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“Parts are in the back. My schedule’s in my tote bag, along with my lunch.”
“You know,” Hazel said in a singsong voice, “I’m not always going to be here to take care of you.”
“What doesthatmean?” Chris and Genna-with-a-Ghad made it clear Hazel was welcome to spend more time with them in their shiny new house.
Hazel’s eyebrows gathered together. “Um...it means I’ll graduate high school eventually? Unless you’re planning on locking me in my room, I’ll be off to college somewhere and...you know...living my life. And you’ll be here, conducting fashion crimes all on your own.”
Zoey chuckled at Hazel’s repetition of the threatshe’dmade to Mike the day before. “I’ve been advised that locking you up is against the law, so I guess I’ll have to learn to live without you managing my every moment, or my wardrobe.” A surprising pinch of emotion made her blink. “But let’s not rush the clock, kid.” Zoey pulled up in front of the school and tugged Hazel’s ponytail before she hopped out. “Try to stay out of trouble today, okay?”
Hazel shrugged as she stood. “I don’t start it, but I’ll finish it if anyone...”
Zoey held up her hand. “Take the high road, Hazel. I can’t get called off a job again, and you need to be in class.” She pointed at her daughter. “I mean it. No more punching people.”
“As a wise woman once said...” Hazel wagged her eyebrows playfully. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She turned to jog into the school.
“Lord, give me strength,” Zoey muttered as she pulled away from the curb. There were times when she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or ground the kid.
Her first service call was at a waterfront property past Brady College. It was a new client for Hartford Fix-It, but it sounded like an easy enough job—a sink disposal wasn’t working. Probably a clog—her guess was potato skins, but sometimes shrimp shells could cause the same problem. Both tended to congeal and get hung up in the trap below the disposal if it wasn’t flushed out with enough water.
She was a little surprised they hadn’t called a plumber, until she noted the address—next door to her godmother Vickie Pendergast’s home. Odds were Vickie had strong-armed her neighbor into using Hartford’s Fix-It. Vickie was a force of nature, and one of Zoey’s most ardent word-of-mouth advertisers in Rendezvous Falls.
She turned onto Main Street, noting the summer flower baskets had been hung on the old-fashioned lampposts. The downtown committee had clearly been busy getting the town ready for tourist season. It seemed a little early for the petunias and geraniums to appear. May was the start of the greening and blooming season, but snow—or at least frost—was still a real possibility. Upstate New York weather wasn’t for the faint of heart.
Evie Hudson was sweeping the sidewalk in front of her family’s diner, The Spot. Her newborn daughter, Evelyn, was strapped to her chest in a canvas carrier. Zoey tapped her horn and waved. Maybe she’d have time for a quick lunch later. Evie and her mom always had the best gossip.
A few minutes later, she parked the truck in front of a large, modern waterfront home. She grimaced at all the glass and stark edges. This stretch of Lake Road was more upscale than most neighborhoods in Rendezvous Falls, and the Victorian homes were closer to being actual mansions than the houses in town. But sometimes people bought them just for the waterfront property, and if they weren’t from Rendezvous Falls—or had no appreciation for the style that made the town famous—they tore down the grand old home that stood there originally and built new. In this case, they’d builtnew-new. Modern new. No character new. Ugly new.
The stocky, bald man who answered the door seemed surprised. She’d been doing this long enough to recognize the look. Someone clearly wasn’t expecting a woman repairperson. She plastered on her brightest smile.
“Hi! I’m Zoey Hartford. I’m here to look at a disposal?”
The man’s mouth opened, then snapped shut before he finally spoke. “I’m Jack Nelson. You’re the repairman?”
No, I’m his secretary...
She pointed to the patch on the cap she’d tucked her hair under. “I prefer repairperson, but whatever works.” She moved forward and he stepped aside to let her in. “Point me to your kitchen.”
One lesson she’d learned was that it was better to get inside and get busy, rather than stand at the door defending herself. She followed Nelson to the kitchen. He was going to be a hoverer. And probably an armchair expert, too. It was tough for some men to admit to a woman that there was a “manly” household task they couldn’t do. Like unclogging a disposal.
“It’s not clogged,” he assured her. “But the thing won’t drain. It eventually empties, but it takes a long time.”
It’s definitely clogged.
She’d also learned not to argue before starting the job. It was a waste of time, especially withmanly men. Instead, she took a quick peek inside the disposal with her penlight, then turned on the water and waited until it reached the top of the disposal. She hit the switch. The machine sounded fine, but the water wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure. The problem was in the trap beneath it. An awkward job to get to, but not complicated.
Jack cleared his throat. “Vickie Pendergast insisted your company could fix this, but if you can’t, I understand...”
She ignored the not-so-subtle hint that she should give up and leave. Instead, she opened the lower cupboard and sat on the floor, her toolbox within reach.
“No worries, Mr. Nelson. I’ll have this cleared in a jiffy.” She’d brought in a small black pail to catch the water, and slid it under the curved drainpipe.
“Call me Jack. You won’t need a bucket,” Jack said with a great deal of confidence. “It’s not clogged.”
“Well, I like to rule out the easy fixes first. The disposal itself looks and sounds fine, so let’s take a quick look at the trap.”
Which I know is clogged.
A few minutes later, Zoey’s nose wrinkled as she pulled a gluey glob of potato skins—nailed it!—from the pipe directly under the disposal. She ran her rubber-gloved fingers around the inside of the PVC pipe to make sure she’d gotten it all, then reassembled everything. Before saying a word to Jack, she turned on the faucet. Water flowed freely before, during andafterrunning the disposal.
