My Teenage Son Mowed Our Lonely Neighbor’s Lawn for Free Every Saturday for 4 Years – at the Old Man’s Funeral, a Lawyer Handed Him an

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He looked at me.

“This is awkward.”

“Check underneath.”

He leaned forward and felt along the frame.

His fingers touched tape.

A small black notebook was fixed beneath the seat.

Almost every page had a date.

Noah opened it.

Almost every page had a date.

Saturdays.

“Boy came at 8:10. Too hot today. Told him to quit early. He ignored me.”

Noah laughed.

Another page.

“Rain. Thought he wouldn’t come. He came.”

He kept reading.

Then:

“Driving now. Parks too close to my mailbox.”

Noah frowned.

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I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

He kept reading.

“Exams this week. Looks tired.”

There were four years of entries.

“Graduation next month. Hope he gets where he’s going.”

“Seemed upset today. Didn’t ask. Maybe should have.”

Noah stopped smiling.

There were four years of entries.

Four years of Mr. Vance noticing him.

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