When a Stranger Mows Your Lawn

Sigrid is rather shy. She lives alone with her 14-year-old, three-legged Chihuahua, Mr. Nigel Poopers. Her biggest fear is that Nigel will run away and get hit by a car. Luckily, he does not move fast.

There's a strange man who mows her lawn every week. And no, that's not a euphemism. She might have met him before. At one of those cider and coffee cake open house type things her overly friendly neighbors are always hosting. Herb or Harry or some "H" name. He comes down their quiet street on his riding mower and zips around her yard, gives her a hearty wave, though she knows he can't see her through the sunlit windows. At first, she thought it a rude imposition, but now she looks forward to it. She's thinking about offering him some hot cocoa. But what does hot cocoa imply? Come in from the cold. Sit by the fire. Hold me. Better go with tea. Tea says - "Nice weather, eh?" (but don't get too close).