Monday, January 24, 2011

Maybe, I Was Being Too Forward

What is it about a guy who can fix things that is so attractive? Paint a room and you’re the coolest in my book. Change a lock and you fascinate me. Get on a ladder and you are so darn cute. Fix a leak and I’m smitten. Unclog a drain and I’m in love.

Such was the case today as a river ran through my laundry room. Don’t ask me how it happened. I think this grumpy old house is mad at us for some reason this winter. Maybe the cause was a Matchbox car wedged down the drain pipe; I’ll never know. But I do know that my husband fixed it after about six curse-filled trips past me, out the front door and back from Home Depot, as I sat on the couch with our youngest, who had a fever.

At about 9 p.m., he asked me to turn on the faucets, flush the toilets and run the washing machine as he watched the pipes from the basement. So I held my breath and did it, with my finger in the phone book holding the page for Ray the plumber. After about ten minutes, he called me down there. I found him smiling and grimy.

“I think I fixed it,” he said. “Nothing is leaking.”

I looked at the old basement wall and discovered that he had ripped the sheet rock around the pipes. My eyes widened.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I need to take the wall out and refinish the basement anyway,” he said, misreading my look.

But I wasn’t worried. I was infatuated. Did he just tear sheet rock? And did he just say he plans to redo the basement?

“Wow.” I said.

Next I was following him around like a 12 year-old groupie at a Justin Bieber concert, through the kitchen, back to the laundry room and finally into the bathroom where I bumped into him as he tried to shut the door.

“Um, I have to go, can you give me a minute? Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something you have to tell me?”

“I just want you to know that it was a beautiful, moving thing, what you did in there," I said, pointing to the laundry room.

“Loren, I just unclogged the drain and fixed a plastic pipe. I made a giant hole in the wall and it took me 10 hours.”

“Nevertheless, you are such a talented handy man," I said, pulling a business card out of my pocket that I happened to have on hand because I covered a work event earlier. “Call me,” I added, seriously, stuffing it into his shirt pocket. He took the card out and handed it back to me, laughing.

“Okay, well, I already know this number. Goodbye, insane woman.”

“Maybe when you get out of here I’ll see ya,” I said, as he pushed me out of the bathroom and shut the door, leaving me to wonder, as I leaned against it, if maybe, I was being too forward.

This is an entry for PartSelect’s $5000 GE Giveaway contest.


Putz said...

this is totally a love story>>>>with a tear in my eye i wish you all a torrid affair although you are both married and to each other but that does not make this any less significant

Loren Christie said...

I think the fact that we are married makes it an even better love story. Thanks for reading Mr. Putz, and don't cry.

Dear Internet Traveler,

Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.


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