Page 16 of Who Pissed Off Ivy Dell?

Yeah, someone should’ve warned you about that. Sorry.

I snap a pic of the horned toad on the rock and send it to her.

They’re so much scarier in person.

Kind of like April.

The door opens, and she catches me smiling at my phone.

“If you’re looking at porn, please shut that down before you come inside.”

“It’s not porn. It’s a text.”

“From your new girlfriend?”

She says girlfriend like it’s a perversion of its own. “What do you have against Ivy?”

“Nothing. She seems okay, I guess. Terrible taste in friends, but she likes Wizard. He likes her, too, so she can’t be all bad.”

I spot the huge cat sleeping on April’s bed, and for some reason, that makes me smile all over again. I’m sure Ivy does love that overgrown fluffball.

“There’s no need to repair the fireplace crack,” I say. “You can still use it. I marked that off your list, but I brought you a new showerhead.”

“I want the fireplace repaired. It looks ugly, and I still live here, Stinger.”

“You really want me to patch that for no reason?”

“I shouldn’t have to look at a big, ugly crack every day, whether I’m lighting a fire or not.”

“It’s unnecessary, and I’m not doing it. Show me the broken floor tile.”

She points out a tile in the kitchen where the floor meets the wall.

“No. I’m not chipping that tile out and replacing it because of a hairline crack. It’s not a trip hazard. Even if it were a huge crack, it’s by the wall. You’re not going to walk over that. It’s fine.”

“As long as I’m paying rent, this place should still be maintained.”

“I’m going to install your new showerhead. Is anything else malfunctioning? I’ll fix mechanical issues, just not cosmetic shit.”

“I’m going to complain to Petra if you don’t at least fix the crack in the fireplace.”

“Knock yourself out. I’ll be in the bathroom if you think of anything else.”

The new showerhead is bigger than her old one. She should be happy about that. It works great. I test the faucet on the sink to be sure it’s not leaking. Works like a champ. Toilet flushes fine. No cracks in the mirror.

As soon as I come out of her bathroom, she tells me the seal on her patio door is worn out. The last damn thing I want to do today is replace the seal on a sliding door, but I check it. Technically, it probably does need a new seal. I caulk it.

“Is that a temporary fix?” she asks.

“Everything’s temporary, April. Even us.”

“You’ve been spending too much time around Cujo.”

“Didn’t come here to talk about Cujo.” It’s definitely time for me to leave.

“Is their relationship serious?”

“None of my business.”

---