He comes nearly every day, sometimes every-other day, sometimes twice a day. It really depends on the weather and how lonely he gets. But rarely does he come without bringing something for me or the children, and always asking about my dear husband. Those two like to sit and drink coffee together.
White hair tossed about, he adjusts his hearing-aid as he grips the rail on the side porch. There is a shy look about him as he knocks on the window. I leave dishes and running water, motion for him to come on in.
He notices the pears laid out on the counter, the ones he picked from his tree yesterday, and reminds me again about how his mama made the best pear tarts and pear preserves.... Silently, I remember the summer Ms. Lishman taught me to make pear honey....
Today Neighbor-man stretches a bundle of roses my way and I carry on about how beautiful they look. Sweet Pea crawls over, getting her foot caught in her dress again, and streches up pretending to smell them. I gather her and the flowers up and her eyes brighten as we fill another mason jar of water. Cool, velvety petals of all colors meet her fingertips as she and I arrange them just-so.
Black-coffee warmed over suits him fine; "I never turn down a cup of coffee" he says as he leans back to enjoy a taste of Community.
