Page 42 of Just The Way You Aren't

“See you soon,” I promise. I quickly gather up six more Dum-Dums and head back to Mrs. Steinburg’s door. “Here you go,” I say to the children, who snatch them out of my hands like adorable little piranhas.

“What do you say to Miss Willow?” Mrs. Steinburg prompts them sternly.

“Thank you!” they say in unison before rushing back into the house.

“I’ll figure something out for Kevin,” I promise. “But right now, I need to go. I think our toilet at the office may have exploded.”

Mrs. Steinburg’s eyes widen. “Oh dear. Do you have a plumber?”

“No, unfortunately. They’re all busy until Wednesday.” I sigh. In that moment, I consider calling Damien, then dismiss the idea. I can’t go running to him every time there’s a problem. Not only that, but he might think I’m manufacturing an excuse to see him.

If he wanted to reach out, he would have. If the sex was as good for him as it was for me, he probably would have sent me some sort of text to reassure me somehow or to say he was sorry for packing me up and sending me home via his driver and not taking me himself. The fact is he hasn’t done any of those things. Every hour that’s passed stings more and rings with the cold, hard truth.

That night didn’t mean anything to him.

So, I can’t go to him asking for help. Silver Hearts was running fine before him, and it will run fine after he’s gone.

The idea of him being gone sends a pang through my heart. But I push it aside and brighten my smile. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. And if Damien is giving me the brush-off, that will be fine, too. Just like Silver Hearts, I’ve survived worse. And I have always been okay.

“Hmph. That’s not good enough,” Mrs. Steinburg says, pulling me back to reality. She turns her head to call for her eldest over her shoulder. “Charlotte!”

The spitting image of Mrs. Steinburg comes running down the stairs. “What’s wrong, Mom? Did you fall?”

“No. Stop fussing over me. Call your boyfriend and tell him he has no other jobs today. He needs to go to Silver Hearts and fix the toilet.”

I gape at Mrs. Steinburg. “I mean, we have water everywhere, but I’m sure he can’t?—”

“Nonsense. Fred is a good boy,” Mrs. Baumgartner says.

Charlotte is already on her phone making the call on her mother’s orders.

I think I might cry. Fred isn’t the man I need to show up for me today, but I guess he’s what I’m going to get. And he’s definitely better than nothing. I press Mrs. Steinburg’s hand between mine. “Thank you. Thank you both. I wish you didn’t have to go to the trouble on my account, but I’m really grateful.”

“He’s on his way,” Charlotte says, interrupting me. I didn’t even hear her conversation end; I was so overwhelmed.

Mrs. Steinburg pats my hand. “See, dear? We take care of each other.”

I swallow a lump in my throat. “Thank you again.”

“Now, you get that lunch and dinner to Mrs. Baumgartner. I’m sure she’s anxious to get her ‘hello’ from Mr. Katz.” Mrs. Steinburg winks.

“True.” I smile, feeling hope soar to life inside me. What Mrs. Steinburg said was right—we do take care of each other. I’m just not used to feeling that care coming back in my direction very often. I don’t like being the one who needs it, but today, I’m simply grateful. I wave goodbye and head back to the van.

Before I know it, I’m parked in front of Mrs. Baumgartner’s house. Like Mr. Katz, her oxygen hose is stretched to its limit as she stands impatiently in the doorway. She looks past me when I get out of the van, then frowns. “Where’s Damien?”

His name on her lips hits me in the gut. Or maybe it’s my heart. Either way, it hurts more than I care to admit.

“He’s not volunteering today.” I turn up my smile and hope she believes it. “But I’m here. Oh! And Mr. Katz says ‘hi.’”

Mrs. Baumgartner gets a dreamy look on her face, just like a lovesick teenager. “Oh, Irving. That charmer.”

“Are you watching Family Feud with him today?” I ask as I bring her two meal boxes in, one for lunch, one for dinner.

“Of course.” Mrs. Baumgartner smiles. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

As if on cue, her phone’s FaceTime rings, and she shuffles quickly over to get it off her TV tray. “Irving, darling!”

Mr. Katz’s eyeball responds to her. “Doris, my love!”

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