✔️The Greaser and the Skirtchaser [18+]

41. Cannolis Only Found in Northfield

Because he couldn't just worry himself sick about Vance's visit, Blake had just been doing yard work all morning. It wasn't the jungle it used to be back when his old man was still around because someone already went through and cut it for him—probably right after the body was discovered. Still, it needed trimming, so he looked in the shed to see if the old, rusted lawnmower that Blake used to use was still there, but he found a new one there. Not new, per say. It was someone else's that was left here. It was all so strange.

He was about halfway through his backyard lawn and was struggling to make the damn machine turn until he saw Vance standing in his open back gate, watching him. It scared Blake half to death.

Blake fumbled to turn the thing off. "You—I didn't... how long have you been here?"

"I called you a couple times, but I know the thing is loud." There was this smile on Vance's face. It was noon, so it was just warm enough for Vance to take off his leather jacket and hang it over his arm.

Blake suddenly realized that Vance was bigger than he remembered. Arms, shoulders, and... chest. Blake looked away. He couldn't believe he was checking Vance out. It was hard not to when he looked like that. Mature. Older.

And here Blake was sweaty and worn out from mowing a goddamn lawn. He was even wearing his old jeans and a damp shirt. "Uh... sorry. I knew you were coming. Just give me a minute. Come inside."

After dragging the lawnmower back into the shed, Blake led Vance into the backdoor to the dining room.

"Sorry, there's no electricity, so that's why it's cold in here. And... I don't have a drink to offer you, either."

"That's fine." He only glanced around for a moment. "So, you've heard about... your old man?"

"Yeah." Blake nodded even though the mere mention chilled him. "Uh, yes, I dropped in to take care of things for him."

"Are you okay?"

The question paired with those eyes flustered Blake. "Yes. Yeah, I'm okay. I just want to make—make sure everything is... fine, so I can sell the house."

"You're gonna sell it?"

"Well, yeah." Blake scratched the back of his neck. "It's gonna be tough to find a buyer in Northfield, but maybe a couple of high school sweethearts from our graduating class might buy it. There's room for a nursery and everything. They'll just have to... replace the door."

"Right." Vance's smile dimmed a little. "Um. Do you have any questions... about what happened?"

He did. But he felt like it was better not to know. "Nah. Thank you, but I'm fine."

"I'll just let you know that Mr. Nelson found him. After that, he did a lot of the cleaning in this place." Vance looked at the floor. "He has a bad shoulder from the war, so he needed help sometimes, but he did all of it."

"Nelson? Officer Nelson?" That stony son-of-a-gun?

"Yeah. He even took a couple weeks off to do it."

"Huh." Blake looked around like the house had just sprouted up from the ground around him a second ago. That old man really polished all this up? "How do you know all this?"

He looked away. Then, he looked back to sheepishly mutter, "He needed help with the lawn."

"You cleaned the house, too?"

"Well, uh... I helped."

Blake blushed. He really didn't want Vance to see where he lived, yet he helped cleaned it up even after Blake... said all that to him. "Er... thank you. You didn't have to."