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It actually worked pretty well in my favor. We were the perfect odd couple. It was as if Oscar the Grouch had a plumbing business with Big Bird. When I came off as a grump to customers, Connor used his charm to win them over. He walked away with more tips than I did on the regular because people liked him. I couldn’t blame them.
Sad to say it, but over time, the little shit had grown on me, too.
I brushed my arm across my forehead. “Now, don’t be embarrassed, Marie. Either you can tell us now, or I’ll take apart the pipes. We’ll find out what’s in there regardless, but if you tell me now, I can avoid doing extra work in case it doesn’t need as much as I might think it does.”
“Oh, heavens.” She blushed and clutched her pearls in her slender fingers. “Okay, well, I’ll just spit it out. There are anal beads down there. Not big ones or anything! Just a very small string of them.”
Connor instantly burst out laughing. I shot him a stern look to tell him to shut the hell up as my body flinched at the idea of what Marie had just told me. The idea of sweet, little Marie using anal beads brought about a level of discomfort I wasn’t ready to face. What kind of freaky shit was my therapist into? Disturbing didn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling.
Hell, now I was clutching my own damn pearls.
“We only used them once while Eddie and I were…um, well…” She blushed more and leaned in toward me. “You see, I was on my hands and knees on the sink counter.” She paused and gestured around. “Don’t worry, I bleached everything before you came over. There’s no cu—”
“Oookay, you know what, Marie? I think we got it from here. How about you go ahead and tend to whatever else you need to get done around the house? I’ll be done in here in no time.”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Connor standing there with his arms crossed and the reddest face in the history of time. His cheeks were puffed out like Alvin the damn chipmunk, and I knew if I poked him in the side, he’d explode.
When Marie was out of sight, Connor released his laughter, hunching over and gripping his stomach as he howled in a fight of giggles.
“Oh my gosh, that’s the nastiest shit I’ve ever heard! She’s like a hundred years old!” he exclaimed.
“She’s in her sixties, not one hundred, and you’d be lucky to be her age and still have a sex life.”
He shivered at the thought. “That’s disgusting. I don’t want my wrinkled cock sliding into someone at that age.”
“Language, Connor.”
“I’m just saying that’s fucking gross.”
“Language, Connor.”
He groaned. “Sorry, Jax.”
“Just hand me a wrench, will you?” I rolled up my sleeves and maneuvered beneath the sink to get started.
“Hey, Jax—knock, knock,” Connor said, holding the wrench out toward me. I swore, this guy cracked more bad jokes than a Midwestern dad.
“Who’s there?”
“Marie’s anal beads.”
For fuck’s sake.“Marie’s anal beads who?”
He snickered before bursting out laughing again. “No, that’s it. That’s the joke. The joke is you’re about to touch Marie’s anal beads, and if that’s not comedy, I don’t know what is.”
He kept snickering the whole time I worked, and I didn’t expect anything less from the goofy kid.
After the anal beads had been successfully removed from the sink pipe, I scrubbed my hands aggressively then shut off the faucet. “Go toss the stuff into the truck. I’ll meet you there.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
He hurried away, and as I headed out of the bathroom, I found Eddie walking into the house with a briefcase in his hands. He spent his mornings in the park, reading the newspaper on his days off.
Eddie was in his sixties, too, and the wrinkles on his face told the stories of his past. His smile lines were deep, and all of his lines contained levels of depth.
He nodded my way with a small grin. “I see you’re still alive after missing two weeks of therapy appointments,” he commented with a smirk.
“Just working.”
