“Why don’t you let us bring in the parts for the bathroom, and then maybe we can sit down with a cup and go over the details. Can we come through the back?”
“Of course. I cleared most of the stuff out of the way. Oh, by the way, I’m keeping an eye on a couple of kids. Ellie you’ve already met, but she’s got a school friend with her today. Do you mind if they get curious and want to watch what you’re doing?”
“Not at all. How else would they learn? And it’s always good to know something about plumbing.”
“I’m glad. Ellie and I were cleaning up the old powder room earlier this week, so we could install shelves with some leftover wood we happened to have, and it turns out that she’s a great carpenter. Well, I won’t disturb them if they’re keeping busy right now, but don’t be surprised when you see them.”
“No worries. I’ll go out and get Bill and we can unload the big boxes.”
After unlocking the back door and wedging the outer storm door open, Abby poured herself a cup of coffee and pottered around the kitchen, looking for lunch supplies. She wasn’t quite ready to try to emulate Ned’s pizza yet, so what else could she make? Ellie wasn’t finicky, but she had no idea what Danny might like. Peanut butter and jelly? She always had supplies for that squirreled away.
Jack and Bill lumbered in, lugging a large cardboard box between them, which Abby assumed was the toilet. When they’d set it on the floor, Jack asked, “You said you wanted a plain, old-fashioned sink, right? No cabinet below, just the pedestal? And what about a shallow cabinet above?”
“I thought putting in a bottom cabinet would make the space seem awfully crowded. We’re right next to the kitchen and the laundry, so there’s plenty of other storage. Do you disagree?”
“No, I think that’s a good idea, given the space we’re working with.”
“But we should have a mirror over the sink, right? And maybe a shelf.”
Jack nodded. “They’d be going in last, so you can take a look around and see if you find anything you like. You might find a nice antique mirror somewhere, if you look.”
“And towel bars—but you’re going to tell me they go in last too. Am I keeping you from starting?”
Jack smiled. “Not at all. You’re paying us by the job, not the hour, and we’ve nowhere else to be today.” He turned to his son. “Bill, let’s go get the sink and bring it in. Then we can start roughing out the plumbing.”
“Let me know if you need anything,” Abby said and retreated to the dining room. Once there, she realized she really had nothing she needed to do. She didn’t want to get too involved in something, in case either the kids or the plumbers wanted something from her. She could go out and get some more food for lunch, but the same applied to that: she might be needed here. Laundry? No, Jack and Bill would probably be messing with the water supply, so that was out. Maybe it was time to get some genealogy research done. Or local history. She knew the basics about Lexington, but she really wasn’t in the mood. Or she could—gasp!—read a book. Fiction, intended for entertainment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. Now, where was her to-be-read stack?
Two hours later Abby was curled up on the crunchy horsehair settee in the front parlor, wrapped in a throw, and halfway through a mystery she’d been meaning to read for a while, accompanied by the sound of giggles, upstairs, and the clanging of wrenches on pipes, downstairs. Together they made a pleasant background to her reading.
It was close to noon when she put the book down, stood up and stretched, and meandered into the kitchen. “How’s it going, guys?”
“Fine, fine,” Jack assured her. “We’ve got the pipes in for the bathroom, and we’ll do the laundry ones next. We’ll have some patching to do after, and then we’ll need to let the patches dry overnight. Would it be a problem if we came back tomorrow, even if it’s Saturday? Or maybe I should be asking you, were you planning to wallpaper in here, or just paint?”
“Paint, I think. What with the dryer going and water running, it could be damp in here, right? Paint would hold up better, wouldn’t it?”
“That it would. So if we get things in place, and you let the patching dry, you could be done with it by the end of the weekend.”
“That would be great! Listen, do you want something to eat? Although I warn you, I think PBJ is about all I’ve got.”
“Ah, we can look after ourselves,” Jack said, smiling. “There’s a few things we should pick up. But we can be back by one.”
“Sounds good to me,” Abby said, relieved. She really did need to shop for food over the weekend, and now she had to get paint too. She should check on what they already had in the basement, because it wouldn’t take much for the remodeled space.
“Those kids are sure quiet,” Bill commented.
“Ellie said her friend likes games, so I figure they’re playing something. And I mean real games, not all those electronic things.”
“Rare to see that in kids these days,” Jack said. “Well, we’ll go find lunch so we can get back and finish up. We’ll clean up our mess at the end of the day, I promise.”
“Great! See you later,” Abby said.
Once the Maguires had cleared out, Abby went upstairs and knocked on the door to Ellie’s room. “Kids, you want something to eat?”
Ellie came to the door and opened it. “What’ve you got?”
“Not much. I’m sorry, but all this came up kind of fast. I’ve got peanut butter and jelly, and maybe some soup in the pantry.”
“Soup, please,” Danny said politely. “And bread and butter too.”
“That I can do,” Abby told him, smiling. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”
Chapter 27
Friday
“Abby, when are the plumbers coming back?” Ellie asked after she’d inhaled her soup. Danny was finishing his more slowly.
Abby was relieved that she’d managed to find a frozen loaf of locally made whole-wheat bread and thawed it. If she’d served the kids store-bought stuff, she might be drummed out of Lexington. “They said around one. I think they’ve gotten most of the pipes installed, but now they have to patch the holes they made to do that, and that has to dry before we can paint. That’ll probably be tomorrow. Any votes for what color?”
Ellie shrugged. “You’ll probably just paint it white.”
Am I that boring? Abby asked herself. “You’re right. But maybe I could add some color, like a border? And what about pictures or posters?”
“Can we watch the plumbers?” Danny spoke for the first time.
“Sure. I asked the plumbers if they’d mind and they said they wouldn’t. There are two of them, father and son.”
“I don’t have a father,” Danny said, his tone neutral.
Which would go a long way toward explaining why Samantha looked so frazzled. And they probably didn’t have much money. But how was she supposed to respond to Danny’s comment?
“I’m sorry to hear that, Danny,” Abby said carefully.
“I don’t remember him,” Danny added. “He died in a car wreck when I was little. May I have a glass of milk, please?”
Now that, Abby could handle. “Of course. Ellie, you want some too?”
“Yeah. I’ll get the milk out if you’ll get the glasses out. Please.”
“Deal,” Abby said, and reached into a cabinet next to the kitchen sink.
Once the milk had been consumed, Ellie said, “Danny, let’s go back upstairs and finish that game. Abby, will you tell us when the plumbers come back?”
“I will. If you don’t hear them anyway.”
“Good. Come on, Danny.” The two kids all but ran down the hall to the staircase and pounded their way upstairs. Abby poured herself a cup of coffee and heated it up in the microwave, then sat down again to wait. Poor Danny, with no father in the household. Poor Samantha, trying to hold down a job and take care of a kid with challenges. She wished there was something she could do. Well, in fact there was, but she couldn’t run a
round handing out Ned’s money to any family with a sob story, no matter how legitimate it was. Although she might ask Ned about creating a scholarship fund. She knew something about nonprofit organizations, but she’d never handled the legal and financial sides of creating and funding one. How big would it have to be? How much money? And should it focus on one problem, like autism, or should it be broader than that, like children with special needs? For that matter, how much money did Ned have? She hadn’t felt she had the right to ask, especially since he was already supporting her and she wasn’t contributing anything to the household budget. Not that she was exactly expensive, and she was trying to pull her weight around the house. She should wait until the time was right to open that conversation.
It was just past one when the Maguires returned. Bill held up a plastic bucket. “Needed more patching plaster—wouldn’t want to run out halfway through.”
“Good thinking. Are you going to start in the bathroom or behind the washer and dryer?”
“Bathroom, I’m guessing,” Jack told her. “It may be smaller, but the patching part is a bit trickier. You wouldn’t be wanting to scrape globs of the plaster off the new installation.”
“Thank you for thinking of that. But the kids asked again if they could watch. Do you have kids? Well, I know Bill’s your son, Jack, but are there others? Bill, what about you?”
Jack spoke first. “I’ve another boy, and two girls. James, my oldest, didn’t want to have anything to do with the business—didn’t like getting his hands dirty—so he’s a banker. The girls are both teachers, but they moved away when they married. Bill here has two, both girls.” Jack smiled fondly at his son. “And if you don’t get busy, there won’t be a Maguire to carry on the family business.”
“Who’s to say a girl can’t be a plumber?” Bill shot back. “It’d be a good selling point, these days.”
Abby smiled. “Why not? As long as there’s someone to do the heavy lifting. But appliances are lighter than they used to be, aren’t they? Couldn’t a woman manage them?”
“We’ll see,” Jack said, opening a tub of the patching compound.
Abby turned around to see both Ellie and Danny standing in the doorway from the hall. “Come on in, kids. This is Jack Maguire, and his son Bill Maguire. They’re our plumbers.”
“And mine too,” Ellie said eagerly. “You fixed some pipes at our house.”
“I think you’re right, missy,” Jack said, smiling. “Everything still working?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Oh, sorry, I haven’t introduced you,” Abby said. “The lady here is Eleanor Walker, but we call her Ellie. And her friend is Daniel Allen. Danny, mostly.” Abby noticed that Danny was having trouble making eye contact with Jack and Bill. Was he shy around strangers?
Jack fell silent, and he had an odd expression on his face. “Nice to meet you both,” he said finally. “Tell me, Danny, are you from around here?”
Danny shook his head. “Just moved here,” he mumbled. “We lived in Boston before.”
“Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Danny,” Jack said, his eyes never leaving Danny’s face. “So, you want to see what me and Bill are doing?”
Both children nodded enthusiastically.
“Well, then, pull up a chair. And go ahead and ask any questions you want while we work.”
They complied silently, and settled in to watch. After about five minutes, Ellie asked, “Those are the pipes for the water?”
“Yep, they are.”
“The water comes in through the pipes, and then it goes down the drain?” Ellie pursued her question.
“That’s right.”
“Where does the water go?” Danny finally spoke.
“Well, young man, it goes down the drain here, and then that pipe attached to a bigger pipe, along with a bunch of other small pipes, usually. And then the big pipe goes out of the house to an even bigger pipe, and that one goes out to the sewer, since this is a pretty big town and it has sewers. Not all towns do.”
Danny leaned forward on his seat. “Does the water come in through the same pipe?”
“Nope, it has its own pipe. Because that’s clean water, that you or I could drink, or cook with, or take a bath in. What goes out is the dirty water, and that usually goes to a water purification center that makes it ready to use again.”
“So we keep reusing the same water?” Ellie demanded.
“A lot of places do. Depends on whether you have a lake or a river nearby. Now, you could have your own well here—this place is probably old enough—and that would give you water for the house, if you dig down to it. Or you could catch rainwater and store it until you needed it—people used to do that. It all depends on how old your house is.” Jack had been busy patching holes under the sink as he talked. Bill was behind him working where the toilet would go, but Abby noticed he smiled now and then. Had he heard the same lecture when he was young?
“But you’d still have to put the old dirty water into a pipe, right?” Danny said eagerly, now completely engaged watching Jack work. “Or else the new water would get dirty.”
“You’ve got it.”
Abby realized that she’d never heard so many words from Danny, although she knew he could speak. He was definitely holding his own here, with a plumber he’d just met. Good for you, Danny!
“Da . . . rn it!” A broad putty knife that Jack had been using slipped from his hand and skidded across the floor. “Would you mind handing it to me, young man? My knees are a bit stiff.”
Danny jumped quickly from his chair to grab up the tool. Then he held it out to Jack, who took hold of it.
And as Abby watched, something changed. One boy, one old man, each holding on to the putty knife, but Abby could almost see a current flowing between them. Danny kept a grip on his end, but his eyes grew as large as saucers; Jack looked startled. It was Jack who finally spoke. “Thank you, son,” he said, and pulled the thing toward him. Danny didn’t protest, but when it had left his hand he looked bewildered.
“Jack?” Abby said gently.
He looked up at her from where he was crouched on the bathroom floor. “It was . . . like the wrench.”
“Oh,” was all Abby could think to say, as ideas whirled through her head. Jack and Danny had connected—but why? How? What did it mean? Bill didn’t seem to have any idea either, and was staring at his father.
Finally Jack seemed to shake himself like a dog, and he turned to Abby. “Let’s see if we can get this finished up so you can work on it tomorrow. We can talk after.” He looked at the putty knife in his hand, and with great care he scooped up some more compound and turned to resume his patching. But Abby noticed that his hand was trembling.
She glanced at Danny, who seemed to have shut down. It was possible that he’d never had an experience quite like that before, so he might have decided to ignore it until he had time alone to process it. She couldn’t offer him much help, because she didn’t understand it herself. She noticed that Ellie was watching her and rearranged her expression, trying to look reassuring. Unfortunately she wasn’t sure when, or if, she’d have a chance to talk to Ellie about it. And to warn her not to say too much to Danny just yet, before Abby could make sense of it.
She realized it was after four, and it was already growing dark outside. “Kids, we’d better get you cleaned up before you get picked up. Danny, your mom said she’d be here around five.” Then it hit her: she needed to talk with Samantha. But she had no idea what to say. Her son had just had a rather unsettling experience but she couldn’t explain it. At least Danny didn’t look too upset, but he must definitely have been affected. Would it be possible to ask Samantha and her son to stay a bit later, maybe even have dinner with her and Ned, so she could sort of work her way up to the topic slowly? Excuse me, but your son might be psychic? She could sneak up on it by asking about her family, her late husband’s family, where they’d lived before, how they’d come to choose this area, and how they’d learned that Danny
was autistic and how much did she know about that. That would be good for a couple of hours of talk, no doubt, but then what? Maybe it would be better to wait until tomorrow, Saturday, so she would have some time to think about a plan. And talk to Ned too.
Why did this whole thing never get any easier?
While she’d been mulling it over, Ellie and Danny had headed for the deep kitchen sink and were splashing water everywhere, but at least they’d managed to remove most of the patching compound from their clothes. She had better find a towel or two. But before she went into the kitchen, she turned to see Jack standing still, his eyes still on the boy.
She had no more time to think about it all because Leslie arrived, and she hurried to let her in. “Ellie’s in the kitchen, cleaning herself up,” she explained.
“Why? What did she get into?”
“Ned and I decided to move the powder room to the back, remember? Jack and Bill are here at the moment, and they’ve been filling holes in the walls most of the day. The kids were watching, and no surprise, they got into the patching stuff. Don’t worry, it comes right off.”
“Kids, plural?” Leslie’s eyebrows rose.
“Yes. I got a call from the mother of one of Ellie’s school friends, Danny, whose sitter has the flu and couldn’t make it. She asked if I could take him for the day. I’d met him before, and Ellie’s comfortable with him, so I said it was fine. They seem to have had a great time watching the plumbers. Luckily we started getting cleaned up a few minutes ago.” By now they had reached the kitchen door, and Ellie turned to greet her mother, talking a mile a minute.
“We were helping the plumbers, Mom. And you have to see the closet Abby and I are making, in the hall, where the old bathroom used to be. Oh, and this is Danny. He goes to school with me.”
“Hey, slow down!” Leslie said, smiling at her daughter. “Hello, Danny, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Mrs. Walker.”
“Hello, Mrs. Walker,” Danny said, but with less spirit than Abby had heard him use with other people. But Leslie wouldn’t know that.
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