Joe slunk down into the old woman’s chair, trying not to look her in the eye. He didn’t say a word, not yet. He was waiting for her to settle down a bit, sit back down at the table and sip her tea.
“You had the lawn to mow this morning, but now it’s almost noon, I suppose it will be too warm and you’ll have to wait till evening.”
This of course was Joe’s plan. He knew if he waited she wouldn’t make him mow in the middle of the hot day. That was not the only reason. He would never admit it to anyone, especially her, that he came late these days on purpose.
She could be gruff, this old woman he did chores for. Joe didn’t mind doing them, in fact he enjoyed helping her. Other jobs that didn’t require a noisy mower he would listen to her stories. Joe’s own grandmother passed away and he remembers how he loved her.
This day, after she settled in with her tea, the story telling would begin. You might think she was unaware of Joe’s fascination, and was angry at his tardiness. On the days Joe was late she always had a full teapot, biscuits, and two cups at the ready.