Page 69 of From the Start
“Damn straight she is.”
“What are you watching?” I ask.
“Television is crap during the day. All reruns or news. Who wants to watch the news twenty-four hours a day? The world is going to the shitter. The details don’t matter.”
“What about a streaming service?”
“Streaming what?”
“May I?” I nod to the remote control and he hands it to me. I flip through the channels but there aren’t any streaming services. I spend a few minutes hooking the television up to the streaming services I use and adding my passwords so Harper and her dad can use my accounts.
“There,” I say and hand the remote control back to Henry. “You can watch pretty much anything now.”
His eyes light up. “I can? Do they have any of those detective shows? Harper hates detective shows. She claims she alwaysfigures out who did it in the first five minutes, so what’s the sense in finishing the show? Her mom was the same way.”
I help him find some shows I think he’ll enjoy. He chooses one to watch and promptly ignores me. As long as he’s happy, I don’t mind. Besides, I have work to do.
“I’ll be mowing the lawn. Holler if you need anything.”
Henry nods but I don’t think he heard what I said. He’s obviously fine.
I make my way to the garage and find the lawnmower. I check the gas is full before rolling the machine to the backyard and getting to work. It isn’t long before I’m sweating up a storm. I remove my shirt and throw it on a table on the patio.
I finish up the backyard and switch to the front. I could use a drink, but I want to get this lawn mowed before I stop.
I mow around a tree and then aim for the next tree, only to find Harper standing in my way. I switch off the lawnmower.
“Hey, Slugger. What are you doing home?”
“Preventing a riot.”
“Preventing a riot? I told your dad I would be mowing.”
“Dad doesn’t care since he’s absorbed in some BBC police detective show only available on a streaming service.”
“You can’t be mad.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I can’t?”
“It doesn’t cost me a dime to share my subscription with another household.”
Her nose wrinkles. “It doesn’t?”
“Nope.”
“Okay. Fine.”
I grin. “I think the word you’re searching for is thank you.”
She sighs. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, manly god of my dreams.”
“Don’t push it. It’s bad enough I had to come home from work to stop a riot.”
This isn’t the first time she mentioned a riot. “What are you talking about?”
She motions to the sidewalk and I glance over there to discover a row of women sitting on lawn chairs while sipping on wine.
