Jessica's Wish
Page 20
The truth was, she had shown up at this party determined to hold Mira. She thought Grandma probably wanted to be the one to help the birthday girl blow out her candle, but Jessica was on a very serious mission.
Mira wasn’t old enough to know how to use her birthday wish, but since Jessica was going to be blowing out the flame, she thought she’d probably be able to put her own spin on it.
As the song came to an end, Jessica took a big breath, hugged her aunt tight, and blew as she thought the one thing that she’d been thinking ever since her dad and Mallory decided to become a couple—I wish I was a big sister.
Continue the Stonehill Series
This Old Café: Stonehill Series: Book Five
Stonehill Series Book Five
This Old Café
Jenna Reid jumped back as water shot straight out of the pipe leading to her kitchen sink. She screamed, dropping the wrench when an ice-cold deluge soaked every inch of her body crammed under the industrial-sized sink. She covered the open joint with her hands but, like a fire hydrant struck by a wayward car, the stream was too powerful to be contained. Water squirted through her fingers and drenched her face.
She could have sworn she’d shut off the water, but apparently, she could add the valve to the list of things that didn’t work in the broken-down kitchen of her broken-down diner. She held her breath and turned her face away as she assessed the situation, determined not to let panic set in.
She had to figure out why the valve hadn’t turned off. If she didn’t, she’d have to sit there holding the pipe while water sprayed her face until someone—likely her brother Marcus—came to her rescue.
She was done letting other people save her. She was an adult. A full-grown woman, damn it. She could do this. She could fix this.
She pulled herself up and shrieked, her tennis shoes skating across the wet cement flooring as she rushed toward the shut-off valve on the other side of the wide sink. She dropped to her knees and turned the handle as hard as she could. But once the valve was off, the water didn’t stop. She turned the lever the other way.
Water continued flooding the cement floor.
“No,” she begged. “No, no, no. Goddamn it!”
Despite her efforts, the puddle continued to grow.
The valve clearly wasn’t working.
Rushing back to the sink, she slid to where she’d loosened the joint and fumbled with the pipe wrench. If she got the…thingie-ma-jig…tightened, maybe the water would quit spraying the entire room and she could clean up and pretend this never happened.
Then Marcus could fix it—like he’d told her he would. She could be grateful and repay him with dinner—like she’d told him she would before she decided watching a video on YouTube qualified her to be her own plumber.
The only problem—okay, not the only problem, but the biggest problem—was the pressure seemed to be increasing. The water was shooting faster. And she was certain the temperature was even colder than before. Whatever she’d done to the valve was making things worse.
A scream of frustration ripped from her as the frigid torrent made it even more difficult for her fingers to operate. Her heart pounded in her ears, nearly obscuring the constant whishing of water coming from the pipe. Her eyes blurred, but she wasn’t sure if it was tears of defeat or water draining from her hair into her eyes. She fumbled with the pipe wrench, trying to redo what she’d undone when she’d decided to replace the section of leaking pipe, saying words that she was sure would shock most people who knew her. Jenna tended toward the innocent side of things, but she certainly had it in her to drop an F-bomb or two if the occasion called for it.
And that occasion was now, as she sat saturated on the kitchen floor of the diner that was falling down around her faster than she and her brother could duct tape it back together. She was about to let another curse rip when, without warning, the geyser turned to a trickle.
Finally, her kitchen was silent save for her desperate panting and the annoying ping-ping-ping that had started this entire fiasco.
The non-stop drip had been going for days. Marcus had told her what he needed to do to fix it; he’d even bought a new section of pipe and fittings. He just hadn’t had the time to devote to her plumbing. Tired of hearing the sound of droplets clinking in the metal bowl she’d put under the sink, she’d decided to be her own hero.
“Way to go, genius,” she muttered.
Wiping her forehead—which was pointless since her hands were as soaked as her face and the strands of dark air sticking to it—she sat back on her heels and choked down the sob that was threatening to erupt.
“Are you okay?”
The unexpected male voice caused her to jolt. A squeal eeked out of her as she lurched back. She wobbled for a moment then landed on her ass in the pool that had formed behind her. A man emerged from the shadows on the other side of her kitchen. Her heart seemed to stop beating as she scurried back and reached for something, anything, she could use to protect herself.
Bowls crashed around her as she grasped a firm handle and held up…a colander. She would have laughed if it weren’t for the fact that she had no other weapon within reach. Instead, she lifted the perforated bowl in warning—if he didn’t back off she’d…strain him. “Who—who are you?”
“I was outside. Heard you scream. Thought there might be trouble.” He lifted his hands as if to prove he meant no harm. “You turned off the wrong valve.”
She swallowed. He spoke slowly, in a deep voice with a hint of an East Coast drawl. He wasn’t from Stonehill. Just about everyone knew everyone in this small town and she didn’t know him.
His skin, what she could see of it around the dark, shaggy hair, was tan from too much sun. Like he’d worked outside most of his life. The question where he was from formed in her mind but stuck in her throat. That didn’t really matter at this point in time. She sat there, letting ice-cold water soak into her jeans and numb her skin as she threatened him with fine mesh.
“You turned off the valve to the faucet, but you should have turned off the main valve,” he explained. “Rookie mistake.”
As he came into the light, she could see that his clothes were dingy and worn. His beard was full, but not trimmed, and his hair was shiny, as if he had gone too long between washing the strands that hung over his ears.
She couldn’t determine if he was homeless or just too old to pull off hipster. Either way, he’d somehow appeared in her kitchen without her noticing, and that unsettled her.
She lifted the colander when he took a full step toward her. “This may not look deadly, but I could still put your eye out with it.”
He lifted his hands, again showing his innocence, and smirked behind his facial hair.
“I have no doubt that you could. But I can help. If you want. Or you can try again now that the water’s off. Whichever works for you. But either way, you might want to get out of that puddle and into dry clothes. Your lips are turning blue.”
Jenna finally inhaled and looked at the clothes clinging to her. If it weren’t for the vintage print of Barry Manilow’s face clinging to her chest, she could have just auditioned for a wet T-shirt contest. While holding a flimsy bit of steel to save herself.
What the hell was she doing? What in the actual hell did she think she was doing?
She wasn’t a plumber any more than she was a business owner.
She’d been winging it for almost three years now, but she was tired. Exhausted.
And she sure as hell wasn’t capable of assaulting a grown man with a strainer. If he wanted to slit her throat and rob her...
Marcus had told her a hundred times to lock the kitchen door even when she was cleaning up. He’d told her a hundred times to carry the pepper spray he’d bought for her. He’d told her a hundred times to take basic self-defense classes.
She’d done none of those.
Not only was she ill-equipped to fix her plumbing, run a business, or protect herself, but she was also freezing. A shiver r
an through her as she realized just how much water her clothing and hair had absorbed.
She laughed to stop herself from crying.
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Also by Marci Bolden
Stonehill Series:
The Road Leads Back
Friends Without Benefits
The Forgotten Path
Jessica's Wish
This Old Café
Forever Yours (coming soon)
Other Titles:
Unforgettable You (coming soon)
A Life Without Water (coming soon)
About the Author
As a teen, Marci Bolden skipped over young adult books and jumped right into reading romance novels. She never left.
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Marci lives in the Midwest with her husband, kiddos, and numerous rescue pets. If she had an ounce of willpower, Marci would embrace healthy living, but until cupcakes and wine are no longer available at the local market, she will appease her guilt by reading self-help books and promising to join a gym “soon.”
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Visit her here:
www.marcibolden.com