Page 18 of Worth the Trip

“You busy?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“If this conversation ends with me on a ladder, yes.”

“Boy, hush. Ain’t nobody ask you to get on no ladder.”

“So the roof’s stable?”

“The roof is fine.”

“Good. Proud of her.”

Mama laughed. “I was making dinner.”

I waited.

She waited.

“Mama.”

“What?”

“You don’t call me after practice to provide menu updates.”

“You don’t know why I called.”

“I know you.”

A pause followed.

Then she sighed. “Your daddy done convinced himself that faucet under the kitchen sink don’t need replacing.”

I smiled. “How long has it been leaking?”

“Ask him.”

“That bad?”

“He said he can fix it.”

“He probably can.”

“He probably shouldn’t.”

That made me laugh. Pops had spent most of my life believing the existence of a hardware store meant calling a professional was an insult to his manhood.

“So which one of y’all called me first?” Silence. “Mama.”

“Your daddy.”

“Knew it.”

“I didn’t ask him to.”

“I know.”