I leaned over my counter, straining on my toes to get a peek at John. I had called him this morning asking him if he had a contractor he could recommend to mend the hole in my wall.
Forever the handyman, he told me not to throw away my money and that he would be over to fix it in no time. In jeans and a signature Falcon's polo, he was bent over his toolbox sorting through various important looking mechanisms. I stopped peeking and returned to my attempt at homemaking.
I finished emptying the powdered lemonade into a glass and stirred it when a soup spoon. the water turning from transparent to neon yellow. I made myself a cup to match and took a hesitant sip. Too sweet.
I dug through the fridge, snatched a lemon, cut it in half and squeezed it over each glass. I sniffed the glass before
