She opened the cabinet. A steady stream of water dripped off the pipe from near the top valve. The bottom of the cabinet was discolored and soggy. She took a deep breath, remembered all the lessons her grandpa had taught her. Better get the water turned off. Locating the knob near the pipe, she gave it a turn.
It didn’t budge.
Lying on the floor of the cabinet was a wrench as long as her forearm. She hefted it and tried to fit it around the spigot. No go. Maybe if she tapped the mechanism it would loosen. She reached in to give the metal fitting a whack, but then her knee slipped and she fell forward, hitting the pipe itself full force.
She wasn’t sure if the clanging pop noise had come from the pipe or her heart as a gush of water spewed out of the ancient plumbing.
Welcome home, Robin.
* * *
Another day,another delivery.
God hadn’t whispered His secret plans to Sammy over the past hours, so Sammy had no choice but to continue coasting through life. He’d run—make that biked—around town, dropping deliveries here and there. He’d also checked in with Edith Draper and repaired her front door.
The life of a delivery boy and handyman was not super glamorous. But it was honest work, if not very fulfilling.
He could really use some more caffeine. He’d woken in the night from a nightmare, heart pounding, sheets soaked. Every time he closed his eyes he saw not what had actually happened in his accident, but what had almost happened: his truck plowing over the Prius, the passengers inside unable to make it out before the whole thing was engulfed in flames.
Sleep eluded him for the rest of the night.
Sammy checked his smartwatch. The bakery would be closing any minute, and he’d promised his mother a baguette to have with their lasagna that night. After dropping off another packet of legal documents at Turnquist Lumber, he biked over to the Fox.
The dining room was empty, and no one was manning the till. Strange. Usually Elaine or Jim greeted their customers as they came in the door.
A scream pealed out from the kitchen.
He scrambled through the swinging doors. At first he didn’t see where the scream had come from, but then he noticed a pair of petite legs sticking out from under the sink, where the pipes were doing their best Niagara Falls impression.
“Whoa! You need to get that valve turned off.”
“I know that!” the legs shouted. Okay, it probably wasn’t the legs. “The dumb thing is stuck.”
He crossed over to the sink double-time. “Here, let me.”
A woman’s voice growled. “Be my guest.”
He reached under the sink, his shoulders barely finding clearance, water spraying everywhere. The woman inched out, giving him room. He didn’t look her direction—too much water spraying everywhere. Finding the water shutoff valve, he gave it a twist. It resisted, so he strained harder. It gave way and screeched as he turned it to the right. Mercifully, the water stopped shooting him in the face.
With a sigh, he wiggled out from the opening and turned. He sat down against the cabinet, ignoring the water seeping into his jeans.
The woman in front of him was soaked, auburn curls dripping onto her Fox-themed shirt. Freckles dotted her upturned nose beneath a pair of pale green eyes.
“Robin? Robin Fox?” He recognized her with a start. She’d changed since high school. More sophisticated or something. Cute, and grown up.
She gave a weak wave. “That’s me.”
“I haven’t seen you since graduation!” He and Robin had shared a few classes during high school, graduating the same year. They’d been lab partners in chemistry. He still had a photo of the two of them proudly displaying a volcano they’d constructed together. In the years since, every time Robin had been home, Sammy had been elsewhere. Their schedules had never synced. She was home so rarely, especially lately. “Weren’t you in Paris or something?”
“I’m back. Hi, Sammy.” She brushed a hair out of her face. “Thanks for rescuing me.”
“You had the right idea. You just needed some brute strength.” He gave a playful flex of his muscle. It had the desired effect, as her face bloomed into a smile.
“Yeah, you always were great at that.”
“Where did the dent in this pipe come from?”
“I guess I have some brute strength too. I tried to hit the spigot to loosen it, but I slipped, or the wrench did, and hit the pipe instead. It’s not too bad, is it?” She stood and took a few small towels off a stack on a shelf. Tossed him one.
