I hesitated, then shook my head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
I reached for the mower. She finally let go, sinking onto the porch steps with a relieved sigh.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Thank you, Ariel. You’re a lifesaver.”
I started the mower. My shoes squelched in the grass and I felt dizzy, nauseous, but I kept going.
Every so often, I caught Mrs. Higgins watching me with a strange, thoughtful expression.
Halfway through, my breath caught. I stopped, leaned on the handle, and wiped my face. Mrs. Higgins came over with a glass of lemonade, cold and beaded with sweat.
“Sit,” she ordered. “You’ll make yourself sick.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
I sat on her porch, drinking the lemonade too fast, my pulse still racing. Mrs. Higgins sat beside me. She didn’t speak at first—just patted my knee.
After a moment, she asked, “How much longer for you?”
I looked down. “Six weeks, if she lets me go that long.”
She smiled faintly, nostalgic. “I remember those days. My Walter, he was so nervous, he packed the hospital bag a month early.” Her hand trembled slightly as she sipped.
“He sounds like a good man.”
“Oh, he was, Ariel. It’s lonely, you know, when you lose the person who remembers your stories.” She went quiet, then looked at me. “Who’s in your corner, Ariel?”
“How much longer for you?”
I stared down the street, fighting tears. “Nobody… not anymore. My ex, Lee, left when I told him I was pregnant. And I got the call this morning, foreclosure. I don’t know what happens next.”
She studied me. “You’ve been doing this all by yourself.”
I gave a small, tired smile. “Looks that way. I’m stubborn, I guess.”
“Stubborn is just another word for strong,” Mrs. Higgins said. “But even strong women need a break sometimes.”
