Page 18 of An Engagement Pact

For the first time, Dan’s expression tightens—as if he’s uncomfortable.

“Not that I’m complaining,” I add in a rush. “I’m glad you asked me.”

He nods. He’s not meeting my eyes. “I’m glad too. You were the right person. You want to head for the coffee shop now?”

I drop the subject gratefully, wishing I’d never brought it up.

***

ON SATURDAY MORNING, I should be getting ready for a day on a sailboat with Dan, but instead, I’m helping to deal with a plumbing emergency.

A pipe burst on the second floor and caused water to gush through the ceiling and into the kitchen downstairs.

I was awakened this morning by Esther’s cry of dismay on coming downstairs to discover the disaster, and the morning hasn’t improved from there.

At 8:12, I’m still on my hands and knees trying to mop up remaining puddles of water on the floor, having already worked on the water all over the stove and countertops. Jim managed to get the water to stop streaming down through what’s now a hole in the ceiling by shutting off the main water supply in the house.

Which means no shower and no coffee this morning.

Dan is supposed to show up at eight thirty for our second big weekend “date,” which this weekend is boating on the lake. I’m still in my pajama pants and tank top—both old and unflattering and now damp from my cleanup efforts. My hair is pulled up messily with a big clip, and I’m not anywhere close to ready to present myself to the world at large.

Jim is upstairs pretending to be able to tinker with the pipe, and Esther is on the phone, beginning a frantic search for a plumber who can make it out here today.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.

“Oh no,” I mumble, praying it’s not Dan here already. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”

I’m still mumbling out the refrain when I hear Esther’s hassled voice. “Oh, Dan, good morning. Come on in. We’re kind of a mess this morning.”

I’m trying to shape a smile on my face when he appears in the doorway of the kitchen.

“This doesn’t look good,” he says, his eyes moving from the ceiling to the kitchen fixtures to me trying to heft myself up to my feet. He’s wearing tan trousers, an untucked light blue button-up, and boat shoes, and he’s holding a carrier with four cups of what must be coffee. “What bad luck.”

“It’s terrible,” Esther says, coming into the kitchen behind him. “I have no idea how it happened. Poor Jim is up there convinced he can somehow fix it enough for us to turn the water back on.”

“Surely plumbers will take emergency calls on the weekends,” I say, crossing my arms on my chest because it feels like my tank displays too much of my braless boobs. “I’m sorry I’m not ready yet,” I add. “I can—”

“No, it’s fine,” Dan says, setting down the carrier of cups on the kitchen table. “I’m glad I thought to bring coffee since it looks like y’all need it.”

Esther picks up one of the coffees. “Thank you for this. What a mess. I can’t reach an actual person yet at any of the plumbers I tried.”

“Maybe Lance knows someone,” I suggest. “He seems to have connections everywhere.”

“I hate to bug them so early on a Saturday morning,” Esther says with a sigh. “But I guess I’ll have to if I can’t reach anyone.”

I know exactly how Esther feels—understanding that there are people who would be happy to help but you’d be reluctant to lay your problems on them anyway. My heart goes out to her even though there’s no rational reason not to ask her incredibly competent and connected son-in-law for help.

Dan has been looking between me and Esther. “Let me think a minute,” he says. “I might know someone.” Something must occur to him because enlightenment dawns on his face. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he makes a gesture that sayshold onas he steps out of the kitchen.

I grab my cup of coffee—he’s labeled one with my name and it has just the right amount of cream in it—and listen to him talking on the phone to someone who sounds like a coworker. He’s asking if he’s remembering right that his uncle owns a plumbing company.

Apparently he does remember right. In less than two minutes, he’s making another call and explaining the situation to whoever picked up. Esther and I exchange looks of relief as we hear him giving our address and then thanking whoever he’s talking to.

“He said he’s going to send someone right out,” Dan announces as he comes back into the room. He’s still smiling with that laid-back good humor that belies how efficient and on the ball he really is.

“Thank you so much,” I say in chorus with Esther who says the exact same thing.

“It’s no problem at all. Why don’t we postpone the boating, and I can help y’all out here this morning instead?”

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