother pull a similar wad from her pockets many times when he was a kid.
“No,” he handed it back to her. “I can't take this from you.”
“I really need to give you something.” Rachel pushed the money toward him.
“It's okay, really. I know how hard you worked to get that.” He looked down and noticed the black pants and black faux-leather sneakers. He was now sure he would not take any money from her. “I'll keep doing what I'm doing, no strings attached.”
She looked at the money and then at him. She saw the resolve in his brown eyes and put the money back in her pocket. “Thank you.” She smiled.
“You're welcome.” He smiled back. He watched her walk back to her door and wave before she stepped inside. A few minutes later, he watched her through the window. She got in her car and left. He finished his coffee and looked at the grass. Both lawns could use a trim. He put his mug in the sink and went out to his front porch and sat watching the cars slowly roll past.
Hayden's mind wandered. So he's an artist who was living with his girlfriend and watching porn? Why?