“I want those to go, too.” She pointed to the row of rosebushes, yellow and red blossoms bobbing in the breeze.
“Ma’am?” The bushes were healthy, lush, and while he wasn’t a flower man himself, he was sure someone had lavished a great deal of care on them, and recently, too.
She smiled and a cold wind blew across his face.
“I said, I want those to go.”
He shrugged and started up the chainsaw. Couldn’t figure out some people no way, no how.