Page 21 of Big Britches

When he reached the front yard, Pedro noticed there was much less detail, landscaping-wise. For such a grand home, the front was lacking character. There were the typical trees, shrubs, and beds of the south, but nothing special. It was nowhere near as pretty as the backyard. Of course, it made sense that Titus would focus on the back. That was where the pool and the secondary house were, where he spent most of his time.

Pedro saw Otto Luyken laurels, boxwood, juniper and other builder-grade greenery. He could spruce things up by taking many of these out and interspersing something like those newer Encore Azaleas. Maybe some butterfly bushes and Knock Out roses to bring more color. Some hostas for contrast. And the laurels weren’t right as anchors on the corners. The house needed something taller, with large blooms.

Camellias, he thought.

The motor hummed as he circled the lawn. It wasn’t a huge yard, but it seemed much larger from the lack of trees. The bulk of tall growth was a towering line of Leyland cypresses to one side, another inexpensive trick many builders used to ensure privacy. But there was no reason for them here. The house stood isolated, with no other home in sight. Those had to go. In the midst was one enormous magnolia that could stay. That was what a house of this magnitude needed–a few tall, fat magnolias, accented with something daintier like fruit trees or–

Dogwoods.

Pedro lowered the blade on the tractor and felt it whirring beneath him. He began mowing on a diagonal, strips to create a design similar to those you would see on a professional baseball field. Titus would surely appreciate that, having been an athlete and all.

It was already hot out, and terribly muggy. The sun was bearing down on him with the added weight of deep south humidity. He reached into his cooler for a bottle of water, turning the mower and heading back toward the house on his second strip. He removed the cap and lifted the water high, swallowing more of the liquid than he had planned, pulling half the bottle down his throat while tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

Yes, he thought. I should have had some water sooner. Not only was it cooling him, it was clearing his head.

You’re projecting it all, he decided. Imagining things. Titus was just a nice guy, a nice straight guy, swimming laps. He was being polite and you couldn’t stop staring at his crotch. You’re nothing but a lecherous pervertido.

Pedro opened his eyes mid-swig, seeing movement above. A gap in the curtains of an upstairs window flittered before being yanked closed.

OK. Maybe you weren’t imagining things.

He felt both self-conscious and thrilled that Titus might be watching him. Pedro mowed the remaining front and side yard without pause or looking toward the house again. If he was being watched, he didn’t want Titus to know that he was aware of it.

Why?

Because even if his suspicions were valid, theirs was still a professional relationship. He was representing Compton’s Greenscapes foremost, and he was here to do a job. Silas had explained the importance of this account and Pedro would not let him down. The whole reason he was in Georgia in the first place was because Silas Compton was sponsoring him for US citizenship.

But still… Titus had been near naked when they met.

He wasn’t expecting me; he was expecting Carlos.

Carlos would have waved from a distance, and Titus would have returned the gesture before going inside. Business as usual.

I interrupted his routine. An introduction was necessary. That’s all.

Yes. Titus had greeted Pedro and attempted to acclimate him. It wasn’t as if he intended to put on a show.

Then why not put a on robe, or wrap in a towel, at least?

Because straight men are at ease with other men. Even naked. Jocks. Locker rooms.

I surprised him, and he was being hospitable. Southern etiquette.

True. In fact, Titus was so hospitable he’d offered Pedro a beer and a dip in the pool.

!?!?!?

The clippings container was now full and needed emptying. Pedro braked the mower and turned it off, standing and circling to the rear. He unfolded a refuse bag and emptied the clippings into it. As he was tying off the bag, he wondered–

What if you put a show on for him, too? Unwittingly, of course. Just a little one.

It wouldn’t be unwittingly at all, that’s what. But, if Titus was watching and, if he believed Pedro was unaware, the perception would be so.

Pedro set the full refuse bag on a section of the grass he had already mowed. He replaced the container on the back of the mower and reached for his water bottle, lifting it high and draining it.

Are you watching me right now, Titus?

When the bottle was empty, he placed it back in the cooler, curbing his movements to lengthen the task, as if showing the model way to dispose of an empty water bottle in the sweltering sun. He then raised his head languidly to the sky, lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the glare.