Mister Fixit

  I can’t look at him, so I stare at the floor, my back to him and all his good intentions. “Rob… I just can’t. You can’t fix things. I can’t do this.” I’ve heard of heart-ache before, but never realized it’s such a literal thing. My chest is actually throbbing with pain. Every beat is like a knife stabbing me in between my ribs.

  His hand on my shoulder pulls me around and then his finger on my chin lifts my eyes to his.

  “You have to let me back in, Jana.”

  I shake my head. “No. You’re out. You’re out for good. I wish you’d just accept that and move on.”

  “But why?” His voice is full of anguish. “What did I do that’s so unforgivable? And don’t say that I took Cassie from you, because I didn’t.”

  “I can’t believe you really think that.” I shake my head, so confused about how a man so smart can be so incredibly dense.

  “You need to let me tell you what really happened.”

  “I know what really happened. I was there. Believe me, I’ll never forget.”

  “No, you weren’t there. You were in here.” He points to my head. “And in here.” He points to my heart.

  I want to smack his finger away, but I don’t. I just listen, a ringing in my ears making it difficult to hear too well.

  “The law says that the court must do what’s in the best interest of the child…”

  I open my mouth to argue about how putting a child with a drug addict could never be in her best interests, but he holds up his hand to shush me.

  “…Just let me finish.” He takes a deep breath and continues. “As I said, it’s the best interests of the child they look at. And almost without exception, unless the parent is truly incapacitated, the best interest of a child is to be with a birth parent who is willing and able to care for her.”

  I open my mouth again, but he just keeps on talking right over me.

  “Jeremy got his shit together. He was and is still going to AA meetings. With Sarah there to support him, he was turning his life around. It was only a matter of time before he hired someone you don’t know and got Cassie back. It would have been a stranger who didn’t care about you, and I couldn’t stomach the idea of that happening. I knew you were going to be crushed. I knew how much you loved her.”

  “Don’t say it in the past tense, as if I don’t still love her like my own daughter,” I say, nearly choking on my tears.

  “I didn’t mean it that way and you know it.” He takes my arms and shakes me a tiny bit. “Jana, I know you. I know you so well. I’ve been in your life for what seems like forever. You’re family to me. I’d never do anything to you with malice or negligence. You have to believe me. I had your best interests at heart.”

  I pull myself out of his grip and take a step back. “How can you say that? You took my daughter from me.”

  “No.” He frowns, taking a step toward me and holding my arms firmly. “She is not your daughter. She’s Jeremy’s daughter. You cared for her when he was lost, but that didn’t change the fact that he has the right to raise her.” His voice softens. “Just as you have the right to raise your own children one day.” He pulls me against him and talks over my head. I’m too weak to fight him as his words slice through me and cut me to the bone. “Imagine if you had a daughter one day and then something terrible happened to your health and you couldn’t care for her for a year. And your brother took her in. Wouldn’t you want her back after you were healthy again? Would you ever agree to let him keep her, as much as he loved her and took care of her when you couldn’t?”

  He’s painting a picture I don’t want to see. I try to fight him, but he holds me tighter.

  “Please, Jana. Please…”

  “No!” I shout, finally succeeding in pushing him away. “I don’t want to hear anything else from you!” I point to the door, breathing like I just ran a mile. “Get out! Just get out!”

  “You know I’m right!” he shouts back, his face dark red.

  “Get out!” I screech, no longer sounding human.

  He strides to the door, grabbing his toolbox from the ground. “You’re hurting everyone with your attitude,” he growls as he yanks the door open. His glare carries an anger I’ve never seen from him before. I think he’s finally starting to hate me back, and it should make me happy but it breaks my heart all over again.

  “Shut up! I don’t want to hear anything else from you!” I feel like I’m being torn apart, as if Robinson’s pulling my skin from my bones. My head is on fire and a headache rages inside my skull. Sobs mix with my words and make them sound unhinged. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  “I’m leaving. And I won’t be back.” He walks over the threshold and shuts the door behind him.

  “Good!” I scream. “That’s what I want!”

  I crumble to the floor when I realize that I’m lying through my teeth and crushing my own soul all over again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I DON’T KNOW WHAT I would have done all week without all those Youtube videos to guide me through the process of repairing little things around the house, to help me understand what the heck people are talking about when they use words like cantilever, sistering, change order, and pitch, and to teach me about the use of feng shui in laying out the rooms and placement of windows. Now, after a week has passed, I really feel like I’m on the right track for getting this house remodeled in style. Even though my heart’s a mess, my life is looking up.

  I’m glad it’s Saturday night, my big work date with Jake the plumber finally here. I plan to drink copious amounts of wine, and if the estimate looks good, I might even kiss him goodnight. A reward for a job well done.

  He picks me up at my apartment on time, looking adorable in grey slacks and a black sweater. He pushes the sleeves up inside my warm living room and reveals the strong forearms that are clear evidence of the hard work he does all week.

  Normally I’d go ga-ga over hands like his, wide and well-veined, sprinkled with wiry hair, but all I can think about is Robinson’s stupid fingers. I always saw them as paper-pushers, but after he came over and worked on my locks, I imagined them as something else for the first time ever. I hate to say it, but he became more manly to me that night — right before I kicked him out of my life forever.

  Figures. And he’s done exactly what I asked him to do too, namely, never contact me again. I should be happy about it, but it’s eating me up inside. It makes me hate him and me when I should be completely satisfied with the outcome.

  “Nice place,” Jake says, his gaze roaming the room. “Not sure why you’d want to leave it for the other one.” He smiles, so I can’t tell if he’s kidding or not.

  “The other one will be great too. Eventually.”

  He nods. “I have no doubt.”

  I take his words as a compliment and smile back. “You ready?” I’m wearing my little black dress, guaranteed to turn heads.

  “Definitely. Been looking forward to it.”

  My face feels a little warm at his admission. Isn’t he supposed to be playing hard to get? Planning for at least three days of not calling me after the night is over? It’s been a while since I’ve gone out on a date-date, but I’m pretty sure the rules haven’t changed.

  “Me too,” I say, going for full honesty. Might as well skip the games. We’re both single, unattached, and looking for a good time. Why play it any differently?

  He and I walk to the elevator together and then down to the street, stopping just outside the front doors. Jake leaves me there, stepping over to the curb and flagging down a cab. I wait for him to open my door before getting in and sliding over.

  “One If…, on Barrow,” Jake says, waiting to be sure the cabbie knows what he’s talking about. The older man nods without a word, and off we go into the sea of cars starting to build as the night gets later. We’ll have a hard time finding a cab when we’re done, so I’m glad I wore my wool coat and matching fluffy cashmere scarf and hat.

  “You’ve eaten at One If By Land
before?”

  “Yes. Have you?”

  He nods. “Once or twice.”

  I smile a little, imagining all the single women needing plumbing work he’s probably taken there. I’m sure I’m not the only one he’s offered to go over an estimate with like this.

  He grins too, one side of his mouth going up more than the other. It’s very charming. “What’s that devious smile for?” he asks, nudging me.

  I look out the window for a second and then back at him. “Not devious. Just wondering how many other potential clients you’ve brought there.”

  “None.” He winks at me. “I promise.”

  “But you’ve been before, right? Who’d you go with?” From what I remember, it’s a romantic restaurant, not really one for a business meeting, so naturally I’m thinking this is his lair. I’ll bet he has women drooling over him all the time. If it hadn’t been for Robinson ruining my week, I’d probably be doing the same thing right now. Jake’s hot, he’s a great dresser, his hair is amazing, and those eyes of his are just stunning. But all I can think about is the BMW I didn’t get to mangle with the sledgehammer and how smoothly that stupid lock keeps working on my front door.

  Jake purses his lips as he considers my question. “Hmmm, let’s see… who did I take there last?” He comes back to me and smiles. “My mother. It was her birthday.”

  I laugh, thinking he’s kidding me.

  “What? Why’s that funny?”

  I stop laughing, feeling self-conscious. “You’re not joking? Oh. Sorry.”

  He smiles. “Yeah, I was kidding. I wouldn’t take my mother there. Talk about awkward.”

  I nudge him in the leg. “Tease.”

  We don’t talk the rest of the way there about anything of substance. I’m happy to chat about the weather and the problems with potholes getting bigger on the roads until we reach the restaurant. It takes the pressure off the reason why we’re even in this cab together. I feel kind of funny now that I’m out here with him. Why did I agree to go out on a date with my plumber? I’m not sure now. I think it’s Robinson’s fault. Everything’s his fault.

  He opens my door for me and helps me out of the cab at the curb. I try not to be too obvious as I watch to see how much he tips the driver. Thankfully, he does a good job, not being a cheapskate, unlike more than half the men I’ve dated. I have this thing about tipping people; I think anyone who works for tips should get great ones, especially if the service is decent. It’s how I’d feel if I’d ever worked for them. Retail’s bad enough, but driving cabs and waiting tables? I can’t imagine anything more awful; people can be so horrible when they’re being waited on. There are many women I would have loved to lock in the dressing rooms when I worked in women’s clothing boutiques.

  The warmth of the restaurant spills out over us as the doors are opened from the inside. The brick building and large archway welcome us inside like old friends. I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight with Jake, but at least it’s going to happen in a lovely place. He places his hand on my lower back and guides me to the reception desk and several heads turn to watch us walk by.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “WELCOME,” AN EMPLOYEE OF ONE If By Land, Two If By Sea says, smiling and gesturing for me to continue in.

  “Thank you.” I smile my way through the front reception area, appreciating the ambiance and décor. It’s even more romantic than I remembered. My coat, scarf, and hat are taken and we’re led to our table, a nice and somewhat private spot on the far side of the room.

  Next to us on the wall is a tall painting of a man wearing a red cloak, sitting in a formal chair. I have the strangest sensation that he’s watching me and that he’s prepared to listen to everything I say. It compels me to speak in a whisper when Jake asks me if this table is all right.

  “Yes,” I say, leaning toward him as far as I can. My boobs are resting on the linen napkin and silverware in front of me.

  He looks to the right, out at the rest of the tables, some of which already have diners at them.

  “Why are you whispering?” he says in a really low voice.

  My eyes are drawn up to the man in the cloak. “I’m not sure.”

  Jake follows my gaze and then looks back at me, smiling. “It does kind of feel like he’s eavesdropping, doesn’t it?”

  “I know, right?” I grin.

  Jake raises a finger at the nearest waiter.

  I grab it and push it down on the table. “No, don’t.” I giggle.

  “What?” He’s smiling. “You don’t want to move?”

  I shake my head, pleased that he’d be a pain in the butt and insist on a new table just to make me feel better.

  “I’ll have him take the picture down, then.” He tries to lift his finger again, but I push it down to keep it on the table.

  “No. Leave Sylvester where he is.”

  “Sylvester?” Jake looks up at the painting. “Hmmm, he does look like a Sylvester, you’re right.”

  I let my hand slide away from his and use it to put my napkin in my lap. I don’t feel nearly as self-conscious as I did when he first picked me up. Now that we’re being silly and laughing together, this feels less like a date and more like hanging out with a friend.

  So far, Jake seems like he could be a pretty good one — a friend, that is. I should probably be imagining him naked right now, but it’s just not there for me. I’m more interested in what he’s going to do with my kitchen pipes, which makes me think I need to get some alcohol in me. A guy this handsome and funny deserves some drooling over. Maybe I just need to kickstart the process or something.

  “So, are you seeing anybody?” he asks, looking right at me.

  My mouth kind of drops open as I try to justify what I was just thinking against what he just said. He’s obviously not thinking friendship like I am. Oh boy.

  His confident expression slips. “Too obvious? Sorry, I should have just tried to figure it out through conversation.”

  I laugh. “And how does someone do that?” I like that his sense of humor keeps pushing us through the awkward moments.

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Probably… first I’d ask you what you did recently that was a lot of fun. Act like I’m just bringing up interesting conversation starters when what I’m really doing is delving into your personal life.”

  I nod, getting the idea. Pretty ingenious, actually.

  He continues. “And if you said, ‘Oh, my boyfriend and I, blah, blah, blah,’ then I’d have my answer.”

  “What if I said, ‘My best friend and I went to the zoo.’?”

  He nods, one of his eyebrows going up. “Okay, a challenge. I get it.” A pensive look covers his face for a few seconds before he looks at me again. Now he reminds me of Sherlock Holmes the way he’s focusing. “All right, so you and your friend you say? Well of course then I’d have to figure out if this friend is male, female, or canine.”

  “Canine?” I laugh, reaching for my glass of water just provided by a silent server who’s already disappeared.

  “Sure. Man’s best friend. You could have one of those purse-dogs you carry around with you; you never know these days.”

  My face is getting a cramp from smiling so much. “Okay, so ask me. Figure out if it’s a male, female, or canine.”

  He smoothes down the front of his shirt and then puts on his cool expression. “Oh, the zoo. Love the zoo. Was it your friend’s idea to visit or yours?” He waits for me to smile, and I do.

  “So with this question you eliminate the canine.”

  “Exactly.” He takes a sip of his water. “And your answer?”

  “My answer is that it was my idea to go to the zoo.”

  He frowns. “Dammit. Foiled again.”

  I laugh, leaning back in my chair. “Keep going. I want to see how long this takes you.”

  “Careful,” he says. “I love a challenge.”

  I shrug, trying not to believe that he means that in a romantic way. But it’s hard to deny how well w
e get along. I just wish I knew why I feel the urge to snuggle up and drink hot chocolate with him instead of strip him naked and chase him around my bedroom. It’s not like me to be this puritan.

  He steeples his fingers in front of his chest. “Okay, so at the zoo, did you go to the restaurant there? I hear it’s pretty good.”

  “And they also don’t allow dogs inside,” I say, nodding out of respect. “Good one. My answer is… no. We didn’t visit the restaurant.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re difficult. I like it.”

  I don’t smile. “Do you give up?”

  “Never.” His expression goes serious. “What’d you do after the zoo?”

  I get serious too. “We went for ice cream in the park.”

  “What flavors did you get?”

  “I got chocolate. My friend got vanilla.”

  “A-ha!” he says, his finger pointing to the ceiling. “Your friend is not a dog, and whoever it is, male or female human, they are boring!” He shakes his head in disappointment for my poor, fake best friend. “Vanilla.”

  A server stops at our table and hands each of us a menu, interrupting the interrogation. I stifle a giggle at how goofy Jake must have looked when the guy walked up.

  “Thank you,” Jake says to the server, before looking at me and rolling his eyes around.

  I hide behind my menu, peeking over the top at him.

  He leans toward me, speaking low. “And after the ice cream?”

  I lower my menu and lean over it. “We went shopping.”

  His eyes sparkle. “Bingo. What did you shop for?”

  “A coffee machine.”

  He scowls. “Now you’re just being difficult.”

  I laugh. “Okay, so I shopped for a new purse.”

  He leans back and shrugs. “Okay, I’m good then. You either shopped with a girlfriend or he’s gay.”

  “You wouldn’t shop for a purse with me?” I say it all cutesy, and realize too late I’m seriously flirting.