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He laughed. “Did Sloane tell you to?”

“That’s irrelevant. I’ll see you at one.”

“Should I tell everyone you have scheduled feeding hours now?”

“You should tell everyone that if they ask me to move furniture while I’m eating, they’ll have to wait,” I said.

He was still laughing when I ended the call. I turned the spigot back on and watched the new fitting for a full minute. No spray appeared. No water collected around the pipe.

Mrs. Carpenter stood behind me holding a towel and looking suspiciously at the faucet. “You’re sure it won’t start leaking again?”

“I’m sure.”

“What if the pressure changes?”

“It shouldn’t.”

“What if it does?”

“Call me.” I caught myself. “Or,” I added, “call the plumber I sent you the number for last month. He installed the line and knows the system better than I do.”

Mrs. Carpenter blinked. “But you’re already here.”

“I am, and I fixed the loose fitting. If it becomes a larger issue, he’s the right person for the job.”

I could handle a broken pipe or, in this case, a leaky spigot. Still, knowing how to solve a problem didn’t make me the best person to solve every version of it.

She nodded slowly. “All right.”

I quickly put the wrench into my toolbox before she found another household concern.

My phone vibrated as I climbed into the truck.

Ellen, one of the Kipner cousins, had sent three photographs of an HVAC thermostat with an error code across the display.

Ellen: Do you know what this means?

I knew enough about heating and air systems to change filters, clean drain lines, and recognize when a unit sounded like an expensive replacement. Beyond that, my knowledge became dangerous.

Hudson: Did you call Uncle Raymond?

The typing bubble appeared.

Ellen: No. He’s working.

Hudson: He works in HVAC.

Ellen: I didn’t want to bother him.

I sighed. Apparently, bothering me remained the socially acceptable alternative to bothering the person whose actual job involved the problem.

Hudson: Text him the code. He’ll know whether it’s urgent and can recommend someone if he can’t come.

Ellen: Can’t you look at it first?

I rested my head against the seat of my truck. Sloane’s words returned with annoying clarity. Helping people doesn’t make you immune to being overwhelmed.

I typed carefully.