The light at Verot School Road turns red and I nearly drop the F-bomb. A moment later, Mattie’s shrieks eclipse the sound of rushing water. Harry must set the phone down because I’m treated to the distant sound of the twins arguing.
“It’s freezing!”
“Hold it tighter, Matt.”
“YOU hold it. I’m getting all wet!”
“Millie said for you to hold it. I have to find the shut off outside.”
Mattie protests, but I can’t make out what she says. The light at my intersection finally turns green. By the time I get home, everything in the house will be floating.
“So where’s the thing?” Harry asks, clearly picking up the phone again.
“I don’t know. Outsidesomewhere.Wherever the water meter is? Close to the street probably?” Then inspiration strikes. “Luc probably knows where it is. Keep looking. I’ll call you right back.”
I disconnect before he can respond and voice command my phone to call Luc Valencia, grateful that Mom’s Infiniti has a lot more bells and whistles than my old Mazda. The call rings twice.
“Millie?” Luc’s voice surrounds me on all sides. He sounds surprised.
“Hi. I’m sorry to call you on a Saturday.“ I hope he won’t block me for this, but I’m desperate. I know Isounddesperate. “But do you know where our water main shut off is? We’ve sprung a leak.”
“Where?”
“In the kitchen,” I say cringing. “Where the dishwasher was.”
“¿Cómo?”Disbelief overrides the word. “The shut off is by the street on the south side of your property. But you’ll need a trumbull. I’m on my way.”
“Awhat?”
“A trumbull. The T-shaped screwdriver tool to close the valve,” he says. And then I hear the sound of a car door slamming—in his case, it’s probably a truck door—and then the unmistakable sound of an engine roaring to life. “I’m on my way.”
“Me too.”
“Where are you?” he asks, confusion in his voice.
“I just left work. I’m on Ambassador by Chuy’s.” I say this as I pass the restaurant and cringe. Will he think I said Chuy’s because he’s Latino? As if the only landmark he would know on this side of town is the Tex-Mex chain?
“A-and B.J.’s Brewhouse and Buffalo Wild Wings,” I add, stammering.
“You hungry, Mille?” Luc asks, sounding even more confused.
“Um… No… Just pointing out landmarks on Ambassador.” Like an idiot.
I hear him sniff. He’s probably laughing at me. Again.
“Well, I’m on Colonial. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Okay,” I say, letting out a breath.
He disconnects before I can thank him. He’ll get there at least ten minutes before I will. And he’ll know what to do.
He’s on Colonial? That’s not far. Just on the other side of West Congress. Is that home?
It’s Saturday. He was probably visiting his girlfriend.
The thought catches me off guard, and I bristle. The bristling catches me off guard too.
“Damn.” I give my head a quick shake. “It’s okay if he has a girlfriend. You’re not interested anyway.”
