Page 78 of ClickBack

“I have no idea what you just asked me.”

He smiles. “What kind of cabinet?”

“Kitchen.”

“That narrows it down to several million.”

I show him how the door hangs, using the hinge package in one hand and the other for the cabinet. He waits until I finish.

“Got a picture?”

“No.”

“Measurements?”

“I thought hinges were hinges.”

“That’s how they get you.”

I put the package back. He shows me what to measure, and I buy a tape measure and a screwdriver set. Whatever Giselle has in that junk drawer was assembled under duress.

Outside, I call her before getting in the truck.

“I need a picture of the hinge under your sink.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Hey, baby. The hinge.”

“I heard you. I’m trying to understand why you need a picture of it.”

“I went to Lowe’s.”

She laughs. “Jarrett, that door has been like that forever.”

“You’ve got a whole technique.”

“And it works.”

“It shouldn’t need a technique.”

“It is a cabinet, baby. We are not calling in FEMA.”

I look down at the bag. “I already bought tools.”

“Why would you buy tools before you know what hinge you need?”

“Because yours are embarrassing.”

“There is nothing wrong with my tools.”

“Three flatheads and a Phillips with a Christmas handle.”

“That Christmas screwdriver has served me faithfully for years.”

“It’s June.”

“And yet it still works.”