The Lawn

I mowed the lawn for the 82-year-old widow next door — the following morning, a sheriff knocked on my door with a request that made my blood run cold. I was 34 weeks pregnant and completely on my own. My ex left the moment I told him about the baby, abandoning me with a mortgage and bills I could barely face without panic. For months, I’d been buried under overdue notices. Last Tuesday felt like the lowest point. It was 95 degrees. My back ached constantly. And I had just received the call — foreclosure had officially begun. I stepped outside because I couldn’t catch my breath. That’s when I saw Mrs. Higgins.