The Price of Trust (33 page)

“It could be the guy we’re renting from.” Quickly, she tucked a few stray hairs behind her ears and dusted off her jeans, trying to look presentable to whoever it was. As it neared the house, the truck turned off the driveway to park in the long grass right in front of their door.

A bent over old man in greasy overalls managed to get out and limp up the steps, chewing on a weed. He spat it out and knocked before he entered the room, uninvited. Alarmed, Becky stood with her hands on her hips, ready to push the fragile looking man out the door if necessary.

“Howdy,” he drawled, eyeing her and the two kids. “Name’s Pickles.” He stuck out a grubby, calloused hand her way, obviously intending to shake.

Becky took his hand and gave it a light squeeze and a gentle shake, afraid she would hurt him. “You’re the landlord?” She asked, looking over his shoulder at her open-mouthed kids.

He ran his hands up and down his overalls straps, amused. “Yup,” he said, glancing around at all the boxes. “This all ya got?”

“Yup,” Jeff mimicked humorously before Becky could answer. She shot him a warning look, her scowl deepening as he shrugged his shoulders and smiled like a Cheshire cat.

“That’s my kind of boy,” the old man grinned, scratching his bald head. “Ya got a year lease and yer rent is due the first of the month,” he said, getting right to the point. “I live right down the road to the left if ya be needin’ anything, just give me a holler. Glad ya made it,” he stuck his hand out again. 

Liking his simple, country ways, Becky found herself pumping his hand up and down a little more enthusiastically this time. “There is one thing we need, if you wouldn’t mind. I don’t have a lawnmower.” She hinted with raised eyebrows as she walked him out to the porch.

A look of pure astonishment passed across his weathered features as he scratched his head again. He thought a moment before answering. “Well ya ain’t got to worry about the grass. It’ll die in a few weeks.”

Becky followed him to his truck, not quite ready to give up. “You don’t have one? We’d really like to cut the grass.”

Jen snorted, close at her mother’s heels. She hated being left out of conversations. “Yeah, we can’t find Jeff if he steps off the path.” Becky nudged her in the ribs, making her squeak. 

“Sure I got one,” he said, climbing into his truck. “Bye.” He waved as he put the old truck in gear and drove off, another long weed clutched between his teeth.

Stunned, they watched him leave, a trail of dust clouds hanging in the air. “I think that means he’ll bring it tomorrow,” Jeff said after a moment, joining them on the porch. Amused, they burst into laughter at their neighbor’s odd ways.

Becky ran a hand over her face, her eyes twinkling merrily. “Who’s hungry?”

Always anxious to eat, Jeff gave a loud whoop as he jumped in the air. “I’m starving! What’re we going to have?”

She shrugged, looking from one happy child to the other. “I thought we’d just go out for something tonight, what do you think?” Grinning at their exuberant ‘yes’, she clapped Jeff on his shoulder and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go!”

***

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