Page 127 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
This realization comes at the same time I notice Piper is wearing leggings, a thick jumper, and socks…Inside…In California.
Socks aren’t a thing here.
Unless, of course, the air con is set to somewhere near freezing. At the same time, all the towels happen to be in the wash and the hot water breaks.
My suspicion is more than piqued now. I’m in full-pointing-fingers and yelling-Ah-Ha! mode. But I play it cool. “I thought Sybil might know who handles that kind of stuff for this house.”
“Uh huh.” Piper doesn’t even pretend to believe me before picking up her colored pencil and going back to her sketchbook.
On my way to my room, I stop first at the thermostat and check the setting. Ten degrees Celsius. Not quite freezing, but close.
“Did you mean to turn the air down this low?” I yell.
“Is it low? I never understand Celsius,” she calls back.
“For future reference, ten degrees Celsius is roughly fifty degrees Fahrenheit.” I toggle the switch to heat. “If you keep it around twenty-two, we won’t need parkas.”
“Good to know! Thanks!”
When I get to my room, rather than calling a plumber, I take Piper’s advice and consult Google.What makes water hot in California homes?
The answer I get is a water heater. Which seems obvious but also leads to more questions.
What is a water heater?
Google is more helpful with that question. Because, of course, the water has to be heated by something, somewhere. It’s not naturally hot in some parts of the world and not in others.
Where do I find a water heater?
Google fills my screen with pictures of water heaters—helpful—and a hundred places where I can buy a water heater—not so helpful. I narrow my search.
Where do I find a water heater in a California home?
I get a one-sentence answer.In California, water heaters are typically located in garages.
I smack my head. I know exactly what it is now. I’ve passed the rectangular box on the wall with all the pipes coming fromit every time I walk from the garage into the house. If I ever wondered what it was, I don’t remember.
Dressed in my warmest clothes and armed with Google, I run down the stairs to the garage.
An instruction manual entitled Tankless Water Heater is in a plastic bag attached to the side of the rectangle box. One page in, I discover that, not only is this a water heater, but it’s also one that never runs out of hot water. As long as the heater is powered on, the water will be hot. Forever and ever.
After a little more reading, I discover that the currently blank digital face of the box should have a temperature showing. I find the power button right below the blank face and press it, understanding one thing: The box must be on in order for the water to get hot, and this box is not on.
When the numbers light up the small screen, I give a little huff of success, then press the up arrow until it shows one hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit, which is what the booklet recommends. I stare it down for a minute, daring the power to go off or the numbers to go down.
Nothing happens.
Time for a test. I walk through the kitchen, past Piper, to the downstairs bathroom I just showered in. I turn on the shower, and seconds later, steam billows.
After my second shower of the day—which is also the best shower of my life—I go back to the kitchen. Piper is still coloring as though it’s her first day of primary school.
"Looks like the heater turned off for some reason," I say casually, even though she didn’t ask.
"Huh. Has it done that before?" She could have colored every page in that book of hers by now.
"Never." I stare at her harder than I did at the hot water machine.
“Weird. Glad you fixed it, though.”Color, color, color. Nothing to see here.
