Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the freshly mowed lawn as Mrs. Gable from next door approached. Her smile was tentative, her hands fidgeting with a gardening glove. *Here it comes*, thought Arthur, puffing out his chest a little, a familiar heat blooming in his stomach.

"Arthur, dear," Mrs. Gable began, her voice a little wavery, "I was wondering if… well, if it would be alright… to maybe, just a small bit…"

He held up a hand, silencing her. "Of course, Clara. What did you have in mind?" His voice boomed, startling even himself. He felt a surge of energy, a need to protect and provide.

Mrs. Gable’s eyes widened slightly. "Oh, well, perhaps just a small strip along the fence line? For some tomatoes and zucchini?" The tentative smile returned, now wider, hopeful. "I'd be ever so grateful."

He waved his hand expansively. “Anything you need, Clara. Consider it done. We'll get that fence ready for your garden first thing tomorrow. I'll even help you till the soil!” A grin split his face. He’d spend the evening sharpening the tiller blades, making sure everything was perfect.