Page 43 of About Last Christmas
I’m already digging out my unopened Dasani from my tote. “Here.”
She gratefully takes it, but her hands are shaky. I reach to help, but her gaze seeks out Leo. He dutifully holds the bottle for her while she takes measured sips.
Noise sounds on the stairs.
“That would be emergency services,” I say.
“Up here,” Leo calls, even as Mitzy’s eyes widen.
Within seconds, two men stride through the door, and Leo takes control, explaining the situation. I guess he knows them, considering their familiar manner. Mitzy refuses to be transported to the hospital, but certainly doesn’t mind the EMTs fussing over her, checking her vitals, taking her temperature, and asking her questions. Once she signs a release form, the medical team is on their way.
“Well, that was an ordeal.” Mitzy leans back against the cushions. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble.” Her chipper tone is the exact opposite of apologetic, making me wonder if maybe she’s been lonely.
I finally glance around her apartment. I’ve been inside Mitzy’s place barely a handful of times, but the space is as I remember it—quaint and tidy. I know that most of her dolls are kept in the spare bedroom, except for the select few she keeps out, such as the swaddled figure in the cradle by the armchair, the curly-haired doll in the wooden highchair, and the one she claimed has a cold in the bassinet beside her.
Which reminds me.
I grab the box of baby outfits that was abandoned by the door and place it next to her on the sofa.
She squeals in delight and rummages through like a kid on Christmas.
“Greta?” Leo waves me into the kitchen but remains close, as if we’re sharing secrets. “She’s stable now, but we didn’t fix the problem.”
I nod. “The water.”
“Yeah.”
I watch as he tests the faucet, then opens the cabinet beneath the sink. I never once thought to consider critical-thinking skills an attractive trait. But the way his hands flex at his sides and the way his brows furrow over a pensive gaze as he’s mentally searching for a solution has my mouth going dry. He folds his arms over his chest and leans against the counter. “I can run to Home Depot and grab an under-the-sink filter system. That will make her water safe to drink.”
“Good idea.” Tilly’s parents have one of those in their house. “I’ll stay with Mitzy and see if I can get her to eat something.”
His face softens. “Sorry about the Italian restaurant.”
I’d completely forgotten. “Don’t be.” I smile. “I’m just glad we were here to help.”
He watches me for several soul-stirring seconds before saying, “Me too.”
“Oh, maybe I can get Mitzy to leak the name of her landlord. They really should be responsible for clean pipes.” I briefly have the idea that Mitzy can be my Silver Creek Secret Santa recipient, but she needs clean water right away, not three weeks from now so Fletcher can get his coveted sob story.
“That shouldn’t be a problem. I’m pretty sure Chief Todd owns this building.”
“Really?” Garrison Todd is a pillar in this community. If his name’s on that deed, then I’m pretty sure he has no idea about Mitzy’s rusty water. He’ll make everything right.
With our plan in motion, Leo heads to the store to get the water purifier, and I tend to Mitzy. She’s dutifully drinking her water, and I do housekeeping tasks so she won’t have to exert herself this week, like running the vacuum, dusting her furniture, and throwing in a load of laundry. By the time Leo returns, I’m heating up soup (from the cans I found in the cupboard) and making grilled cheese sandwiches.
Of course, Leo bought a top-of-the-line water filtration system that he spends the next couple of hours installing. I manage to get him to eat a little, but the man is on a mission.
It’s nearing ten o’clock by the time we leave Mitzy’s apartment. No soul is in sight on the back alley behind Main Street, but Leo insists on walking me to my door.
I gently bump his elbow with mine. “I think Mitzy loves her new tumbler.” Along with her new water purifier, Leo bought her one of those expensive, temperature retention cups so she could always keep water nearby. It was ridiculously thoughtful. “She cradled it close like one of her dolls. I think you’re her new favorite person.”
He chuckles. “Yet she still scolded me for not saying goodbye to Jacqueline.”
She totally did. We reach the bottom of the staircase leading to my door, and I’m surprised Leo climbs the steps alongside me. “Despite that, you’re a good guy, Remington Orileo Mathis.”
I expect him to smile at my words, but instead, his gaze is … smoldering. I’ve never beensmolderedbefore, and it’s quite the heady feeling. My fingers are all twitchy as they wrap around the doorknob.
“I’m glad you think so.” His voice pairs well with moonlight. “Sweet dreams, Greta.”
