It didn’t take long for Phil to acknowledge his father was right. He grabbed his truck keys and headed toward the door. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back.”
His father shook his head. “Just go.”
“All right, all right.” Smiling to himself, Phil left the house.
* * *
—
Less than ten minutes later he parked in front of Joan’s house and was grateful to see her in the front yard, planting peonies. He relaxed, knowing he’d caught her before she’d left.
When she saw him, she paused, surprise lighting up her face. They’d been friends for a while now, and Phil enjoyed her company. Joan had added a great deal to the support group, and to his life, too. She had a gentle way about her, and was quick to laugh and quick to encourage others. She didn’t take herself seriously, either. Phil had rarely been more comfortable with a woman than he was with Joan.
“Phil,” she said, as a way of greeting. “Did you forget something?”
He’d been by the house earlier in the day for coffee. It’d been an impromptu visit, and they’d sat on the porch with Edison and talked for nearly an hour, following his dentist appointment. It was then that she’d told him her deep worries about Maggie and how the young woman had been stressed to the max, not knowing how best to help her father. The prohibitive cost of the rehab facility had left Maggie reeling after her talk with the bank.
Phil wasn’t entirely sure how to explain his arrival. Nervously, he tucked his fingertips into the back pockets of his Levi’s and met her halfway up the sidewalk.
She paused, waiting for him to explain himself.
“Are you heading to the Herberts’ house?” he asked.
“I am, although I’m not entirely sure what I can do on my own. I’m not much good at carpentry work and wouldn’t even consider attempting to repair the front steps. The one thing I can do is clear out the weeds from the flower beds and brighten up the yard.”
Phil was relieved Joan hadn’t decided to tackle anything inside the house, which would mean having to deal with Roy Herbert.
“Do you mind if I accompany you?” he asked.
Joan’s eyes widened with surprise. “You want to come with me?” And then she asked, “Why?”
He shrugged and did his best to explain. “The flower beds are a good start, but you and I both know that lawn is a disaster. We can work together. I’ll get the yard back into shape while you’re clearing and planting.”
“You’d do that?” Even after his explanation, Joan sounded amazed.
“Yup. I’d feel better if you weren’t alone with Roy Herbert,” he said, revealing his concern. “Plus, I want to help Maggie, too. That young woman could use all the support she can get.”
“Oh Phil, this is so thoughtful of you.” It looked for a moment as if she wanted to hug him. She didn’t, although Phil would have welcomed her embrace.
“Come on, then. You can ride with me, and we’ll stop off at the nursery. I’ll pick up what we need there.” He led the way to the truck and held open the passenger door for her. Already he felt better and the anxiety that had nagged at him ever since Joan told him of her plans eased.
Once they were on the road, Joan said, “I don’t think you need to worry about Roy. I’ve stopped by the house a couple times, and while Roy hasn’t exactly tossed out the welcome mat, he’s been decent.”
“Maggie was there with you, though, right?”
She twisted her mouth to one side and then the other before confirming the truth. “Not always.” She hesitated before placing her hand over his. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” he said, surprised by the warmth that went through him at her gentle touch.
After collecting what they needed at the local nursery where Phil routinely did business, they drove directly to Maggie’s house. Phil would have helped Joan out of the truck, but she climbed down before he could get around.
Standing on the sidewalk outside the house, Phil was struck anew with all that would need to be repaired and fixed before any bank in town would agree to give Maggie a loan.
He collected the lawn mower from the truck, while Joan carried the tray of flowers to the porch.
The front door opened and Roy Herbert stepped out, letting the screen door bang behind him. He placed his hands on both his hips and looked none too welcoming, glaring at them both through narrowed eyes.
“What are you two doing here?” he barked.
“Hello again, Roy,” Joan answered in a voice as cool and collected as if Roy had asked her if she wanted a cup of coffee. “You remember Phil Harrison, don’t you?”
Roy turned his attention to Phil and answered with a gruff snort and a dismissive gesture. “Still don’t know why you’re standing on my property like you own the place.”
“We’re here to help,” Joan explained.
“Don’t need no help,” Roy insisted.
“You do if Maggie is going to get that bank loan,” Joan returned, without a hint of censure.
“Don’t need no help and don’t need no loan. Now scat, the two of you, before I call the police.”
Phil found the threat humorous. “You’d make a nuisance call to the police because two volunteers are cleaning up the front of your yard?” he asked, in a joking kind of way. “I don’t mean to sound sarcastic, but my guess is they’d laugh you off the block.”
Roy continued to glare at the pair as if weighing his options. After a minute, he snorted loudly and shook his head as though admitting defeat. “Go ahead, then, wear yourselves out.”
“Thank you, Roy,” Joan said generously.
Roy returned to the house, slamming the screen door behind him. The wire mesh was torn and flapped with the force of it.
While Phil surveyed the yard to remove trash and empty beer bottles, Joan started in on clearing the flower bed, an ambitious project for sure. After years of neglect, it was difficult to tell where the lawn stopped and the beds started.
“You need any help?” he asked.
Before she could answer, the front door opened and an elderly Black man stepped outside. He stood on the porch and removed his hat, holding it politely in front of him.
“Roy won’t say it, so I will. He appreciates what you’re doing. He knows it’s not for him but for Maggie, and that’s why he’s letting you stay.” He nodded once, replaced his baseball cap, and returned to the house.
“That was nice,” Joan said.
Phil agreed. He stood beside Joan and noticed a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She must have touched her face after she set the tray of flowers on the porch step. Not giving it much thought, he removed his glove and brushed the offending earth aside.
Joan blinked with surprise.
“You had some dirt on your face.”
Embarrassed, Joan moved her hand to her cheek and brushed again in case any remained. When she noticed him staring at her she asked, “Did I miss some?”
“No,” he said, and looked away as if self-conscious at being caught watching her.
Grinning, Joan elbowed him playfully in the ribs. “Quit your jabbering and get to work.”
Chuckling to himself, Phil headed for the lawn mower.