Page 23 of Say Yes to the Hot Mess
It’s not…a terrible idea. I mean, I don’t know that it would work. But I doubt it would hurt, either. And, honestly, I do feel a little bad about the way I’ve been treating him. Sure, he’s basically making me move, and I don’t want to. But that’s not an excuse for me to be petty.
“I’ll think about it,” I finally say.
“Good,” she says. “Now I have to go, but I want you to be a good neighbor. And also repeat to yourself that your body is amazing, okay?”
“Okay,” I grumble, but I smile just a little. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye!” she says.
When we hang up, I put the phone down next to me, staring at the ceiling fan. My mind drifts back to Dex, and specifically to the phone conversation I overheard.
He needs to find a date.
And he’s going to try to fix someone’s microwave.
The beginnings of an idea niggle at the back of my mind, but I push them away quickly—it’s a ridiculous idea, and it would probably be completely painful.
Still, if I wanted to be a good neighbor, it might…
No. Just no.
This very bad idea reminds me to check my email and phone for messages from maintenance, and though I’m not surprised to find none, I am irritated.
Maybe I should just call Frank and see if he can help. I can look up how to fix a dryer well enough, I guess, but I don’t have tools, and I’m not physically strong enough to move something that big.
So I vow to myself that tomorrow I’ll stop waiting around; I’ll call Frank and get this done. It will be good to learn a new skill, anyway.
But as I drift off to sleep, I find my mind circling back around to that terrible half-idea from a few minutes ago, and when I dream, it’s about weddings.
* * *
The next morning,I call Uncle Frank to ask if he can help me figure out what’s wrong with my dryer.
“I’m on my way to St. Louis,” he says in that gruff voice of his. “Told you last week, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right,” I say, trying not to groan. “Sorry, I forgot.”
“S’okay,” he says. “Should’ve reminded you yesterday when you brought Archer over. Carter just asked if I wanted to come visit, and I thought—well, I thought it would be good.”
“It is,” I say softly. Carter and his dad haven’t always been close, so it’s good that they’re taking these steps. Especially since Uncle Frank keeps himself so isolated. He’s a private man, hard to get to know, but I think he would benefit from having more people in his life. “Well, have fun,” I say, smiling. “How long will you be gone? A week, right?”
“Five days,” he corrects.
“All right, I’ll see you when you get back.”
We hang up, and I bite my lip, my gaze darting aimlessly around my living room. Archer is lying on his back on the floor in the middle of the room, doing his baby thing, trying to shove his fist in his mouth. After a few seconds he gives up, and I smile.
My smile fades as I think back to my dryer problem, though. I can’t hang stuff in my backyard anymore, and maintenance is taking its sweet time. Frank is gone for now.
It takes me only a minute to make up my mind: I’m just going to do it myself.
Honestly, this will be good for me. I feel like such a hot mess most of the time, barely holding it together. It will feel good to actually do something like this for myself rather than having to rely on someone else. I’m a grown woman with a child; I should know how to fix things that break in my home, and Archer and Ididjust decide we need to learn how to take care of ourselves rather than waiting for someone else to come along.
So I grab Archer’s bouncer and take it upstairs. Then I grab Archer, and we go up to the laundry room. There’s a pile of clean laundry on top of the washer, just sitting there judging me, but I ignore it. Instead I put Archer in his bouncer outside the door of the laundry room, turning it on so it will bounce him up and down. Then I pull up the internet and start looking for reasons a dryer might be emitting a very strong burning smell. One of the first things I read is that dryers are the cause of thousands of fires every year.
This does not make me feel better.
So I keep scrolling. I check to make sure there’s no lint buildup, but I know there isn’t; I’m good about cleaning it out. As I keep searching the internet, it becomes very apparent—very quickly—that I know nothing about household appliances. That being said, I still give it a shot. I start by giving the corner of the dryer a good, hard tug, mostly just to see if I’m going to be able to move it at all. As I suspected, it doesn’t budge. So instead, I climb up on top of it and peer down behind it.