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The man eyed him. “Dinner, huh? She didn’t say anything to me.”
Cal didn’t have an answer for that, so he picked up the bag at his feet. “Mind if I treat your lawn? It won’t take very long.”
“What are you going to charge?”
“No charge,” he hurried to say. “Like I said, it won’t take long.”
The old man’s white eyebrows arched. “Then what are you waiting for? The sun’s gonna set in a few hours.”
“I’ll get right on it.” Cal hid a smile and turned to step off the porch.
“You Rachel’s kid?”
He paused and turned back. “She’s my aunt.”
The admission didn’t seem to surprise him. “She’s a good gal. Treats me right. Now, the doctor’s treatment is another story.”
“I agree, she’s a good lady, and I’ll let her know you said hi.”
“Hmph.” Pops stepped back and shut the door.
“Well, I guess that’s my signal to get to work,” Cal mused. He pulled out his phone to text Steph that he was at her house, but there was already a text from her.
I’m working a little longer since one of the stylists called in sick. Dinner at six?
He decided to let his early arrival be a surprise, so he wrote back:Sounds good.
The lawn treatment was done in less than an hour, and when he knocked on the door again, this time Pops opened it right away. Had he been watching out the window or something?
“Did you change your mind about charging me money?” the old man asked.
“No, sir, I wondered if I could wash up,” Cal said. “Then I’ve got an extra light bulb in my car that I could replace your porch light with.”
“You can call me Pops, everyone does.” He looked up at the porch light as if it were on at that moment. “It still works.”
“Barely.”
“Come in.” Pops moved out of the doorway and led the way to the kitchen through the front room.
Inside, the place was clean, but it was well lived-in and the furniture well used. Reminded him of Donna’s place. Bookcases lined one wall, double and triple stacked with books. Mysteries, historicals, romances, fantasy novels … Pops’s? Or Steph’s?
Once in the kitchen, Cal turned on the kitchen faucet and found the handle loose. After washing his hands, he grabbed a paper towel to dry them.
“How long has the faucet been leaking?” he asked Pops, because the man was sitting at the table watching him like a hawk.
“It drips a little, but only at night.”
Cal blinked. It was dripping at that moment. “Maybe you can only hear it at night, but it’s definitely dripping.”
Pops waved a hand. “Oh, Steph adjusts it when I bug her about it. I don’t mind a little dripping. I’d fix it myself, but my eyes aren’t what they used to be. And Steph has to watch those dang videos on her phone to do anything around here.”
“Videos?”
“She calls them U-Soup.”
It took Cal a second. “YouTube?”
“That’s it.”
