“If you say so. But it doesn’t look like you’re leaving well enough alone. I saw where the flowers came from, the ones Laura liked so much.”
“What? Flowers come from flower shops,” I said.
“Right,” he said, but his look said ‘bullshit.’
The fact was, I liked her. I always had. I wasn’t pining away or anything, but she was beautiful and voluptuous, and I’d imagined having her in my arms more than once over the years. Still, I was reluctant to get involved with her. If we did get together, our families would expect us to have a serious relationship. Then if it didn’t work out, both families would be uncomfortable around each other. I could conceivably ruin my mom’s lifelong friendship with Trixie’s mother. They’d take sides, and it would turn out messy and unpleasant. So I could keep my recurring fantasies about Trixie to myself and avoid complications.
3
Trixie
When I unlocked the back door to the shop, dragging in early and half asleep to get a start on the arrangements for Allie Greer’s bridal shower, I heard a slosh. As I pushed the door open, water slid out onto my shoes. I flipped on the light to see my entire shop and workroom standing in three inches of water.
“Shit,” I said flatly. I felt—angry, defeated, miserable. I dialed Nicole’s number.
“Can I borrow your wet vac?”
“Sure, what for?”
“The three inches or so of water flooding my shop right now,” I said, my voice shaky.
“It’s just a small wet vac. Do we need to rent one?”
“I’ll head down to the hardware store and see what they’ve got,” I said, “Thanks.”
I waded through the mess, stopped to glare at my just-paid-off walk-in cooler that had shorted out and died as a result of the flooding, and found the water shutoff in the back. I cranked it and then leaned my forehead against the pipe. I slogged back through to the door, climbed in my car, legs and feet soaking wet, and drove to the hardware store and rented the two biggest shop vacs they had. I barely wedged them into my little car and drove back to the shop. By then Nicole and Michelle were waiting outside, both gamely carrying a bucket, towels, and Nicole’s tiny wet vac. I wrestled the two vacuums to the door and set them down. Then I threw my arms around my best friends.
“I love you guys,” I said, trying not to sniffle. “I’m sorry this is such a mess. I don’t know what—”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re lucky to have us,” Nicole said, hugging me back. “Let’s get in there and get you cleaned up.”
“Exactly,” Michelle added. “We got this. Armed with towels and a giant rental vacuum, Let’s do this.”
I managed a wavering smile because I love my friends and they were trying so hard to be funny and sweet about this mess.
We got to work, and I kept dialing Jimmy the useless bastard. His outgoing voicemail message kept announcing to me that he was out of town and would return calls beginning the twentieth—about ten days from now. While flowers were decaying to wilted slime in my destroyed cooler. I heaved the clammy wet vac to the door and dumped the reservoir full of nasty water outside. I was wet and cold and dirty and pissed.
I called another plumber. The first three, including one I used to babysit, goddammit, refused to extend thousands of dollars of credit to me for the necessary repairs. My parents didn’t have that kind of money, and I didn’t have that kind of limit on my business charge card. The urgency drained out of me as we vacuumed, emptied, mopped and cleaned for hours. There was not going to be a quick fix that got me back up and running in a few days. No one was going to help me because I couldn’t afford it. I thought bitterly that I wished one of my cousins had grown up to be a plumber. A Baptist preacher was nice to have around, but praying over the pipes wasn’t going to help much in the time frame I needed it.
Nicole and Michelle kept up a cheerful, wisecracking chatter for a while trying to keep my spirits up, but it was pretty hopeless. I sent Michelle to my house and she brought us back diet sodas and dry clothes and the last three towels I had clean. We changed and I took them for sandwiches at the deli to say thank you.
“I can’t thank you enough for what you did to help me. I know you took time off and worked hard and did more than most friends would have done. I love you and I owe you big time.”
“Don’t mention it. So, what’s the plan? Did the last Overton plumber tell you no?” Michelle asked.