Poor Dad Helped Her Start Lawnmower, Not Knowing She Was a Millionaire Creating Reasons to Return
Lemonade, Faucets, and Volcanoes
The next day, Riley was elbow-deep in gardening gloves and mulch when Brandon’s pickup truck pulled into her driveway. She straightened up, suddenly conscious of her appearance with no makeup, hair in a messy bun, and wearing an old Harvard t-shirt and shorts.
Brandon approached with a small paper bag in hand. Riley noticed he was alone this time.
“One air filter as promised,” he announced, holding up the bag.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Riley said, pulling off her gardening gloves.
“Lily didn’t come with you today?”
“She’s at a playdate.”
“I’ve got about an hour of freedom,” he said with a smile.
“Need help installing this?”
Riley hesitated, then nodded.
“If you don’t mind. I’d probably put it in backward or something.”
“Happy to help, though I should warn you my hourly rate is steep. Might cost you a glass of water on a hot day like this.”
Riley laughed.
“I think I can manage that. Maybe even upgrade to lemonade if you’ve got the time.”
“Well, now we’re talking luxury,” Brandon joked, following her to the shed where she’d stored the lawn mower.
As Brandon worked on the lawn mower, Riley brought out two glasses of lemonade. She watched him, noticing how his hands moved with precision and confidence.
“So, science teacher, huh?” she asked.
“What grade?”
“High school chemistry and physics.”
He accepted the lemonade with a grateful nod.
“Eight years now at Milfield High.”
“Do you like it?”
“Love it, actually.”
Brandon’s eyes lit up. There’s nothing quite like watching a kid understand something for the first time—that moment when it clicks. He took a sip of lemonade.
“What about you? What do you do in Chicago?”
Riley paused, then decided on a partial truth.
“I work in tech healthcare software.”
“Impressive. Big company?”
“Big enough,” she said evasively.
“But honestly, I’m trying to leave work behind while I’m here.”
Brandon nodded, seeming to understand. Fair enough. Milfield’s good for that—disconnecting. He mentioned cell service is spotty at best, which is either a curse or a blessing depending on who you ask.
“Definitely a blessing for me,” Riley said truthfully.
Her assistant had nearly had a heart attack when Riley mentioned the poor reception, but Riley had been secretly relieved. Brandon finished installing the filter, closing the compartment with a click.
“All set. Should run much better now.”
“Thank you,” Riley said, reaching for her wallet on the nearby porch table.
“How much do I owe you for the filter?”
“$8.37,” Brandon replied.
Riley handed him a twenty.
“Please, keep the change.”
Brandon looked at the bill, then back at Riley with an unreadable expression.
“That’s a very generous tip for a small favor.”
“It’s not just for today,” Riley insisted.
“You saved me yesterday too.”
Brandon hesitated, then pocketed the money.
“Well, thank you. Lily’s been wanting a new book, so this will go toward that.”
Something in his tone made Riley realize she might have offended him unintentionally. She was used to throwing money at problems and people, but Brandon didn’t seem like the type of person who wanted charity.
“I’m sorry if that was presumptuous,” she said quietly.
Brandon’s expression softened.
“No need to apologize. I just… we get by fine, Lily and me. I don’t want you to think otherwise.”
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
“I know,” he interrupted gently.
“And I’m being overly sensitive. Teacher salary jokes get old, you know.”
Riley nodded, relieved that the moment of tension had passed. She wanted to know more about him, about Lily, and about their life in this small town so different from her own world.
“Is it just you and Lily?” she asked cautiously.
Brandon’s expression grew more serious.
“Yes. Her mother left when she was two. Decided family life wasn’t for her after all.”
“I’m sorry,” Riley said softly.
Brandon shrugged, but Riley could see the old pain there.
“It was hard at first. Really hard.”
“But we’ve made our peace with it. Found our rhythm.”
He finished his lemonade.
“What about you? Family?”
“Just me,” Riley admitted.
“Parents passed away in my twenties. No siblings.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Brandon said, and the genuine empathy in his voice touched her.
An awkward silence fell between them, both suddenly aware they’d ventured into personal territory quickly.
“Well,” Brandon said, checking his watch.
“I should probably get going. Need to pick up Lily soon.”
“Of course,” Riley nodded.
“Thank you again for your help.”
Brandon was halfway down the driveway when Riley called after him.
“Brandon! I just realized I have no idea how to winterize this place.”
“The real estate agent mentioned something about pipes freezing.”
Brandon turned back.
“Are you planning to use the cottage in winter?”
“I’m not sure,” Riley said honestly.
“But I’m not sure. I’d like to know my options.”
“Tell you what, I can stop by this weekend, give you a crash course in Vermont winter prep. If you’re still around, that is.”
Riley smiled.
“I will be. That would be great.”
As she watched his truck pull away, Riley realized she was already mentally rearranging her schedule to extend her stay in Milfield. Three days later, Riley found herself in an unexpected predicament.
The kitchen sink had developed a persistent drip that had graduated to a steady trickle overnight. After futilely attempting to tighten various parts with a wrench she’d found in the shed, she finally admitted defeat.
She could call a plumber, but the only number she had was the local handyman who usually gets to jobs within a week or two. She needed a faster solution.
Before she could overthink it, Riley was walking down the rural road toward Brandon’s house. He’d mentioned they lived just down the way, which in country terms meant a good quarter-mile.
The sun beat down on her shoulders as she approached a modest white farmhouse with a well-maintained yard and a basketball hoop in the driveway. She was about to knock when she heard laughter from around back.
Following the sound, she found Brandon and Lily in the backyard. Brandon was helping his daughter build what appeared to be a model volcano. Both of them were covered in plaster and laughing as it refused to hold its shape.
“No, Daddy! The top has to be pointier!” Lily was saying, gesturing dramatically with hands covered in white paste.
“If we make it any pointier, it’ll look like a party hat,” Brandon argued good-naturedly.
“Um, hello,” Riley called, feeling suddenly intrusive.
Both heads turned simultaneously, identical expressions of surprise on their faces.
“Riley?” Lily exclaimed, waving excitedly with a plaster-covered hand.
Brandon stood, wiping his hands on his jeans.
“This is a surprise. Everything okay?”
“I hate to bother you,” Riley began.
“But I’ve got a leaky faucet that’s getting worse by the hour.”
“I tried fixing it myself, but I think I made it angry.”
Brandon laughed.
“Sounds serious. Plumbing emergencies wait for no one.”
“I can call a plumber if you’re busy,” Riley said quickly, nodding toward their project.
“Nonsense. Lily and I were just about to take a break anyway, right kiddo?”
Lily nodded enthusiastically.
“Our volcano needs to dry before we can paint it. Can Riley help us paint it later, Daddy?”
Brandon looked at Riley with a raised eyebrow.
“That depends. How are your artistic skills?”
“Tragically underdeveloped,” Riley admitted.
“But I’m very good at staying within the lines.”
“That’s more than I can say for this one.”
Brandon ruffled Lily’s hair, earning a giggle and a protest.
“Let me grab my toolbox and I’ll follow you over.”
Twenty minutes later, Brandon was under Riley’s kitchen sink while she sat on a nearby stool watching him work.
“So, what’s the diagnosis, doctor?” she asked.
“Nothing serious,” Brandon’s voice echoed from inside the cabinet.
“Just a worn-out washer. It’s pretty common in older places like this.”
He emerged, holding up a tiny rubber ring.
“See? This little thing is the culprit.”
“All that trouble from something so small,” Riley mused.
“Isn’t that always the way?” Brandon smiled, reaching back into his toolbox.
“Luckily I’ve got a replacement here. Should take just a minute to fix.”
Riley watched him work, struck again by his capability. In her world, problems were solved by calling experts or delegating to assistants. There was something deeply attractive about a man who could tackle everyday problems with his own hands.
“So, what’s with the volcano?” she asked as he worked.
“Lily’s summer science project. The kids get to present them at the town’s summer science fair next weekend.”
Brandon tightened something under the sink. He mentioned she’s been obsessed with volcanoes since watching a documentary about Pompeii.
“A little morbid for a six-year-old, but I’m not going to discourage scientific curiosity.”
“That’s adorable,” Riley said.
“And the fair sounds fun.”
“You should come,” Brandon said casually, emerging from under the sink and testing the faucet.
“No more drips. It’s actually a pretty big deal around here. The whole town turns out.”
Riley felt a flutter of excitement at the invitation.
“I’d like that, actually.”
Brandon packed up his tools, refusing Riley’s offer of payment.
“Consider it neighborly goodwill,” he insisted.
“At least let me thank you properly,” Riley said.
“Maybe dinner for you and Lily? I’m not much of a cook, but I know my way around a grill.”
The invitation hung in the air between them. Riley held her breath, suddenly worried she was being too forward.
“That sounds great,” Brandon finally said with a smile that made Riley’s heart skip.
“Lily’s been saying we need to have more grown-up dinner parties lately. She’s in a phase where she thinks she’s much older than six.”
“Perfect,” Riley said, trying not to sound too eager.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Around six? We’ll be here,” Brandon promised.
