Page 57 of The Fix-Up

“I heard he’s going to start subbing at the elementary school,” Mae said.

I hadn’t heard that. Not once was it mentioned in a single sticky note conversation. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized our relationship was very one-sided. “He knows a lot more about me than I know about him. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Have you asked him about him?”

I froze mid-paint stroke. “Yes. Sort of. Maybe?”

“You should,” Ali said. “When you get home, go right up to his bedroom door and demand some answers.”

“Or maybe just casually bring it up next time you see him,” Mae said dryly.

“Fine,” Ali muttered. “Do that.”

“Maybe I will,” I said. I set my roller down and hopped off the ladder. “Is it time to eat yet? You bribed me with pizza and cheesecake.”

“God, yes. Let’s go eat,” Mae said.

TWENTY-TWO

Love is hugging.

—HYRUM, AGE 3

I glided into the living room and spun in a circle to show off my yellow polka-dot skirt. I’d paired it with a wide-collared white sweater that hung off one shoulder, and the wedges that added an extra two inches to my height. I wanted to look like I cared, especially since this was the first of the three blind dates Ali and Mae had arranged for me.

Honestly though, my heart wasn’t in it. I hadn’t been joking when I said I was ready to give up dating. After a nice, long break, maybe my man picker would recalibrate.

“Okay, O, what do you think? On a scale of one to ten, how’s this for a first date outfit?” Yes, I was asking my six-year-old for fashion advice. He’s been my right-hand man his entire life. Who else would I ask?

But Oliver wasn’t sitting on the couch where I’d left him with his encyclopedia of dinosaurs. Nope, he was over by the window next to Gil who was on his knees trying to pry the window open. It was one of many in this house that had been paintedshut. Since moving in, Gil had been on a mission to fix them. Something about a fire hazard, but I’d been too busy staring to listen.

Gil and Oliver had developed a bit of a relationship over the last couple of weeks. If Gil made an appearance, Oliver was sure to be following him around. For his part, Gil was good with him, patient and soft-spoken. It was sweet to see the two of them with their heads bent over a dinosaur book or Oliver standing by while Gil calmly explained how he fixed the toilet. No, no, that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that Gil was wearing his toolbelt.

That’s not some weird euphemism. It was a real toolbelt. Bright yellow and slung low on his hips and full of tools. Hammers and wrenches and screwdrivers, oh my.

That man knew how to use all of them.

Oliver was enamored. He’d even asked for his own toolbelt for his birthday. Not that I blamed him. I might have followed Gil around a time or two. Secretly watching him fix things had become a weird new hobby of mine.

The other day he used a wireless drill and…phew. I wanted to fan myself just thinking about it. I may have discovered a latent obsession with handymen.

Both swung their heads in my direction.

“Oh, um, Gil, I didn’t know you were here.” Did my voice sound a little breathless?

He stood slowly. “Thought I’d work on a few things tonight.”

“I, ah, have a date with…” What had Ali said his name was? I couldn’t remember a single detail about him suddenly. “Oliver, we need to go in a few minutes so I can drop you off.”

“Mommy, you look very pretty,” Oliver said, after inspecting me from head to toe. “Mr. Gil, doesn’t Mommy look pretty?”

I laughed, twisting my hands at my waist. “Buddy, Mr. Gil doesn’t need?—”

Gil settled his hands on his hips, right above that toolbelt. His eyes traveled down the length of me, leaving a tingling trail in their wake. “Very pretty.”

“You don’t have to sa?—”

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