Page 118 of Yolo

I grinned. “Just try to keep her out of it as best you can.”

Bindi groaned. “You aren’t helping.”

I pulled her into my side. “Let’s go buy some Christmas presents, baby.”

She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I cupped her head to press a kiss to her head.

“Fine. But I’m getting my amaretto latte with cinnamon sugar sprinkles.”

“Done.”

Turns out I’m not depressed. I just need to go on vacation and get bent over every piece of furniture in the VRBO.

—Text from Bindi to Garrett

GARRETT

6 months later

“Your wife is in your front yard mowing.”

I blinked, positive that I hadn’t heard him correctly.

“I’m sorry, but can you repeat that?” I asked.

“Your wife.” Hollis giggled. “She’s in your front yard mowing your grass.”

The pure terror that shot through me upon the thought of her, blind, on my zero turn made the stomach acid bubble up my throat.

“Fuck,” I said as I all but ran out of the room.

“Garrett, calm down!” she called out, but I ignored her and ran out of the house.

I didn’t find her on my zero turn.

I found her using a push mower that I used when I was doing the small side yard between my brother’s place and mine.

I stopped when I saw her in my front yard, sure enough, mowing my grass.

I remembered this morning when she asked me about the yard.

“What’s the shape of it?” she’d asked.

I’d explained the shape and the flower beds. I’d told her about the sidewalk with the small rock creek that ran through it.

I’d also explained how I mowed the closer sections to the landscaping with the push mower.

She’d found that push mower, too.

She’d mowed over half the yard.

Some of it was bad, obvious missed spots throughout.

Then there were other spots that were fantastic.

As I watched, she bent down, the front of the mower going up with her movement and felt the grass.

Upon feeling the high grass spots with her fingers, she readjusted the mower and started walking again.

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