He reminded himself to shave and, studying himself, considered the abject terror of risking a haircut with an unfamiliar barber.

He could put that one off awhile longer.

By the time he’d dressed, Jan was at the kitchen counter drinking coffee with Jasper sprawled at her feet.

“A treat to wake up to coffee.”

He walked around the counter, hugged her from behind. “Kids still asleep?”

“We wore them out. You want some breakfast?”

“I ate enough last night to hold me for a couple of days.”

“You could use a few more pounds, Slim.”

Probably, he thought. He’d gained back some of what he’d lost in the first year after Lorilee’s death, but he wasn’t back to fighting weight.

“With your cooking, if I don’t watch it, it’ll be more than a few. Maybe you could post your work schedule like you used to. We can rotate cooking nights. I’m a lot better at putting a meal together than I used to be.”

“You couldn’t’ve gotten much worse.”

“Ouch.”

“Egg Bread Blobs. Grilled Cheese Flambé.”

“Early experimental work.”

“Since the kids are obviously healthy and well-fed, I’ll take you at your word you’ve moved into a later period.”

“I’ll surprise you.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m going to have to wake up the slugs, get them moving if we’re going to make that appointment to see the house.”

“Let them sleep awhile. They can go into work with me.”

“You want to take them into work?”

“I took you and Maya when I had to. You know the drill.”

He sat beside her a minute. “Help do the setups, make sure the closing crew didn’t skimp on cleaning the tables and chairs, and earn quarters for the video machines.”

“Do the work, get the pay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’d love it, and you should take a look without them. If it strikes a chord, you can come by and pick them up to go see it, get their reaction.”

“You’re a sensible woman, Jan Marie.”

“I’m all that.” She got up to top off her coffee, squeeze a little of her creamer into it. “And who knows better what it’s like to be a single parent with two kids and a full-time job? The Rizzos gave me more help than I can ever repay.”

“I know it.”

“Then the neighbors, the community. You’ve got that now, and me, Maya and Joe. We can rotate more than cooking dinner, and we will. Meanwhile, you’ve got more than finding a house to deal with. You’ve got to settle on a pediatrician, a dentist, get them registered for school, find a vet. Get a haircut.”

He shot his fingers through his hair. “I’m not going there yet. I need to work up to that one. The rest I was going to start on today.”

“I can tell you there’s a dentist in town now. I’ve been using him for the last year or so, and I’m happy with him. He’s got offices right across from the fire department, so there’s even off-street parking.”

“Sold.” Now he ran his tongue over his teeth. “I guess.”

“As for the haircut, there’s always Bill’s.”

“They scalp you there.” He poked at her. “You know they scalp you there. You never made me go there.”

“Because I loved you and your goldy locks.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Then you’ll love the man bun when I grow into it.”

She laughed, shook her head. “I’m going up, getting dressed. I’ll get the kids going, get some breakfast in them.”

He’d forgotten what it was like to have someone else do something that basic. “If you’re sure, I’ll take Jasper with me. We’ll both get a walk in. I’ll see more of the neighborhood if I walk over instead of drive.”

“You do that. I should tell you there’s another house, already on the market. It’s down the other side of town, closer to the school, so that might suit you better. It’s got a smaller yard, but it’s got one. It hasn’t been remodeled, so it’s likely going for less. Sturdy, redbrick place, decent front porch, on Schoolhouse Drive.”

“Good to know.”

“Take your time,” she said as she rose. “We’ll see you at the shop when you get there.”

He took his time, rounding up the dog, the leash. Digging up the pooper-scooper and bag, sticking them in his pocket. He found his sunglasses, considered his Mets cap then, thinking of Orioles-land, left it behind.

Jasper’s head swiveled, right-left, right-left, in the dog’s fascination with the new surroundings. Since he didn’t have to hurry, Raylan tolerated the many pauses for avid sniffing, the occasional leg lift to dribble out some pee to show his manliness.

He stopped at the corner a block off Main where a woman in a straw hat snipped off the dead blooms on an enormous climbing rose. She wore pink knee-length shorts that showed skinny, ghost-white legs spiderwebbed with purple veins.

Mrs. Pinsky, he remembered. He’d mown her lawn every week for three summers. Between mowing jobs and his part-time work at Rizzo’s, he’d saved enough to buy his first shitpile of a car.

He’d thought Mrs. Pinsky a thousand years old when he was fifteen. And here she was, still deadheading roses.

“Hey, Mrs. Pinsky!”

She looked over, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses, putting a hand to her ear—and hearing aid. “What?”

“It’s Raylan Wells, Mrs. Pinsky. Jan Wells’s son.”

“You’re Jan’s boy?” She put a hand on her hip. “You come to visit your ma?”

“I’m moving back to the Creek.”

“Is that so? Moved away to some godforsaken place, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Your ma’s a fine woman.”

“The best there is.”

“It’s good you know that. You used to mow my grass. You looking for work?”

“Ah, no, ma’am. I’ve got a job.”

“Can’t get anybody to cut my damn grass who doesn’t want my right leg and left foot.”

She’d watched him like a hawk, he recalled, but had always paid him fair. And usually added a couple of cookies and a glass of something cold as a tip.

“I’ll mow it for you,” he heard himself say, right before he wanted to kick himself in the ass.

She eyed him sternly. “How much?”

“No charge.”

“A body does a job, a body gets paid for it.”

“I might buy a house around on Mountain Laurel Lane. If I do, we’d be neighbors. Neighbors do for neighbors.”

That got a smile. “Your ma raised you right. Mower’s around back in the shed.”

“Yes, ma’am. I have to go look at that house right now. I’ve got an appointment there. I’ll take care of it on the way back if that’s okay.”

“That’ll do. Thank you kindly.”

He walked on, warning himself not to volunteer if he happened to spot someone else he remembered.

Now he had to carve out time every week to mow her lawn, and he’d already committed himself—to himself—to take over that chore for his mom.