“Nobody right now,” Ariel said. “The baby’s father left when I decided to keep her. And this morning the bank called. I’m losing the house.”
She hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It had just come out, the way things do when someone sits next to you with enough patience and enough quiet.
Mrs. Higgins was still for a moment. Then she put her hand over Ariel’s.
“Stubborn is just another word for strong,” she said. “But even strong women need someone in their corner.”
She Finished the Lawn and Went Home, Not Knowing It Was the Last Time She’d See Her Neighbor
It took another thirty minutes. The mower stalled one more time, and Ariel got it going again through sheer stubbornness. When she was done, the yard looked neat and even, the borders tight, the way Mrs. Higgins kept it.
The older woman squeezed her hand when Ariel handed the mower back.
“You’re a good person, Ariel. Don’t let the world convince you otherwise.” She looked at her for a long moment, with the particular kind of attention people give to things they’re trying to remember. “Rest now. Take care of yourself.”
Ariel walked back across the yard. She didn’t look back, just lifted a hand in a wave, feeling — for the first time all day — something close to okay.
She ate a bowl of cereal for dinner. She folded the laundry she’d abandoned that morning. She lay in bed with her hand on her belly and watched the ceiling fan turn slowly in the heat, and fell asleep before nine o’clock.
She didn’t know that next door, Mrs. Higgins had gone back inside, sat down at her writing desk, and started on a letter.
She didn’t know that before she went to sleep herself, her neighbor had walked to the mailbox at the end of Ariel’s driveway and tucked something inside.
She didn’t know any of that. She was just asleep, for the first time in months, without the particular weight of dread she’d been carrying.
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