Page 4 of Touchdown Under the Mistletoe
She lets out an exasperated breath. “Yes, because… well, look at you. You’re a big NFL player, Travis. I couldn’t possibly carry you anywhere, even if I wanted to. You, on the other hand, could throw me over Mount Hartley with one arm.”
I shrug. “True. Now come on, let’s get inside before we turn into two freezing snowmen.”
She arches an eyebrow at me. “No more funny business, okay?”
“Got it. Scout’s honor,” I say and hold one hand up like I’m taking an oath.
“You were never a scout.”
I waggle my eyebrows. “Exactly, which is why you should probably go first.”
She bites her lip to suppress a laugh and shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”
“What’s that?”
“I said it’s hard to believe you’re a thirty-eight-year-old man,” she says while I follow her up the front porch steps of her parents’ house.
“Reinforcements have arrived,” I announce as we step inside.
Mrs. Quinn appears in the hallway and immediately pulls me into a hug. “Travis! I had no idea you would be home for Christmas.”
“Last-minute decision. My schedule finally opened up,” I tell her.
What I don’t say is that I specifically asked for time off because I was exhausted from the fake relationship with Sienna,the constant media attention, and pretending to be someone I’m not. Coming home to Maplewood Springs is supposed to be a break from all that.
“Your mother must be thrilled.”
“She is. But I am too. It’s been a while since I’ve been home for the holidays.”
Mr. Quinn pops his head into the hallway. “Travis, good to see you. Could use your help to move furniture away from the flood zone.”
“On it,” I say, following him toward the living room while Riley disappears into the kitchen with her mom and the stack of towels.
“We were lucky to find a plumber. He was already working a few streets over and popped right over,” Mr. Quinn says while we shove the couch out of the way.
Half an hour later, the plumber appears from the basement with a toolbox in his hands and his boots dripping water. Mrs. Quinn and Riley hurry into the living room like he’s a surgeon about to deliver life-or-death news after a ten-hour operation.
“Bad news, folks. That burst pipe? It’s just the beginning of your problems. The water reached your electrical panel in the basement. I can’t say for certain without an electrician taking a look, but you’ve likely got some serious wiring issues. For safety reasons, I can’t recommend anyone staying here until that’s checked out and repaired.”
Mrs. Quinn’s face falls. “Checked and repaired? How long will that take?”
“During the holidays?” The plumber grimaces. “I’m guessing a week just to get someone out here to assess it. Then you’re looking at repair time on top of that.”
“But it’s almost Christmas. We can’t be homeless for Christmas,” Mrs. Quinn says.
“Sorry, but there’s more,” the plumber says.
“More?” Riley asks.
“While I was down there, I looked at your pipes. They’re old, really old, as in corroded in multiple places. That burst pipe upstairs won’t be the last one if you don’t replace them. I’m seeing weak spots throughout the system.”
“You’re saying we need to replace all the pipes? But when we built this house, the contractor assured us they were top-notch quality,” Mr. Carter says.
“And how long ago was that?” the plumber asks with a frown.
“Well, about forty years ago.”
The plumber lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’ll do it. You have no choice but to replace everything. It’s a bigger job than just patching one leak. We’re talking about opening up walls, the whole nine yards.”
