This story is the property of the writer Kalimaxos.
Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.
My characters are often flawed, and like real life, my stories are a shitshow, like life.
If I have grammatical errors, you'll get over it. It's a free story. I have dyslexia, and English is my second language. I make mistakes and have no editor.
So dive in.
******
Jill and I are transplanted Minnesotans of Swedish extraction now living in Ft. Worth, Texas. She thirty-one and I thirty-two, blond, blue-eyed, and fair-skinned we are not uncommon in Texas, but stick out in the Hispanic neighborhood we live in. And so does out across the street neighbor, Jack.
Jack Yoshimori that is. A Japanese American from California of all places. Being the odd people in our neighborhood, we bonded via necessity. Just about all our neighbors seemed to be Hispanic and ex-military cowboy types. And they sure took to making fun of us civilians. Even their women thought that Jill was not one of their own.
I traveled a lot and was often not home when things needed to be done around the house. Jill had mentioned how she wished she had a man to do those things, with her being all of five foot one and small framed at that.
"Look, I said, thinking of a quick solution. "Ask Jack across the street."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yes, quite. He is a good guy and a friend."
The next time I came back from a trip, I noticed the gutters were repaired and painted.
"Who did that Jill?"
"Jack across the street."
"See, I told you he was a good guy and reliable, didn't I?"
"Yes," she said while making dinner.
The next time I came back from a business trip, the broken pipe in the basement was fixed.
"Who did that Jill?"
"Jack across the street."
"Good-man," I replied. "Let's have him over for diner."
"It's OK," Jill said, "He knows we are grateful because I sent him flowers to say thank you."
"That's nice, honey," I said, glad she took care of such things. "You know how my career is taking off, and I can't say no to my boss."
The next time I came back from a business trip, the grass was cut.
"Who did that Jill?"
"Jack across the street."
"Wow!" I said. "That Jack is certainly stepping up."
Jill said nothing as she worked on grading her student exams.
I got on Amazon and picked out a set of tools Jack had told me he liked some time ago and had them shipped to his house. I added a card with a "Thanks for all you do for Jill" message.
