“You scared me!” he said.

“Did you ring the bell?”

He nodded. “I brought you a plant,” he said.

“You did? Why?”

He shrugged, feeling kind of dumb. “There were a couple of them on sale at the garden store so I got one for myself and one for you. I should’ve called. But, I... Ah, I can’t stay anyway.”

“Of course you can stay,” she said, coming up on the porch. “This is lovely, thank you. And perfect. I love geraniums.” She pulled off her gloves. “Let’s have a glass of lemonade, shall we?”

“Aren’t you busy?”

“Not really. The boys are fishing with my dad and won’t be home till sunset. I was in the garden—I have some nice vegetables coming in. I’ll go in and get us some drinks. Is the porch okay? The weather’s so nice, I hate to waste it inside.”

“The porch is great,” he said. And then he breathed a giant sigh of relief, which she caught because she laughed.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

He waited patiently. He felt like a thirteen-year-old boy when all he wanted in the world was for once in his life to be a little slick with a lady. And so he laughed to himself—who was he kidding? He’d never been like that. In fact, he didn’t really want to be. He sure hadn’t bought a red geranium in an attempt to sweep Lola off her feet.

“It might not be as sweet as you like it,” she said as she was coming out the door with a tray and something under her arm. She held the tray with two glasses and a plate in one hand and with the other, snapped open a small serving table. She put it in front of them, set down the tray and took the chair opposite him. “You really have good timing—I was about ready for a break.” She handed him a glass. “I think this is the first time you’ve been to my house.”

“I did some work in the kitchen for you about ten years ago or so,” he said.

“That’s right, now I remember. That was a long time ago,” she said with a laugh. She took a drink from her glass. “This is a nice surprise. Thank you for the plant.”

“I should’ve called,” he said again.

“Why’d you come over?” she asked. “I mean, this has never happened before.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Wait, I don’t know why I said that. I do know why. We always have nice conversations when I stop at Home Depot or the diner for coffee, but it’s always busy. Half the time we can’t finish a sentence because someone needs you for something. Or else someone else wants to be in the conversation. And I started thinking, maybe I should really take you out to a movie, but then we wouldn’t get to talk, either. I thought it would be nice to have a conversation sometime without you being at work.” He sipped the lemonade. “This is good. Um, we’re both divorced. I know a lot of women and then again, not very many.”

“Now that makes very little sense,” she said.

“I don’t have any real close friends, that’s all. When I think about who I’m comfortable with, the people who come to mind are Sully, Maggie, Cal, a few of the guys around town. And you. I’ve been divorced a long time now.”

“But, really?” she asked. “Really divorced? Because from what little I know, you and Becky were together regularly...”

“That was my mistake,” he said.

She waited.

“I was treating it like a time-out when it was not a time-out—it was a divorce. I would be so far ahead if I’d treated it like one.”

“That’s a little vague.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize there were other men in her life. I was naive. I wish I’d known and I wish I’d moved on a long time ago.”

“What do you want, Tom?” she asked.

He looked at her. He realized he loved looking at her. “Oh God, Lola, I don’t want anything! I mean, I have no expectations, I don’t. But we’re a lot alike. We’re single, we’ve been working at least two jobs, raising our kids on our own, no spouses, no significant others. I mean, you never said...”

“I’ve dated, but—”

“We both get help from our parents sometimes. And I have a brother who’s always there for me and you have a sister, but... I don’t want anything,” he said again. “I just know I feel comfortable with you and it’s nice to have a woman friend. Maggie’s a friend but we don’t ever have long conversations or anything, we don’t talk about our lives. You and I—we talk about our lives. Our families, our folks, our kids, how aggravating it can be sometimes when there’s no other parent in the house to back us up. We talk about this carpool nonsense, getting the kids everywhere they have to go. I don’t have anyone else in my life like you. It’s...it’s comfortable. I finally broke away from that dead marriage and realized you’re the only person of the opposite sex I enjoy spending time with.”

“That’s very nice, Tom, but I’ve worked very hard to have an independent life, the kind I actually like. I’m not interested in dating. I don’t want a boyfriend. I get along just fine without a lover.”

That made him smile. “That’s good. I don’t think I’m a candidate for any of those jobs. Could we just be friends?”

“We’ve been friends for years!”

“I know! Don’t you think it’s a little weird the only time we ever talk is when you’re at work?”

“It’s where I am!”

“And you’re also here. So, Lola, how’s school going?”

She sighed as if she found this clumsy. “I’m taking a little time off. Summer, you know—though I could pick up some classes if I wanted to. But with the kids around more...”

“How long before you get your degree? Elementary ed, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” she said. “I think it’s practical. I love kids, I’m actually very good with them. When it was time to choose a major, it was the best I could do. I should have a career, right? Something to take me into retirement. Something to spend my next twenty years on so I have a pension of some kind.”

“I guess so.”

“Have you ever thought about that?”

“About teaching school?” he said. He laughed. “After all the years of homework I’ve invested in, I probably could. If I spend about twenty more years doing seasonal work for the county, I’ll qualify for a pension. My work schedule is pretty crazy, so many different jobs, but it works for me with four kids to chase around.”

“You like it, though?” she asked.

“Oh, I love it. I do a little of everything. I do chores for Sully in summer, I do a lot of building, mostly interiors. I plow, I pick up trash, mow fields, paint houses, do roadwork—you name it. Every day can be a new job and believe it or not, I like ’em all. Even the garbage pickup. Right now I’m almost full-time at Cal’s house—foreman on his project, which means I do some of the work myself, some we hire subs, some we work with the subs. I have to keep some days open for the county and for my friends.”

“How do you keep track of it all?”

“We have a very detailed calendar. Not only do I have to keep track of jobs, the kids have to know where I am and I have to know where they are. If everyone keeps an eye on the calendar, it somehow works. I haven’t misplaced a kid yet, though I’ve come close.”

“How often do you have to get family to help?” she asked. “Because that’s the hard part for me. My mom and dad aren’t as young as they were and they still work, too.”

“I think I get help from my mom or dad or my brother almost every week. When we have to be two places at once, usually. I’d be lost without them. But I try hard as I can to give back. And so do the kids if I motivate them. As in—I promise not to hate them. Or ground them. Or confiscate phones. You know, there are two things those phones do for me that are priceless—they let the kids stay in touch so I always know where they are. And they’re great contraband for confiscation.” He laughed. “Those kids will do anything to keep their phones.”

“I know—I have the same situation. You know how I’d really love to spend my time till retirement? If money were no object?”

“How?”

“Flipping houses,” she said, grinning.

“As in—flipping houses?”

“As in, buying fixer-uppers, remodeling, selling them. Not only do I get a discount at Home Depot, you can’t imagine the stuff I’ve learned there.”

“I’ve done that twice,” he said. “Took way too much time, but if I could do it full-time, it could make money. I lost money on the first one but I learned a lot and doubled my money on the second one.”

“Have you ever thought about doing it again?” she asked brightly.

“Lola, I’m thinking about ways to make money all the time. Those kids aren’t going to stop eating up money until they qualify for Social Security.”

They talked about his remodel of his big house, his remodel jobs elsewhere; she talked about some of the work she’d done on her old house and how much she’d enjoyed the work. She had to hire help for some things but she was hands-on for most of it. She did her own landscaping and her garden was plentiful. Tom didn’t have time for much of a garden. Just keeping the yard looking decent was a big enough job and he had a big house on a small lot.

They talked about the stress of managing college tuition for the kids, how difficult it could be having an ex-spouse who wasn’t exactly on a visitation or support payment schedule, the guilt of needing to rely on family support.

And then it was four o’clock. Tom realized he’d been on her porch more than two hours, checking texts from kids now and then. “I better get going. I insisted everyone be home before five—we’re going to my folks for dinner.”