Page 16 of Just The Way You Aren't

Willow sighs happily and moves to the side, her hands clutched to her chest as she listens to their interaction.

“Irving.” Doris laughs. “You’ve got the phone too close to your face again. We’re on the FaceTime.”

“Oh. Right.”

I imagine the nose hair has disappeared and a little old man has appeared on the screen, but I can’t see from where I’m standing.

“You two are so adorable,” Willow breathes.

Doris beams at her. “Did you hear that, Irving? Willow thinks we’re adorable.”

“Of course she does. And she’s right, my scrumptious angel food cake,” Irving says.

What fresh timewasting hell have I been caught up in now? Are we really going to stand here for their entire phone call?

“I think we should go,” I grunt to Willow. “This sounds like a private conversation.”

“Not at all.” Doris waves a hand. “Irving and I were just going to watch the Game Show Network. Do you like Family Feud?”

“Family what now?” I ask.

Willow rolls her eyes. “Doris, I’m not sure he knows what TV is. He’s a very busy, important businessman.”

“Oh. Oh! Then you’ll know how to fix my stove!” Doris says excitedly.

How did we go from ‘businessman’ to ‘handyman’? “I think you might be a little confused,” I begin, trying, and failing, to not sound like I’m speaking to someone who has lost a few marbles.

“Mr. Langley,” Willow hisses, coming up beside me so shecan whisper in my ear. “She’s not senile, and even if she were, you shouldn’t talk to grown adults that way.”

“Okay, fine.” Doris is looking at me expectantly and I sigh. “I’ll go check the stove.”

“You’re such a dear. Isn’t he a dear, Irving?” Doris says.

“Not if he’s my new competition,” Irving replies sullenly.

Admittedly, there is something touching about them, but these people are really wasting my time now. I stalk into the kitchen and eye the stove balefully, daring it to malfunction on me.

The electric stove is not impressed and gives me the appliance version of the finger when I try to turn it on. The burner coils don’t heat up one bit. With a growl of frustration, I look behind the stove to ensure it’s plugged in, finding more dust in the process. This woman really needs a housekeeper.

“Well?” Willow asks, coming up behind me.

I jump in surprise and hit my head on the exhaust fan. “Ouch!”

“Sorry.” She winces on my behalf. “I don’t suppose you know what’s wrong?”

I’m about to tell her I have no damn clue but would be happy to call a repairman if it got us out of here any sooner, then I notice the microwave clock is also blank. I open the door, and the light doesn’t go on.

“What?” Willow asks when I give a small, knowing smile.

“This one, I can fix.” I poke my head out of the kitchen to see Doris making kissy faces at Irving. “Doris? Could you tell me where your fuse box is?”

“It’s in the furnace room!” she calls back.

I open a few doors, coming upon closets and a bathroom, then finally find what I’m looking for. I pop the panel and nod to myself.

“What is it?” Willow asks.

“She’s blown a fuse.” I see on a nearby shelf there is a dusty pair of pliers and an ancient box of fuses. Once upon a time, there had been someone in this home doing upkeep. I take the pliers and remove the blown fuse, then replace it with a new one from the box.

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