by Ellie Hall
I went to Josephine’s as part of a grad school project to study the dynamics of a large family, but I left with a renewed passion to pursue a career in child psychology. I owe her and her family a debt of gratitude. But not enough to agree to marry her.
What was I thinking?
I stuff my hands into my jean pockets and clear my throat. “That came out wrong. I’m not asking to be your husband. I meant that, since we’re both adults now, we could get married, legally speaking. So the odds of me agreeing would be higher, statistically speaking. That’s what I meant.”
“Yes, of course.” She crosses her arms and nods. “Those are both valid points. You were much, much older than me.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Much, much older? I thought it was only ten years.”
“Ten years is a lot of time. When I was born, you were already learning the multiplication table. By the time I could drive, you were probably working and uh …”
“Buying my first cane and getting fitted for dentures.” I rub a hand slowly over my beard as I contemplate her words. “Gotcha. I see what you’re getting at. It’s nothing short of a miracle that I haven’t keeled over yet.”
Josephine’s complexion turns as red as her lips. “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re in great shape for your age.”
“For my age.” I slap my thigh and bust out laughing. “Oh man, I thought I felt old when I got my first piece of mail from AARP, but this takes the cake. Let’s hope I last long enough to fix that leak of yours.”
“I didn’t mean it that way at all, Mr. Kendall.” Her big brown eyes plead for forgiveness. “Can we please forget everything I just said and start over?”
I chuckle. “By all means, Josephine. But only if you agree to call me Graham. It was your dad’s idea for you kids to call me mister, but there’s no need for formalities anymore.”
“Sure. And call me Josie. I only told you to call me Josephine before because I wanted to sound more mature. Which only goes to show how immature I was. I think I’ve grown up some since then. At least I hope so,” she adds with a wry grin.
“I’m sure you have.” Now that my surprise from our reunion has passed, I have a chance to take her all in. My gaze travels from her familiar long red hair to her not-so-familiar form-fitting dress and very high red heels. I can hardly swallow as I notice all the curves along her body and her shapely legs. Josephine Child is certainly not the same girl I once knew. In fact, she’s nowhere near a girl. She’s all woman. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever set eyes on.
Lord, have mercy.
My heart reacts so strongly, I clutch my chest. The rhythm beneath my palm resembles a Dodge Tomahawk going zero to sixty in two seconds flat. I feel like a kid again taking my first dirt bike out for a spin. The adrenaline rush brings a goofy smile to my face … until I spot the concerned look on Josie’s.
“Graham?” She rushes forward and places her hand over mine. Her eyes widen as she presses her fingers against my chest. “What’s wrong?”
My ego deflates a little as I realize her shock isn’t from discovering how defined my pecs are. After all her talk about me and my old age, she probably thinks I’m having some kind of heart episode. “I’m fine. Just checking on the old ticker. Yep, it’s beating nice and strong. Nothing to look at here.”
“Are you sure? Men your age have a greater risk of heart disease. You could be experiencing early symptoms of a heart attack.”
“Pshaw!” I grumble and brush her hand aside. “Men my age? I can’t even order off the senior menu yet!”
“I’m going to call Peter and Piper and get their opinion.”
“What?” I huff in exasperation. “Peter’s an eye doctor and Piper deals with little ones. My eyes are perfectly fine and I’m a grown man.”
“Then why are you acting like a child?” Josie huffs right back. “You forget that Peter had a heart attack before, so he’s actually the perfect person to ask about this. It’s just one phone call.”
“One unnecessary phone call.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. You, sir, are going to take a seat right over here.” Before I can protest, she grabs me by the arm and pulls me over to a white and gold contraption. It’s the size of a long bench, but with miniature armrests and four pairs of wooden legs. The seat looks more expensive than anything my behind has ever touched, but boy, is it comfortable.
I sink into the cushions without a care and close my eyes. After being on my feet all day, I welcome the reprieve. But it’s only the calm before the storm because Josie’s slapping my cheek like it’s a ball of dough.
“Graham! Stay with me!”
If my eyes weren’t closed, I’d be rolling them so far back, I could see my scalp. I don’t know whether to laugh or throw my hands up. I’m not one for vanity, but maybe I should have taken my hair stylist’s advice and dyed my hair the last time I went in for a cut. Apparently, only George Clooney can pull off the mature, distinguished look. The only benefit I see to having this head of gray is a pretty lady’s attention.
Her undivided, painful attention.
“Josie, I’m fine.” I open my eyes to find her ear next to my face, no doubt checking on my breathing. Her hair tickles my nose and makes me inhale, giving me a good whiff of her perfume. The vanilla fragrance both calms and excites me, like a strong cup of joe. When she pulls away, disappointment almost floods me to lose that scent.
Almost, because I don’t miss her slapping my face.
“You’re alive! Don’t you scare me like that again!” Her brown eyes blink back tears as she sits down next to me. “I’m calling Peter. No, better yet, I’m calling 911!”
“Whoa, hold your horses, missy! No one’s calling Peter or 911. I’m perfectly fine. I was just resting my eyes.”
“Resting your eyes?” She gasps. “Oh, right! My Pops used to take cat naps all the time. He’d sit down on the sofa and the next thing you knew, he’d be sound asleep. Out”—she snaps her fingers—“like a light. I guess it’s quite common for folks—”
“Oh, no no no. Don’t you dare say that again. I’ll have you know what folks my age are doing. Tom Cruise—still doing his own stunts. Donnie Yen’s a lean, mean fighting machine. And Hugh Jackman—the guy is singing and dancing one day and taking down bad guys the next. That’s what folks my age are doing.” I narrow my eyes to show her I mean business.
“Ha!” Josie snorts. Our wires are obviously crossed because not only does she not receive my message, she laughs at me! At least she has the decency to do it behind her hand. “Piper was right. You are funny! And I do see the resemblance when you get all worked up. I half expected metal claws to shoot out from your knuckles just now.”
“Metal claws? Are you talking about Wolverine?”
“Yes. Piper said you look like Hugh Jackman. I’d have to agree.”
I puff out my chest and smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Just a slightly older version of Hugh Jackman.”
What?! She did not just call me old again, did she? I don’t know why her words rile me up so much, other than the fact that I have been feeling my age lately. I knew that switching careers midlife from being a sedentary child psychologist to doing manual labor as a plumber would be challenging, but it’s been doubly so since I turned fifty. Simple tasks I used to perform with ease, such as squeezing into tight spaces and being on my hands and knees for hours at a stretch, are now taking their toll. And to be reminded of my waning youth by someone in the prime of her life is more than I bargained for.
There’s no reason I should even need to defend my vitality. I’m here on a job, one that I’m doing as a favor for a friend. And boy, am I going to give Peter an earful later about this situation he and Piper have gotten me into. But now, I have a leak to fix. The sooner I get that done, the sooner I can take my aching bones home to bed. A safe place where I can close my eyes without fears of being slapped silly.
I take a deep breath and rise to my feet. “You know wh
at, Josie, enough with the chitchat. If you’ll point me in the direction of the bathroom, I’ll get to work, so I can get out of your hair.”
She winces, then offers me a small smile. “I stuck my foot in my mouth again, didn’t I?”
“It’s fine. I’ve had a long day, is all. I’m about ready to hit the sack.”
Her brows furrow in concern. “If you’re not up for this job, I can call someone else.”
“No, I’ll do it. I came here to fix your toilet and I’m not leaving until I do.” I frown when I realize that’s not true. “Actually, I can only take a quick look at it now. I don’t have my tools with me, so I’ll have to come back in the morning.”
“You what? I can’t believe this. I needed the leak fixed like yesterday.”
“And it will be—tomorrow.”
“What kind of plumber shows up to a job without his tools?”
“The kind who took his dad to run errands all afternoon. It’s something I do to spend time with the old man. The real old man.”
“Oh.” Her features soften into a sheepish smile. “That’s so sweet of you. Now I really feel like the Scrooge. You’ll have to forgive me, Graham. I’m not using this as an excuse, but I’ve been under a lot of stress trying to get this boutique open on time. I’m not normally this direct and demanding.”
“You’re not? I seem to remember your marriage proposal was more of a command than an ask.” I smirk as an image of little Josephine wearing her mama’s heels comes to mind. “You said, and I quote, ‘When I’m old enough, we’re going to get married. You better wait for me, Mr. Graham.’”
She groans. “Why must your memory be so good?”
“It must be all the supplements I take, you know, the ones that doctors subscribe for people my age.”
“You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Nope. I gotta live up to the image you have of me as an old grump.”
“I didn’t say you were grumpy.”
“Just old.”
“Old-er. But you’re still hot.” Her eyes grow as round as hubcaps. “Let’s pretend you didn’t hear me say that.”
A genuine smile makes its way onto my face as I watch her squirm. It seems I haven’t lost my mojo yet. “Too late, Josie. But all is forgiven now that I know you think I’m hot.”
3
Josie
T minus four days.
That’s the line running through my mind when I unlock the door to my boutique Tuesday morning. As well as the four words that flew out of my mouth last night—but you’re still hot.
My knees grow weak as I remember the sexy grin Graham gave me after I unintentionally hit on him. It was enough to give me a hot flash! Why is it that men grow more handsome with age? It’s like how God made male birds with brighter, prettier plumage than females. None of it seems fair, but then again, there’s no use “crying fowl” when I get to benefit from His handiwork.
But, sigh! I really need to watch what I say around that man.
“Morning, Josie!”
The smooth, deep voice calling out from behind startles me so much, I nearly drop my coffee. I tighten my grip around the stainless-steel travel mug as I look over my shoulder. Oh! Seeing Graham amble up the sidewalk in all of his six-foot-two glory reminds me of exactly why I couldn’t control my mouth yesterday. His very presence is like a lightning bolt, electrifying my senses and short-circuiting the wires in my brain. “H-hi, Graham. It’s seven-thirty. What are you doing here so early?”
“I seem to recall someone saying she needed the toilet fixed two days ago. I’m making up for lost time.” He shoots me a good-natured wink. “Here, let me get that for you.”
“Thank you.” He rushes over to hold the door open, giving me a good whiff of his woodsy cologne as he leans in. I return his smile, all the while trying not to stare. But, boy, do I want to. The man even makes a pair of gray coveralls and work boots look hot. I bite my tongue so I don’t say any of my thoughts out loud, but I do compliment his work ethic. “The reviews were right. You do have excellent customer service. No wonder you have a five-star rating on Yulp.”
“You checked me out?”
“Huh?” Was I that obvious? “I wasn’t checking you out.”
He chuckles. “I meant, you checked out my business online.”
“Oh! Of course that’s what you meant.” I quickly duck behind the buy counter to put my belongings away and also to fan my flaming cheeks. Whose bright idea was it to wear a wool sweater dress today? I have a feeling that with Graham around, I could really save on my heating bill.
“You okay back there?”
“Yes! Just tidying up some paperwork.” I pop my head up above the countertop so I can catch a glimpse of his face. “Feel free to start on the toilet. You remember where the bathroom is, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. My memory’s not fading quite that fast yet. I remember everything that happened yesterday.” Graham’s blue eyes twinkle. “And I do mean everything.”
“Great.” What I wouldn’t give to have a trap door open up beneath me now and swallow me whole. “Um, let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do.” He struts to the back of the showroom with a large red toolbox in tow, then disappears down the hallway.
Releasing a deep breath, I rise to my feet and lift my hair off my hot neck. Forget about saving money on electricity, I have half a mind to turn on the AC. When was the last time a man made me blush this much?
My last relationship ended five years ago when my ex-fiancé chose a much younger woman over me. Since then, I’ve kept myself busy with my career and accepted—even embraced—singlehood. I figure that God has other plans for me, plans that don’t include marriage, which honestly seems like a much simpler lifestyle. I see how tired and overworked my younger siblings are raising their families. I’m content to play the doting aunt at their houses and keep my own home tidy and organized. And I certainly don’t miss cooking or cleaning up after other people.
But it is kind of nice to have someone to flirt with.
I tap a finger against my mouth. At least I think Graham was flirting with me. Or maybe he was just joking around like he used to when I was younger. I don’t know for sure, which goes to show how out of practice I am when it comes to the opposite sex. Regardless, whether he was flirting or not shouldn’t matter. He’s here to fix my toilet, not to ask me out.
Which is a good thing because me and plumbing are two words that should never exist in the same sentence. I just don’t have the stomach for it. If we were to chat about our respective work days, I’d either lose my lunch or completely tune out. I’d be horrible company. That’s why I’d never date a plumber. Even a plumber who looks like Wolverine.
“Josie? You gotta sec?”
I hazard a glance in the direction of Graham’s voice. My stomach churns as I take a step toward the hall, AKA the depths of the abyss. Ever since I discovered water pooling around the base of the toilet, I’ve steered clear of the bathroom. Even last night, I sent Graham there on his own, pointing the way with the tip of my stiletto as I held my breath. I’m sure things don’t look (or smell) more pleasant in the daylight. I’d rather stay firmly rooted in place out here, but I can’t very well abandon Graham when he’s calling for me. I force my feet forward, inch by inch, until I reach the end of the hall. “What is it, Graham?”
“It’s just as I thought. I know what’s causing the leak.”
“Thank God! That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”
“Come on over. I’ll show you what I found.”
“Oh, um, how about you describe it to me?”
“Describe it? Is this some sort of game?” His deep laugh echoes within the walls of the small room before he pops his head out. His brows shoot up when he spots me. “You’re not playing around. Are you okay, dear?”
Dear? Warm tingles travel up my back to hear such a sweet term of endearment come out of this brawny man’s mouth. Just as fast, a chill s
hoots down my spine to see him holding up a flat, spatula-shaped tool with orangey-brown gunk stuck to it. “I-I’m fine. What’s that thing?”
“This?” His work boots make a clomp clomping sound as he steps into the hallway. “This doodad’s a putty knife. Used for scraping off the old wax ring from around the drain opening.”
“I-I see.”
“That’s where your problem lies. The wax ring on this toilet’s all worn. Without a properly sealed ring, the water leaks out. So, all we have to do is change the ring.”
“That sounds easy enough. But I hope that when you say we, you really mean you. Because I’m perfectly fine letting you do your thing. You are the professional, after all.”
“Of course, that’s what you hired me for. But you should really come over and take a look. I’ve never seen anything like it. You’ve got a cast-iron flange connected to a PVC pipe. It’s usually cast iron to cast iron or PVC to PVC. This is one unusual combination.”
I’d be scratching my head if my arms weren’t wrapped around my torso like a shield. How anyone can sound as excited as Graham does about pipes is beyond me. “I’ll take your word for it. As long as you can stop the leak, I’ll be a happy camper—metaphorically speaking. I’m not much of an outdoor, woodsy type of girl.”
“Ah. Let me guess. You like your plumbing modern and indoors.”
“Exactly! Hence the need to have this toilet fixed ASAP.”
He eyes me with an amused smile. “You haven’t changed a bit, Josie. You’re still the same little girl I remember.”