Lacin' up the Cleats

You woke up.
It had stopped raining. Good thing, too. Today was the day you were going to be mowing yards. You walked to each house and mowed their yards, weed wacked and edged each yard. You only had to do four yards. You got paid forty dollars for them.

You were disgruntled. You were hoping to get more than just ten dollars a yard but you thought it was good leg and upper arm training so you were fine with it.

You had only one more house left. The house with the big gates and fence all the way around.

Once you made it there, you called, “Excuse me?”
The same guard from earlier appeared, “Yeah?”

“I am here to mow the yard.” You smiled.
“What’s your name?” he asked gruffly, eyeing you up and down.

“Riley James. I live I the neighborhood, remember?” You reminded him.
“Alright, alright. Hurry up and cur the yard.” He grunted and opened the gate and closed it quickly after you.

You went up to the door, with the guard watching suspiciously, and knocked. A lady opened the door.
“Hi, I’m Riley James. I’m here to cut your yard.” You smiled again.
“Oh, hi Riley! The mower is in the garage.” She gave you the code to the garage and when you tried to ask how high she wanted it cut you didn’t know what to call her, “Just call me Denise, dear.”

So you then thanked her and cut her yard at the right height. By the time you finished, it was scorching hot outside. You put away the mower, the edger, and the weed wacker. You were going to put the clippings down into their trashcan when the guard came up and hefted it for you.

“Thank you!” You called after him, not receiving an answering grunt.
“Riley, dear, will you come in?” you heard Denise call you from the front door.

You walked up and said, “I don’t know if you want me inside. I’m sure I smell pretty bad.”
Denise gave a little laugh, “I have four boys. I can assure you, you do not smell bad.”

You smiled and stepped into the air conditioned home.
Inside, it was immaculate. She led you into the kitchen with its granite countertops and offered you cookies and milk which you gladly accepted.

While you ate the cookies, you listened to Denise tell stories of her four boys. They were hilarious; you couldn’t believe half of what she said but you knew she was telling the truth.

When she was telling one of the most recent stories, her youngest, you assumed, ran up to her showing her his hand which had a bleeding cut on it.

“Oh Frankie, dear! What happened?” She picked him up, placed him on the counter by the sink, and washed his cut.

“Joe wanted to try a new game but it didn’t work out too well.” Frankie mumbled, being vague.
Denise stopped washing his hands and began to put a band-aid on it.
She stopped altogether when he didn’t continue and eyed him suspiciously, “What new game?”

He ducked his head and mumbled even quieter, “It was a new video of theirs and … Well, I had to throw a paper airplane but I was joking and ran into a metal trashcan and cut my hand.”

She calmly finished putting the band-aid on and then went upstairs.

Frankie looked at you.
You looked at Frankie.

“Hi! Want me to get you some milk?” You asked.
He grinned, “Yes please!”

You went through a couple of cabinets looking for a glass. Once you found it, you got the milk out, and poured some out for Frankie. He thanked you and began to eat some cookies with you.

You could hear an argument upstairs, but you weren’t too sure what was being said.

You decided it was probably best for you to leave. You put away your now empty glass and cleaned up your place. You asked Frankie if he could tell his mom that she could pay her whenever. Frankie said sure through a mouthful of cookies.

You laughed and left.
When you were allowed back through the gate, the guard asked, “You’ll be coming back soon, right?”
Puzzled you asked, “I’ll be coming back next week to cut the yard and that’s it, why?”

His eyes widened and just nodded. Although he did seem to think you’d be clambering back over that fence in a few seconds.

Once you got home, took a shower, and sitting in bed, you checked your phone.
You had a text message from Joe.
“So why did you cut my yard today?”

You texted back with a grin, “I need the money, duh.”
A few minutes later, “Why? :/”

You sighed, “It’s kinda a long story but, my friend wants to go see the Jonas brother’s concert so I am paying for my ticket and plus I want to get new cleats.”

“Oh … do you like the Jonas Brothers?”
“Dunno, I’ve never really listened to them before.”
“Well have you seen any of the bands’ members?”
“Nope.”
“That explains a lot.”

You two were texting faster now.

“What do you mean?”
“Just how you don’t know if you like them or not.”
“Oh.”
“What kind of cleats are you getting?”

And that started a long discussion on the different types of cleats and which style is the best.

Finally you fell asleep.
The next day you awoke to your phone buzzing about missed messages. You quickly checked back through them and apologized for not answering them.

You went for a jog, took a shower, and went to go buy some cleats. You came back home and were trying them on again when your coach called.

“Hey Riley! We’ve got a game tonight. Are you able to come?” She asked.
“Yeah, I’m ready, Coach!” You said excitedly.

You hung up the phone and began to break in your shoes. You texted your buddy, Joe, and asked if he could come to your game.

“Well, maybe. I might bring Frankie too.”
“:]”

You couldn’t wait to see them but you really couldn’t wait for the game either.