by Temple West
“Hello?” she said into the phone. “Yes, um, our hot water heater is leaking.” She listened for a few moments. “The laundry room flooded and it’s spreading into the hall.” She listened again, eyes glistening. “I don’t know. Joe?” she asked, looking up at her husband. “Is there corrosion?” He nodded. She repeated the information into the phone and listened again and then choked when she said, “Not until five?”
Norah looked like she was going to burst into tears and Joe sat beside her on the bed. “Are you sure there’s nothing before then?” Norah looked hopeful for a moment, but I knew in that Murphy’s Law sort of way that there wouldn’t be anyone here to take care of this before we had to leave.
“Rachel,” I said, trying to get her attention. She looked up at me distractedly.
“Just a minute, Caitlin.”
“No, Rachel,” I said again insistently.
She looked at me again and said, “Hold on, please,” into the phone.
“I can stay,” I told her. I knew she was going to protest, so I bowled over and kept talking. “Look, I really want to go see Norah, but if we have to wait for someone to show up, then we’re not going to make it in time anyway, so either way I wouldn’t see her compete. If I stay, I can let them in, clean up enough of the mess so that the floor doesn’t get completely ruined, and then spend the weekend at Trish’s. She won’t mind. And that means you guys can leave on time.”
“Caitlin,” Joe began, “it’s a very nice offer, but—”
“It’s really not that big of a deal,” I broke in. “And aren’t they going to be broadcasting the events, anyway? I can still watch her on cable.”
This was all half true—but mostly I just wanted some time alone to decompress from everything that had happened with Adrian, and to be out from under the suffocating watch of Joe and Rachel. And honestly, I really, really didn’t want to spend ten hours in the backseat of the truck.
Rachel was stuck with the phone against her ear and her eyes on Joe.
“I’ve seen Norah ride,” I continued. “And it’s amazing. She should go.”
And I left it at that.
Joe and Rachel looked at each other, and then Rachel’s eyes flicked to her daughter.
“Okay,” Joe said. Rachel looked at him a moment longer, then at me.
“Send someone over at five,” she said into the phone. They talked a moment longer, and then hung up. Norah hugged me as soon as her mom set the phone down, actually knocking me back against the bed.
“Thank you, Caitlin!” she exclaimed. “You’re the best cousin ever!”
“It’s no big deal, really,” I replied as she grabbed my face and placed a loud kiss on my forehead. “Don’t you need to finish packing?”
She let me go and dashed out of the room. I could hear drawers being opened and closed recklessly.
“Okay,” Rachel said. “The plumber should be here around five. Only the water to the heater is turned off, so you can still use the bathroom.” I nodded. “There’s food in the fridge and the Stevensons are coming over in the morning to take care of the animals, so don’t worry about that.” She bit her lip in worry.
“I’ll be fine,” I told her. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”
Rachel nodded, smiled, and wrapped me in a hug and then Joe stood up and wrapped the both of us in a hug—I resisted the urge to wriggle away. Finally he set us down and Rachel went back to packing. Joe and I went downstairs and laid towels over the portions of the floor that had gotten wet and then set up a few rotating fans to blow in an arc and opened the front door and the downstairs windows. It was still snowy outside but there wasn’t much of a choice—I’d just bundle up in every coat I owned and then close everything up once the sun set or the plumber showed up; whichever came first.
“It’s ten!” Rachel called up the stairs from the kitchen a while later.
There was a muffled “ready!” from Norah’s bedroom and then she was bounding down the stairs and everyone was gathered in the kitchen. Norah gave me another hug and whispered “thank you” in my ear and then everyone was stuffing last-minute things into the truck and then stuffing themselves into the truck and starting the engine and waving good-bye and driving away.
I had a few empty hours staring me in the face and I was going to use it to nap like a pro. I curled up on the couch under three blankets and conked out.
I woke up to a metallic clunk from outside. Sitting up, I brushed the hair out of my face and realized the sun had almost set—I must’ve been asleep for a while. Although, for once, no nightmares, which put me in such a good mood, I didn’t stop to wonder why.
“Hello?” someone called out.
Stuck in the blankets, I bunny-hopped to the door and opened it, shouting, “Over here!”
I saw a utility van parked near our house and a guy in a light-blue shirt and brown jacket walking my way.
“This the Master residence?” he called out.
“Yeah,” I said, holding my hand out as he reached me. “I’m Caitlin.”
He shook my hand with a smile. “I’m Tommie. I hear your hot water heater’s leaking?”
“Yeah, part of the downstairs got flooded.”
He nodded and wrote something on his clipboard, then adjusted his hat as he looked at the house.
“This it?” he asked, nodding toward the front door.
“Yeah, come on in.”
I led him to the laundry room where the hot water heater was located. He whistled when he saw the mess. “Looks like I got my work cut out for me.” He bent down and poked around the base of the heater with his pen and then looked up at me again. “I’m sorry, what’d you say your name was? Carly?”
“Caitlin,” I repeated.
“Caitlin. Sorry, I’m horrible with names. Anyway, it looks like whoever called us earlier was right; you’ve got a corroded valve here, and just looking at this thing, I can tell it is way past its prime. Probably been waiting to bite the dust for a few years.”
I frowned. “So what does that mean in terms of fixing it?”
He laughed and took his hat off, running his fingers through his hair as he stood up. “There’s no fixing it; you’ll need a new one. Now I don’t have a spare water heater just lying in my van, but I can remove this one for you.”
“Is that really necessary?” I asked, blanching. “I mean, you really can’t fix it?”
He gave me a sheepish half smile. “’Fraid not.”
I sighed and rubbed my hands over my face. I didn’t know a lot about water heaters, but replacing one had to be expensive.
“How much will all this cost?”
He stuffed his hands in his pocket, looking embarrassed to be talking to a girl about money. “Well, for me to remove it today and take it away will be about two hundred. To replace it could be anywhere from seven hundred to a thousand depending on what unit you get.”
I choked. He looked embarrassed. “If it could be avoided, I’d tell you that, but this sucker’s dead.”
I sighed. “Well, all right. You said you can remove it?”
“Yes, ma’am; just show me where the water controls and power breaker are.”
“It’s just Caitlin,” I said, leading Tommie into the hallway to show him the master panel.
“Caitlin,” he repeated with an embarrassed smile, and I couldn’t help but smile back. He switched off the power to the laundry room.
“I’m just gonna go get my toolbox,” he said, and headed out the front door.
While he was gone, I texted Rachel and Joe to tell them the plumber had arrived and that he was working on the water heater. Rachel texted back and said that they were still driving, and thanked me again for staying behind.
Tommie came back in with a big metal toolbox. “Can you go through the house and turn on all the hot water spigots?” he asked, sliding his jacket off. “It’ll relieve pressure in the tank, and then we’ll run a hose in here and drain all the excess water outside.”
I nodded and w
ent through the house to do what he’d asked while he went back into the laundry room, and then I went back down to watch him work since it somehow felt rude to just ignore him. He was crouched on the floor, reaching behind the water heater with both arms, the short-sleeved utility shirt straining across his back and shoulders, and I had to admit there was something to be said for working men.
“Do you need any help?” I called.
“Nah, I’m fine; just trying to locate your drain valve. And I think”—his voice trailed off and then came back—“I got it.”
He turned around to face me with a triumphant smile. “All right; let me just go grab a hose from the van and we can start draining.”
He hurried back to his truck and returned with what looked like a garden hose, and attached it to what I assumed was the drain valve he said he’d located. I ran it through the open window to the snow-covered lawn outside.
“You ready?” he called.
“Yep.”
I heard a gurgling sound, and then hot water poured from the hose into the snow, causing it to melt and steam.
“This’ll take a few minutes, then I can get started on disconnecting the pipes.”
I nodded, and my stomach rumbled loudly. “Sorry,” I mumbled, embarrassed.
“That’s all right; I’m getting hungry myself.”
“You want some dinner? I was going to make something anyway, and it seems like this’ll take a while.”
He looked torn. “Well, that’s real nice, but I don’t want to be a bother.”
I shrugged. “I’m cooking anyway. It’s not hard to make a little more.”
He hesitated a moment longer. “All right; I’d like that.”
“Do you eat meat?” I asked, then realized that sounded rude. “I mean, are you a vegetarian or anything? I was going to make burgers.”
He laughed. “No—definitely not a vegetarian.”
I headed into the kitchen, pulled out the frying pan, and started cooking bacon. Periodically, I heard clunks and clanks from the laundry room, and occasionally saw him step out to his truck. Every time he passed he’d smile and do this funny little half bow.
While the burgers were finishing up, I pulled out the bread and a bunch of condiments and plates and silverware and set the table, figuring we could be at least somewhat civilized.
I went over to the laundry room and leaned against the door frame. “How’s it going?”
He was lying on his back with his hands reaching under the water heater, a determined look on his face.
“This is a really old unit. I’ve never seen one this ornery before; these screws are practically melted to the frame.”
His arms strained and his whole body seemed to hum with tension as he tried to turn a wrench at a very awkward and uncomfortable angle on the underside of the heater.
“Would you like a break? Dinner’s just about ready.”
He let his arms fall on his stomach and smiled up at me. “Sounds great.”
I smiled back as he heaved himself up and followed me into the kitchen. It was well past dark now, and I went to close the front door and the windows. “There’s cold soda and other drinks in the fridge; grab whatever you’d like.”
He turned to the sink and washed his hands and then poured himself a glass of orange juice from the fridge. I closed the last window and came back, flipping each bacon-and-cheese-covered burger onto a bun. He waited until I sat down before he allowed himself to sit, and then took his hat off out of politeness. I couldn’t help but smile.
I was about to eat when I saw him close his eyes and bow his head, so I waited for him to finish praying.
We ate in silence for a few moments. Finally, he cleared his throat. “So what are you studying?”
I looked at him strangely. “Lots of things…”
Now he looked at me strangely. “Where do you go?”
“Warren County,” I replied.
“Oh,” he said, looking surprised. “I’m sorry; I assumed you were in college. You don’t look like a high school student.”
“Oh, well…” I trailed off, feeling kind of embarrassed and flattered at the same time. “Where do you go?”
“Schenectady Community College, part time. I do this to pay for tuition. Do you have any plans after high school?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure, exactly. I might have an internship waiting for me, but…”
“What?”
But with Adrian and I no longer “dating” I had no idea if the internship was still available. And it felt pretentious to say that I wanted to be a clothing designer, at least here where manual labor was the norm.
“Come on, it can’t be that embarrassing.”
I rolled my eyes. “All right, I want to be a designer.”
“Really?” He looked surprised, but not in a condescending way. “Are you any good?”
I shrugged. “I’m not sure. My mom was really good, and she taught me everything I know.”
“Was?”
I smiled in that way people smile when someone doesn’t realize they’ve asked a touchy question. “Yeah, she died a couple months ago.”
“Oh,” he said, looking mortified, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” I interrupted.
“Even so, it’s none of my business. I’m sorry.”
“Seriously, it’s all right,” I said, throat tight. I was still so tired that I was on the verge of tears pretty much all the time. “Let’s just talk about something else. What do you want to be?”
He twirled his fork. “I’m not sure, exactly. I mean, I’m good at plumbing—sort of a family trade—I could make a living off it if I wanted, I just don’t really think it’s what I’m supposed to do, you know? And my dad, he really wanted me to take over the business, and I feel like since…” His voice trailed off and he looked far away for a few moments.
I stared at him. “You all right?”
“What?” He looked back at me like he’d forgotten I was there. “Oh, yeah. I just…”
I frowned. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, I feel weird saying this after you mentioned your mom, but my family, uh … died. In a car accident, just before Christmas. My mom and dad and my little brother. It was snowy and this idiot tourist…” He shook his head. “I don’t normally think about it, because if I think about it, it’s just too hard. Like if I remember how it used to be, I can’t move. Just sort of caught me by surprise there. Sorry.”
“No,” I breathed, feeling the lump in my throat grow, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. They’re in a better place now. And I get by. It’s all right.”
He smiled and I noticed his food was gone.
“You done?”
He nodded, swallowing a few times.
I reached for his plate, but he stood up quickly and grabbed mine. “You cooked dinner; the least I can do is clear the table.”
I nodded, and then started washing the frying pan and utensils as he brought everything over to the sink. We worked side by side for a few minutes in silence. When he didn’t have anything else to do, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and I turned to him.
“Tommie, I’m really sorry. About your family.”
He smiled a sad half smile. “I am, too. For you.”
My eyes were watering so I turned to the sink and continued washing plates. He passed behind me and went back to the laundry room. I followed him a minute later, since weren’t that many dishes to clean. Tommie was hard at work on the water heater, concentrating on the pipes. He looked up when I walked in.
“You need anything else?” I asked.
He stood up slowly, his eyes fluttering from me to the water heater and back. He cleared his throat. “Y’know, I may be forward by asking this, but I honest to God haven’t touched anyone since my parents and Jake died. I’ve forgotten…” He laughed nervously, but it was a sad sound. “I’ve forgotten what it feels like. Could—that is, would you mind if I hug
ged you?”
A part of me thought the whole situation was absurd, but the larger part of me knew what he was talking about. I’d felt this exact way after my mom died. I nodded and he took a step forward. Slowly, he raised his arms, placing them gently around my shoulders like I’d break. He let out a breath and let the weight of his arms pull me closer, resting his cheek lightly on top of my head. I hugged him back because I knew the price of a hug when there was no one you could depend on to hug you freely. I hugged him back because he wanted to hug me. I hugged him back because it felt good.
He pulled back a little and I looked up at him to say something dumb and sympathetic, but then his lips were on mine and I was dizzy and confused and we just stood like that for a moment, barely touching. He pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“You didn’t mean to kiss me?” I asked, still in shock.
“No. Well, I mean, I definitely wanted to, I just didn’t mean to actually do it.”
But he was still holding on to me. And I was still holding on to him.
He looked at me again, and for some reason, I didn’t look away. The moment became heavy, and he leaned down once more.
And once again, I didn’t stop him.
He pulled me gently against him and I returned the kiss very, very slowly. Far away, I could hear my phone ringing. I ran my hands up his back, feeling the rippling muscles that came from hard labor, from real work, and he kissed me again and backed me up against the wall and held me pinned there with his body and I didn’t mind because this was what I wanted; this was what I’d always wanted. My phone stopped ringing.
He picked me up, wrapped my legs around his waist, and we crashed back against the wall and his lips were on my neck, my jaw, my mouth. Somehow, we were walking and we were kissing and he set me on the couch and leaned down over me, and my nerves were on fire and I was unbuttoning his shirt and damn he looked good and I wondered if there’d ever been a time I’d ever wanted anything else and then I stopped wondering because his hands were sliding under my shirt and lifting it over my head and it felt so nice to have my skin pressed against his skin and I was glad I’d worn a cute bra today. Then his lips were skimming down my throat and chest and stomach and buttons were being unbuttoned and zippers unzipped and I was happy because I’d been waiting for this, for him, and here we were. My jeans were beginning to slide slowly down my hips and I whispered “Adrian” against his lips. There was a small breath of frigid air and the click of the front door opening, which I couldn’t spare any brainpower to think about, but a voice was calling my name, which caught my attention enough that I opened my eyes.
