Chapter 7 #2
“And they say mansplaining isn’t a thing,” Shae drawled from above me. She nudged my leg and sat down on the floor by my thighs. “Scoot over and let a professional fix it.”
“You’re a professional plumber now, Coach Fletcher?” I got the two metal things to separate on the wrench and wrapped it around the pipe where it looked like it might be screwed together.
I felt her try to wiggle into the tiny space, her soft body pressed against me. “I’ve cleaned out a few P-traps in my time.”
I grimaced. I knew nothing about pee traps, but it sounded gross. I tightened the wrench and decided lefty Lucy was about all I knew, so I was going with that.
“No, wait, don’t?—”
Shae’s warning came too late. I cranked and the pipe pieces came apart, water spewing us both like a fuckin’ geyser.
Shae shrieked, which startled me more than the damn jet of water in my eyes.
I tried to sit up, blinded by the water, of course, and smacked my forehead on the underside of the sink.
Pain bloomed, sharp and insistent. Shae sounded like she was either choking on the water or possibly dying.
Her body rolled away from me and I wiggled out of the cabinet, head aching like a son of a bitch.
With one hand on my forehead and the immediate egg that had grown there, I used my other hand to try to wipe the water out of my eyes.
I blinked them open and found Shae curled in a ball on the floor.
At first, I thought maybe the water had hurt her, but when I shimmied across the floor to her side, I found her glasses shoved to the top of her soaked hair and her face contorted into the kind of laugh that leaves one silent and their face purple.
Pretty sure she was choking, but not on water.
“I’m okay. Thanks for asking,” I drawled.
Shae howled, the sudden release of sound startling me again. Thankfully, I wasn’t under a sink and didn’t harm myself when I jumped. I rolled my eyes and looked back at the pipes that had finally stopped gushing water.
“The leak got bigger,” I offered helpfully.
Shae snorted so loudly I wondered if she’d given herself a sinus infection.
The peals of laughter kept coming, so I stood up and helped myself to the freezer where I found an ice pack.
I placed in on my forehead and winced as the bitter cold made the bruise feel even worse.
Shae’s laugher finally wound down and she sat up.
She glanced at me with an ice pack on my head and burst out laughing yet again.
It took at least five minutes for her to finally get it under control.
Meanwhile, I tended to my own wound and began to search plumbing DIY videos on my phone.
“Maybe it’s your water supply line,” I finally said. Shae wiped her face and stood up, coming up next to me to watch the video.
“Huh. Maybe.” She got back on the floor and scooted under the sink to check it out. “Well, shoot. Looks like it was the valve on the water supply line.”
I let out a silent breath of relief. Maybe I didn’t know how to use a wrench, but I could use a smartphone as a tool. A few cranks of the wrench and Shae had the sink underparts put back together. She crawled back out, not meeting my gaze.
“I’ll have to get a new valve tomorrow. Um, thanks.”
I smirked. “Did that hurt?”
Shae turned to me. “No, I didn’t hit my head or anything.”
I pushed off the counter where I’d been leaning, leaving the now thawed ice pack behind. “No, I meant saying thanks.”
Shae rolled her eyes, looking so much like Kinsley it made me have to bite back a smile. “I give credit where credit is due.”
“Same. Which is why I came over. I wanted to thank you for adding Kinsley to the team. It’s all she’s talking about.” I stooped to pick up my soaked shirt off the floor. “It’s good to see her smile again.”
Shae followed behind me as I walked to the front door. I stopped at the small wall before the door, pointing to an old family picture of the Fletchers. “How are your parents, by the way? I haven’t seen them.”
Shae’s eyes lost every sparkle I’d seen in them as she laughed earlier. “They passed away years ago.”
Well, fuck. I didn’t remember Mom telling me about that, but then again, did I ever really listen over the years when she was gossiping about Blueball matters?
“I’m sorry, Shae.” My hand shot out to her arm, her skin soft and cool under my touch.
Grief from my own father passing was all too quick to rise to the surface.
Being busy had done a good job on keeping me distracted from the pain.
“My dad dying gutted me in a way I’ve been able to avoid until coming back home.
I’m sure living here in the home you grew up in is both hard and healing. ”
Shae leaned into my touch, all that spirit she threw in my face on the daily instantly gone. The air crackled with some kind of commiserating energy. A shared acknowledgement of grief. “Yeah. It’s both of those things.”
Her gaze stayed on mine, both of us silent as we thought about our losses.
There wasn’t much we had in common, but the death of a parent—or both in her case—was a fairly big one.
The pain in her eyes matched the pain I felt on the daily walking by the chair that Dad had always occupied when I came home for a visit.
I hadn’t even known she’d lost her parents.
Maybe if I had, I might have been nicer to her since I came back to Blueball.
My grip on her arm tightened and I started to draw her into my chest for a hug. She melted into me, just an inch of space between us when she suddenly stiffened and jerked back. Her eyes widened, and I let her arm go. What the hell was I thinking?
We didn’t hug. We fought. That’s the only dynamic that worked here. I needed to get us back on familiar ground. Quick.
I pointed to her shorts plastered to her lush thighs. “Looks like you peed yourself, wiz.”
Shae didn’t miss a beat. She pointed at my bare chest. “Looks like you’ve already lost muscle since retiring.”
I frowned, looking down at my chest.
Her cackle had my head popping back up. I narrowed my eyes and saw myself out without another word. I had a blooming headache and a feeling the egg on my forehead would still be there tomorrow when I had to face a classroom full of teens.