The Fix-It Man

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The Fix-It Man Page 17

by Vicki Lewis Thompson


  “Guess I’ll do it by myself, since you’re not paying any attention to me.”

  “What?” Zach’s head swiveled in Allison’s direction. “I’m sorry, Al. Did you ask me something?”

  Allison grinned. “Yeah. Wanna hold the bag while I rake leaves into it?”

  “Good idea.”

  She shook her head and grinned some more. “Grown-ups.”

  “Careful, Al,” Zach said, shaking open the bag. “You’ll be one of those someday, too.”

  “If I am, I hope to have more sense than some people I know.”

  He lowered his voice. “You wouldn’t be talking about present company, would you?”

  “I might.” Allison regarded him slyly and spoke in a whisper. “Running off and leaving Mom like that. She’s so miserable that Laurie and I have our hands full keeping her even halfway happy.”

  Zach exercised an iron will to keep from abandoning the job and crossing the yard to take Diana in his arms. His sweet lonely Diana. And hadn’t he been through the same hell? “Is that right?”

  “Yep. You should come back.”

  “Hmm.”

  “We won’t fight if you do.”

  “Oh, Al, sweetheart. I didn’t leave because of you two. I’ve missed you like crazy.”

  “Really?” Allison’s smile lit up the pale autumn afternoon.

  “Really.”

  “Then Laurie was right.”

  “About what?”

  Allison raked harder. “Nothing.” She stopped raking and glanced up at him. “But we don’t care what Jenny says anymore,” she blurted out before resuming her raking.

  Zach almost dropped the bag of leaves. The girls weren’t so naive, after all. They’d figured out his and Diana’s problem, and they wanted to solve it, regardless of the consequences to themselves. Diana had been right. He could have convinced them to move to California, or even the moon, if he’d tried. But he couldn’t take advantage of devotion like that.

  “You can close this one up,” Allison announced. “Why don’t you get another bag for Mom’s pile?”

  “Good idea.”

  “I have lots of good ideas. Here’s another one. I’m going in to help Laurie.” She dashed across the yard, with Beethoven scampering after her.

  Zach picked up a black plastic bag and walked across the dry brown grass toward Diana. He clenched the bag, praying for the willpower to keep his hands to himself. A few matters had to be settled before he touched her again. But dammit, they would have to be settled soon, or he’d go nuts.

  “Like some help?”

  She glanced up from the pile of brown and gold leaves.

  “I’ll hold the bag while you rake,” he explained while she continued to study him.

  “Why are you here?” she asked softly.

  “I couldn’t stay away.”

  Her lashes fluttered over her eyes, concealing her reaction. “You can’t drop in like this, like some casual friend. I’m—you make me nervous.”

  “Good.”

  Her silver eyes flashed. “We are not going to start up again, Zach,” she said in an urgent undertone. “I will not pursue a relationship with someone who’s here today and gone tomorrow. The girls deserve more than that, and so do I.”

  “I agree. Does your faucet still drip?”

  “What?” She looked at him as if he’d gone crazy.

  “The kitchen faucet. Does it still drip?”

  “Of course it does. After I had to pay to have the washing machine fixed, I couldn’t very well afford another repair bill.”

  “I thought you might have hired another handyman. No more ads in the paper?”

  She stared at him in surprise. “Of course not! I would never dream of…” She caught her breath, as if realizing how revealing that statement was.

  “I once told you I had a theory about that ad,” he said. “Want to hear it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “I’ll tell you, anyway. You wanted someone to fix the sink and paint the windowsills, but more than that, you wanted a friend.”

  She gripped the rake with both hands and for a moment he wondered if she’d swing it at him.

  She didn’t, but indignation flashed in her eyes. “I did not advertise for a romantic partner!”

  “I didn’t say that. The sexual electricity between us was a bonus—but the friendship was essential.”

  “Nonsense. I have the girls.”

  He nodded. “I think now you do, but you didn’t then, and you won’t have them forever. Have you considered that?”

  “Yes!” she hissed and began raking furiously.

  “Good.” He shook open the bag.

  They worked in silence for a few minutes, while she fumed, but eventually her curiosity must have gotten the best of her. “How was your interview at Stanford?”

  “Very nice.”

  “Did they offer you a job?”

  “Not yet, but I think there’s a good chance.”

  “I’m sure you’re pleased.”

  “You’ve stopped raking,” Zach chided softly. “Something bothering you?”

  “Of course not,” she snapped, resuming her task with a vengeance. “Everything’s dandy.”

  He watched the determined set of her jaw and ducked his head so she wouldn’t see his smile. Unless he didn’t know her at all, she still cared a hell of a lot. Thank God for that.

  * * *

  Supper was noisy as both girls filled Zach in on their recent activities. After they had eaten, he helped Allison and Laurie with the dishes, and Diana wandered into the living room and switched on the television set. A short while later the girls walked Zach to the front door.

  “So long, Diana!” he called from the doorway.

  She couldn’t find a suitable reply. So long? He breezed in this afternoon, told her he’d been compelled to come back, and then left at seven-thirty in the evening? She’d expected him to invite her to a movie or for a cup of coffee or even a drive in the hopes of luring her back to his apartment for a roll in the hay. She’d had it all figured out, and now he was leaving?

  Laurie and Allison waved goodbye and shut the door on the chill autumn night.

  Her hands stuffed in her jeans pockets, Allison strolled toward the sofa, where Diana sat pretending to watch the images on the television screen. “Gee, wasn’t it freaky to see Zach again?”

  That about sums it up, Diana thought. “I guess so.”

  “I’d say he looked terrific,” Laurie added, plopping into the easy chair. “A little thin, and his tan’s faded, but he’s really a hunk, don’t you agree, Mom?”

  She swallowed. “He’s okay, if you go for that type.”

  Allison peered at her. “What type?”

  “Oh, you know. The California surfer type with muscles, sun-bleached hair—you know.” She affected complete lack of interest.

  Allison grinned. “Oh, that type. Did you know you stared at him all through dinner?”

  Laurie darted a reproachful look across the room at her sister.

  “Well, she did,” Allison insisted. “But I can see why. He’s pretty nice scenery.”

  “Listen, girls. I don’t know why Zach dropped over today, or if he plans to come back, but you’d better realize that in a few short weeks he’ll leave Springfield. He’s only a temporary friend.”

  The girls exchanged glances then Allison shrugged with exaggerated nonchalance. “That’s the way it goes.”

  “Yeah, Mom,” Laurie added. “Win a few, lose a few.” Allison had a sudden fit of coughing, and Laurie jumped up to pound her sister on the back. “Come on, Al,” she said, dragging her sister by the arm into the kitchen. “You need a glass of water.”

  Slowly Diana began to piece everything together. Only one explanation made sense. Zach had disregarded her wishes and convinced the girls that they’d love moving to California. He’d had the chance, while they were all doing dishes and the sound from the television had blocked out their conversation.
<
br />   She considered confronting the girls with her suspicions but decided against it. Why should they become further embroiled in a controversy that was really between her and Zach? If she was right, he’d come back over to present his case, and when he did, she’d be ready for him. The Thatcher women were not going to trail halfway across the country after Zachary Wainwright!

  * * *

  The next morning Laurie arrived at the breakfast table, wailing that her underwear was in tatters.

  “Please, Mom, take me over to White Oaks. Every time I get undressed in PE, the girls will make fun of me. Look at this.” She held up a ripped pair of underpants.

  “I wish you would, Mom,” Allison said. “I don’t want to be known as the sister of someone whose underwear self-destructs.”

  Diana examined the garment. “That’s exactly what it looks like. We bought these in August. Where’d we get them?”

  “Some discount store, and see how they held up? Let’s go to some nice place in White Oaks. Today.”

  “Okay, but what about yours, Al? We must have bought them together.”

  “Different batch, I guess,” Allison said airily. “My undies are in A-number-one shape.”

  Diana frowned. “Strange. Well, after lunch is fine with me. You probably want to go, anyway, don’t you, Al? You could get some ideas for your Christmas presents.”

  “Can’t. Too much homework.”

  “Oh?” She glanced at her younger daughter in surprise. Allison, allowing homework to come before a trip to the mall? Perhaps she was growing up faster than Diana had suspected. Still… She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. Something strange was going on. But what?

  After lunch Allison spread her math on the kitchen table with a great show of industry, barely looking up when Laurie and Diana left.

  “I’ve never known Al to have so much dedication to homework,” Diana remarked to Laurie as they drove across town.

  “I guess she’s finally realizing the value of studying,” Laurie said primly before deliberately changing the subject.

  The shopping trip took longer than Diana had expected. Laurie dawdled over the underwear selection and insisted on browsing through several clothing stores to point out potential Christmas gifts. Finally Diana complained that her feet were tired, and Laurie reluctantly agreed to go home.

  From a block away Diana spotted Zach’s Jeep parked in front of the house. “Laurie?”

  “Gee, Zach must have dropped by while we were gone.”

  “I may be getting older, but I’m not senile yet. You planned this mall trip, didn’t you? And Allison’s homework was an excuse to be here when Zach arrived.”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “What on earth is going on?”

  “I, um, it’s a surprise, Mom. Don’t make me tell you.”

  She gripped the steering wheel tighter. A surprise? What did he have in mind, a banner announcing the move to California? Suntan lotion and beach towels for everyone? Well, she’d just see about that!

  “Mom, you look mad,” Laurie said nervously.

  “I am not mad,” Diana said through clenched teeth. “But I intend to teach Zachary Wainwright a lesson.”

  “Mom, please don’t be—”

  “Never mind. I’ll handle this.” She parked the car in the driveway, jumped out and slammed the door.

  Allison burst through the back door. “Wait, Mom. You can’t go in yet.”

  “Oh, yes, I can.”

  “But, Mom, you’ll ruin the surprise!” Allison turned to Laurie. “Couldn’t you keep her away longer?”

  “I tried, but you guys should be done by now. It’s been three hours!”

  “Well, we’re not. Zach had an eensy bit of trouble. Mom, wait,” she begged, but Diana brushed past her and pulled open the back door.

  “Come on, Al,” Laurie advised, tugging on her sister’s arm. “Let’s make ourselves scarce. No telling what will happen now.”

  Diana stormed through the door. “Zachary Wainwright, I don’t know what you’re up to, but I—my God, what is this mess?” She almost tripped over a large plumber’s wrench lying beside Zach’s prone body. His head and shoulders were wedged under the sink, and the kitchen floor was strewn with an assortment of tools, nuts and bolts.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” came his muffled greeting. ‘Would you hand me that wrench?”

  “Which one? We have enough here to start our own hardware store. And what’s this sweetheart stuff? We are not sweethearts, nor are we likely to be. I demand to know wh —”

  “Don’t be hasty with the conclusions, Diana. Let me finish this first. I need the big wrench, somewhere near my foot, I think.”

  “Oh, all right. Here.” She picked up the wrench and placed it none too gently in his outstretched palm.

  “Thanks. Al and I thought we’d be done by now, but we ran into a few complications. I think I’ve almost got it, though. I couldn’t afford a diamond ring, so this will have to do.”

  “Diamond ring? Zach, we’ve been through this before, and there’s no way.”

  “The faucet sparkles almost as much as a diamond, don’t you think?” he commented from under the sink, as if she hadn’t spoken. “It’s washerless so it won’t drip. Take a look.”

  With a sigh she stood up and gazed at the shiny object perched on the sink. Zach, who didn’t know a plumber’s helper from a socket wrench, was replacing her dripping faucet. Or attempting to replace it. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  “The instructions said if I just tighten—dammit!”

  “What? What happened?” She peered under the sink.

  “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean nothing? I know you, and you don’t swear over nothing.”

  “Oh, hell. Now it’s bleeding.”

  “Bleeding? Zach, what have you done? Come out from there this minute and let me see.”

  “But I’m almost done! Damn, it’s dripping on the cabinet.”

  “Zach!” Diana reached for him with both hands and pulled. “Get out from under there this minute. You don’t know the first thing about this, and you could easily lose a finger or maybe even a hand or—”

  All at once he wiggled out and was face-to-face with her. “I don’t care,” he murmured. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

  “Zach, it’s—it’s no use,” she stammered. Oh, his eyes were so blue! She struggled to remember the speech she’d rehearsed for this moment, the moment when he’d announce that the girls favored the move to California.

  “I’ve applied for a job at Springfield Community College.”

  “No matter what the girls said, we’re not —” She stopped and stared at him. “Repeat that, please?”

  “I’m no longer a candidate for the job at Stanford.”

  “Wait a minute. Everything you’ve done up to now was geared toward landing that job. Stanford is your dream.”

  “Wrong.” He took her arm, pulled her down to sit beside him and then glanced in dismay at her blouse. “I got blood on you. Have you got a small bandage?”

  She leaped up. “Your wound! I completely forgot. Hold out your hand.”

  He obeyed silently, and she inspected the cut across his palm.

  “Doesn’t look too bad. Just messy. I’ll be right back.”

  * * *

  Zach took a shaky breath. A cool autumn breeze blew through the screen door, and he heard the creak of the porch swing. The girls were out there listening, but they didn’t want him to know, so he’d pretend he hadn’t heard them. But oh, God, if this didn’t work…

  Diana returned from her bathroom with a small box of bandages, cotton swabs and antiseptic. “Let me have your hand again,” she said, sitting next to him.

  Zach rested his palm in her lap. “How about taking the rest of me, too?” he asked gently. “Think you could fall for a guy who teaches history at Springfield Community College? I know this fellow pretty well. He’s lousy at fixing things around the house, but he’s crazy about you, and he�
��ll even take night classes in home maintenance, if that would help.”

  “Oh, Zach.” Diana’s voice quivered as she dabbed his wound with antiseptic. “You shouldn’t have taken yourself out of the running for the Stanford job. Maybe if you write to them immediately, they’ll reconsider hiring—”

  “No.”

  She placed the bandage over his cut with trembling hands. “I can’t expect you to give up Stanford any more than you can expect us to move.”

  “Dear, sweet Diana. Don’t the folks in Illinois understand compromise? Abraham Lincoln was a master at it.”

  She looked into his eyes and her breath hitched. “What sort of compromise?” she whispered.

  He met her gaze and lost track of what he’d meant to say. “How those eyes have haunted me.” His lips drifted toward hers, but the creak of the swing reminded him they had a rapt audience. He straightened and cleared his throat. “We have to get this settled, once and for all.”

  “Okay.”

  What if she refused him? He glanced toward the screen door and concentrated on what he needed to say, for all their sakes. “The compromise I propose is this. I’ll work in Springfield until the girls graduate from high school, and then you and I will move to California as soon as Stanford will have me. In the meantime I’ll become the damnedest expert on Lincoln they’ve ever seen.”

  Silence. Even the creaking of the swing had stopped. Fearing the worst, he examined his bandaged hand instead of looking at her. “I realize you may not want to leave here, even after the girls graduate, but that seems only fair, if I—”

  “Zach,” she whispered hoarsely. “Yes.”

  His gaze lifted to her radiant face. “Yes?”

  She nodded, love glowing in her eyes.

  “Yes?” he fairly shouted.

  “Why not? I love you, my fix-it man.”

  “Why, Widow Thatcher,” he said, “I believe you do.” And he kissed her, gathering her close despite the grease covering his shirt and the presence of two smiling girls standing with their arms around each other’s shoulders, their noses pressed against the screen door.

  * * * *

  Thank you so much for reading my book! Readers and writers go together like PB and J, and if you weren’t reading, I’d have no reason to write. This may be your first VLT story or you may have been with me for years, but either way, I’d love to hear from you! Contact me at [email protected], at twitter.com/vickilthompson, and facebook.com/vickilewisthompson.

 

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