Chapter 14
fourteen
By the time he was driving home, Malcolm had heard a brief accounting of life on the home front from his mom.
Of course, he wanted to hear the family news about his siblings and their families.
Sounded like they were all fairly busy with miscellaneous holiday activities and Christmas programs, his dad finishing up birdhouses, his mom baking up a storm.
Pretty much the norm for this time of year.
However, he was surprised to hear about Mrs. Bradshaw’s injured hip and even something about blue hair.
But maybe there was a blessing in there somehow.
Would it help that woman to get over herself and her perfectionist ways and give up her unrealistic expectations of everyone? Or was it beyond hope?
But these musings weren’t what troubled him as he drove into his hometown.
He glanced at the dog carrier buckled in the seat next to him.
“Good girl, Sadie,” he said gently. “You’re a good traveler.
” As he drove into his neighborhood, his mind was on Olivia.
She’d probably assumed he’d given up on her.
Had he really? Sure, he’d wrestled with himself over the family dilemma, but then he’d gotten so buried in work at the clinic.
From cats ingesting pine needles and poinsettias to overweight dogs sneaking into holiday cookie plates, they’d treated more than their normal share of clients.
And Dr. Reiner had reminded him there would be lots more coming, considering the way people overindulged their poor animals at Christmastime.
His already busy life seemed to be on steroids since he’d adopted poor Sadie.
But he’d felt so sorry for the mixed breed pup after it was impossible to save her two littermates and sick mama.
A homeless man had rescued them, dropping them at the clinic in a cardboard box.
After caring for the surviving pup night and day—and naming her Sadie—Malcolm knew she’d be his for the duration of her life.
As he parked in his parents’ driveway, he wondered how Olivia felt about dogs.
He knew he’d neglected her this past week.
And he had no doubt she’d noticed it. He’d heard about the weird Christmas cookies she’d dropped at the clinic, but by the time he was back in the office, they’d all been consumed and, according to the receptionist, they tasted better than they looked.
He’d meant to send Olivia a little thank-you text, and he’d even tried to write one, but it had sounded so trite and dismissive that he’d canceled before sending.
But, seeing her little car parked at her parents’ house, he was assaulted by guilt, realizing this was something he’d need to fix in person.
But not yet. He wanted to get Sadie settled in and see his family first.
As usual, his house looked and felt a bit chaotic when he went inside.
But this wasn’t the usual type of happy, noisy chaos.
Oh, sure, there was the normal messiness of clutter in the living room and brightly colored Christmas decorations.
And the dining room was strewn with holiday wrapping paper and ribbons and half-wrapped packages.
But as he approached the kitchen, expecting to discover Mom pulling out a sheet of freshly baked cookies, instead of sweetness and spice, his nose was assaulted by a very foul smell.
Worse than when the clinic kennels needed a thorough cleaning.
Going inside, he saw soggy pink bath towels spread across the floor and his dad flat on his back with his head inside the opened sink cabinet.
“Dad!” He knelt down. “Are you okay?”
Erik slid out, pushing himself to a sitting position on the floor, a wrench in his hand and a frustrated frown on his face.
“What’s up?” Malcolm gave him a hand, helping him to his feet.
“You mean besides sewage?” Dad’s frown turned into a scowl as he wiped his hands on his jeans.
“Serious plumbing problems?”
“Not sure how serious they are. I’m not a plumber. Not much of a handyman either.” Dad scrunched his nose. “Man, can you smell that?”
“Hard to miss.” Malcolm set the pet carrier on the counter.
“I thought it was the kitchen sink. Your mom thought the drain was running slow, so I opened up the trap and water went everywhere.” He looked at the towels spread about. “Guess I better get Mom’s favorite towels off the floor before she comes back from the store.”
“So did you fix it?” Malcolm took a peek under the sink, but, like Dad, he wasn’t a plumber either.
“Nope.” He pointed to the standing water in the sink. “I already tried running water there, and no go.” Erik scratched his head. “I was hoping to figure it all out before your mom got home. But I guess I should try to call the plumber again.”
Malcolm began to walk about the kitchen, sniffing, then followed the foul aroma and a trail of water to the mudroom bath next to the laundry room.
He opened the door to see the small bath was flooded, and it smelled so bad he pulled up his jacket to cover his nose. “Dad,” he yelled. “You gotta see this.”
Erik hurried in, letting out a loud moan. “Oh, crud. I should’ve known. But I didn’t even think about this bathroom.”
“You better get a plumber here. Fast.”
“Yeah, this is definitely above my pay grade.”
“Mine too.” Malcolm backed up, trying not to breathe. “Aren’t you supposed to shut off the water when you’re having a plumbing problem?”
“Yeah, I did that after I made a mess with the kitchen sink drain.”
“I’ll help you clean this up.” Malcolm unzipped his jacket as they headed for the kitchen.
Erik stopped by the laundry room, grabbing up an armful of towels and dropping them on the floor as they walked. “Go get a mop and a bucket or two,” he instructed.
Malcolm removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “Think we need hazmat suits?”
“Probably.”
As Erik called several plumbers who all seemed too busy to help, Malcolm gathered cleaning tools, and, slowly and stinkily, the two of them attempted to clean up the mess.
As they wrung towels into buckets, they kicked around possible causes for the plumbing disaster.
Finally, in the mudroom bath, Erik arrived at a possibility.
“Since it seems to have originated in here with both the toilet and bath flooding and not draining, and since this bathroom is the closest to our septic tank, I’m guessing that’s the trouble.”
“You’re still on a septic tank?” Malcolm wrung out a filthy towel. “I thought the city ran sewer on this end of town back when I was in college.”
“They did, but since we weren’t annexed, we had the option to hook up or remain on our own systems for a period of time.”
“A period of time?”
“Yeah, I can’t remember the exact rules. And I always meant to get us hooked up, but . . . well, your mom got sick . . . life got busy. I guess I sort of forgot.”
“Sounds like you need to get someone here to empty it, pronto.” Malcolm grimaced at his hands. “And we really need some fresh water to clean ourselves up.”
“But I turned off the water. And why turn it back on when we don’t have drains?”
“Right now, we need to sanitize this place. And that’ll take water and bleach. I can make a solution, like we use in the kennels, to make it all clean and safe. And we need it done before any of the kids come by.”
“And since our house is Grand Central, that could happen in any given moment.”
“I’m on it,” Malcolm said.
“All this with Christmas less than a week away.” Erik grimly shook his head. “Your poor mom.”
“I’ll grab some buckets and go next door to see if we can get some water from the Bradshaws’ for cleanup,” Malcolm said.
Erik was rummaging beneath the sink. “I think there’s some hand sanitizer down here left over from the start of Covid. That might help us temporarily. But you better not go inside the Bradshaws’ house. Jane will have a fit if she gets a whiff of you.”
“I’ll call Olivia first and give a heads-up.
” As Malcolm went for his phone, he wondered what kind of reception he’d get there.
Olivia might not be happy to hear from him, and then to go over, smelling like this and begging for water?
Maybe he could just use their hose. But what about a shower?
And all these filthy towels? And Dad was right, it was impossible dealing with all this right before Christmas.
As he walked past Sadie’s little dog crate, still sitting on the kitchen counter, he felt sorry for her containment, but didn’t think it was safe for her to be let out before the floors were disinfected. What a mess! Even though he’d used the sanitizer, he handled his phone gingerly.
“Malcolm?” Olivia’s voice sounded surprised, but perhaps also pleased? Hopefully.
“Hey, Olivia, how are you?” He waited for her polite albeit slightly cool reply, then launched into his parents’ dilemma and how they needed water ASAP. “We could just use your hose if it’s hooked up, but it would be nice to have some hot water too.”
“Oh, Malcolm, that’s horrible. No, you don’t have to use the hose.” She paused. “But maybe come around back and use the deep sink in the laundry room. My mom’s in the living room right now . . . and not having the best day.”
“Thanks. I’ll bring some buckets.”
By the time he got there, she was on the back step to meet him. “Come on in. I didn’t mention your plumbing troubles to my mom. She’s already stressing enough.”
“I heard about her hip.” He set the first bucket in the laundry sink.
“Tell her I’m sorry and I hope it mends quickly.
” He glanced at Olivia, realizing, not for the first time, how pretty she was with her auburn hair and green eyes.
Same coloring as her dad, but with the classic beauty of her mother.
“Your bucket is overflowing.” She reached past him to turn off the tap.
“Oh, I guess I was distracted.” He lifted the heavy bucket and set it down, then put the other one in the sink. “I wasn’t prepared for coming home to a house that smelled like a septic tank.” He looked down at himself. “I bet I stink too. Sorry.”
“No, you’re fine. But if you need a shower, or your dad does, come on over.”
“But your mom—”
“Don’t worry about her. This house has three bathrooms.” Her mouth twisted to one side like she was thinking. “And you know, my grandma is using the sofa bed in Mom’s craft room since she doesn’t like stairs, so there’s an empty spare bedroom upstairs if you or someone in your family needs it.”
Malcolm felt his brows arch. “You think your mom won’t mind?”
She reached to turn off the faucet again. “If she does mind, it’ll be good for her.” As he rinsed and washed his hands with real soap, she relayed how her family was trying to do an intervention for her mother’s persnickety ways.
“Looks like God and nature are helping out with that.” He set the second bucket down and glanced around the attractive and well-organized laundry room. “Man, Olivia, this laundry room looks like a spread from a fancy home decor magazine.”
She shrugged. “You know my mom.”
He ran a hand over an oak cabinet. “Pretty nice for a laundry room.”
“Mom had those recycled from her kitchen remodel. Some in here and some in the garage.”
“Well, I have to give it to your mom, she knows how to organize. My mom could use a little help in that regard.”
“Too bad they don’t get along better,” she said. “They could compensate for each other’s weaknesses.”
“Wouldn’t that be something.”
“Well, as long as your mom was more influential than my mom. I love your mom.” Her eyes widened.
“Oh, I love my mom too,” she said quickly.
“I mean, I don’t love how she does things, or how she treats, uh, some people.
But I do love her. Although I must admit that seeing her going through the wringer right now is pretty amusing.
” As she walked him to the door, she told him about the spider her mom was trying to kill and about the blue hair until they were both laughing so hard some water slopped out of a bucket.
“Sorry.”
“No worries. I’ll get it.” She patted his back. “Good luck with your plumbing woes. And really, you guys are welcome to shower over here. You can use my bathroom. And I’ll hold back my mom.” She laughed. “Actually, she’d need help to get up from her wheelchair, so I wouldn’t even need to.”
“Hey.” He paused in the doorway. “One more thing. If I did stay here, I, uh, have a puppy in my care.” He quickly explained about Sadie.
“So that’s the mysterious Sadie.” Her expression was hard to read. Was she relieved or amused? “I heard about Sadie at the clinic. Of course, your pup is welcome. I would love to meet her.”
“And your mom?” He studied her curiously. Now her eyes seemed to twinkle with impish delight.
“Let’s just consider it part of Mom’s intervention. We are determined to ensure she has a very messy Christmas.”
“Well, she’s off to a brilliant start.” He laughed as he went down the steps with a bucket in each hand.
And as he walked back to his house, he felt encouraged.
Maybe there was still hope for Olivia and him.
That is, if Mrs. Bradshaw could ever get past her unreasonable, irrational, aggravating aversion to and general dislike of his entire family. As if that were even possible.