Satisfied, I take my time in checking every last element of the dryer, removing all the lint I can see, and ensuring it’ll continue working safely for Ella for the foreseeable future. I quietly clean up the space, then shuffle out to the main living space. I find Ella and Gianna quietly talking on the couch. The baby appears to be napping in Gianna’s arms, and the little boy sits at Ella’s feet, eyes focused on the television.
“Uh, they’re fixed.”
Ella jumps up. “Really? What was it? Both of them? I can do laundry?”
I struggle to withhold my smile. “The washer had a hose that was full of detergent gunk, and the drain hose was jammed too far into the standpipe. Once I fixed those two things, it works fine. The dryer was a tripped breaker.”
Her look of sheer confusion makes me snicker. “I don’t understand. The dryer was working, just not heating.”
“Dryers work on two breakers. The tripped one controlled the heating element. The other one was fine.”
Her eyes close in frustration. “I hate living here. Stuff like this happens all the time.”
“Why live here then?” I blurt out.
“Because it was Ember’s place. It made more sense for me to move in here than for the kids to move in with me. Besides, this is bigger than my place. Not that I can afford it,” she grumbles.
“How many bedrooms is this?” I ask, looking around. It’s a good space. Probably close to fifteen hundred square feet.
“It’s three, but one is tiny.” A loud noise sounds from above, making me wince. “What the hell was that?”
Ella rolls her eyes. “That’s Jeremy. He’s an idiot. Mostly harmless.”
“Mostly?”
“I mean, he’s suggested some things to me, but I shut him down every time. And sometimes he knocks on the door in the middle of the night.”
“Have you called the police?” Gia asks.
“No. I’m telling you, he’s harmless.” Ella stares defiantly at me, arms crossed over her chest, her chin jutted out. I fight a smirk as I study her. This is the Ella I remember. The one who had stubbornness as she fought for things, and people, she believed in. It’s a stark reminder of my past, and my smirk dies as I’m reminded of how different we are now. She’s a mom, and I’m a fragment of the man I used to be.
“What else is broken here?” I ask curtly.
“Not much, really. Nothing I can’t manage.”
I growl in frustration. “Ladybug, that’s not what I asked you.”
Her eyes widen at the nickname. The nickname I gave her our senior year of high school. She’d been obsessed with finding ladybugs, and they always brought her such happiness. Since red had always been her signature color of choice, calling her Ladybug was fitting.
“I’m sorry —” I begin, but she cuts me off.
“No. You don’t get to call me that right now. I do not have the headspace to deal with that. I’m doing fine, Leo. I’m managing. Don’t think you can come in here and be a knight in shining armor. I know rescuing the little guy has been your life’smission, but I don’t need rescuing.” Her eyes shine with a sheen of tears, but there’s fury in her gaze. Honestly, I’d rather her look at me in anger, then look at me with a dull look of sadness and surrender.
So I decide to poke the bear. “Your fridge is making an odd sound, and your kitchen faucet drips. Multiple cabinet doors aren’t hung properly, and I bet if I looked closer, I’d find wiring problems in the light above my head, because it sounds weird.”
Ella’s eyes narrow. “You cannot tell if a light is wired wrong by its sound.”
I shrug. “Didn’t know you were moonlighting as an electrician.”
“I’m not. Areyou?”
“I have more experience than you,” I point out.
“But you’re still not a licensed electrician. I can call someone to fix it if it becomes a problem.”
“For free?” I ask. I feel a hand latch on to one of my fingers, and I look down to find the boy staring up at me. “What’s up?”
“How do you know when a sound means something bad?” he asks.
