Page 29 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“Anything?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says. “I’m pretty handy.”

“So if my sink breaks?”

“That’s me.”

“Or if my toilet leaks?”

“Also me.”

“Cabinet door comes loose?”

“That’s also something a handyman would fix, so...”

“And if I, like, run out of tampons?”

He looks like I caught him off guard, and I think,Point for me!

He winces. “Then you’re on your own.”

I shake my head. “Chicken.”

He feels like a friend I’ve had for years. How did he do that?

“Actually, Icouldalso help with your feminine products, but it would require a trip to the canteen.”

“The canteen?” My eyes go wide. “Is this a summer camp cult?”

“Not a cult.” Then he narrows his gaze. “Did you go to summer camp?”

“Theatre camp,” I tell him.

“Ah, of course.”

I mock stretch, as if prepping for the Olympic hammer throw. “Four years in a row. It was more ‘theatre’ than ‘camp,’ though.”

He laughs, and I like making him laugh.

I notice a bright bag on the kitchen counter. “Does that belong to...?”

He looks over. “Daisy.”

I look at him. “Is she nice?”

“Absolutely. She’s the special events coordinator,” he says. “Super outgoing. She’s younger, and a bit of a whirlwind.”

“How much younger?”

He shrugs. “Probably your age.”

I frown. “How old are you?”

Without a beat, he says, “Thirty-three.”

“Oh wow, yeah, you’ve got one leg in the grave, old man.” I laugh. “You’re only four years older than me.”

“I’m an old soul,” he says, brushing it off. “I’d rather stay home watching reruns ofThe Officethan go out to the bars on the weekends.”

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