“All right.” There was some undefined noise over the line, then Mom said, “It’s stopped spraying. But it’s all wet.”
“You mop up what you can, and Griffin will be right there.”
“Okay. Tell him thank you for taking the time for me.”
“I will.”
“Love you.”
“You too, Mom.” I tapped the call off and turned to Griffin. “You’re sure?”
“Of course.” He held out the guitar to me. “You get that back to Adelle, and I’ll deal with your plumbing.” He made a face. “No double meaning intended. I’ll fix your mother’s leak problem.”
“Thank you. Call if you have any trouble. You’re done at five, you said?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect.” I was technically done at four, but I had more than enough to keep me busy. “I can pick you up out front of Rose Gardens.” I spotted an aide coming down the hall and took the guitar, holding it out to her. “Here, get this back to Adelle, please.”
She blinked but said, “Yes, Lee,” and took the instrument.
“Right.” I turned to Griffin, thinking I should say more, but Noreen looked like she was going to explode. I went with, “Thanks. See you later.”
The moment she was sure I was coming, Noreen strode off down the hall, making me hustle to keep up with her. “It’s not just the furosemide. There’s no Lidocaine cream and Mrs. Booker’s trazodone didn’t come.”
I glanced over my shoulder once, in time to see Griffin heading for the front door.
Images of what Mom might tell Griffin gave me a moment of hesitation. She’d been around for my crash-and-burn post-Griffin days, although she’d been so caught up in Alice’s diagnosis, maybe she hadn’t noticed me. Would she tell him I cried my eyes out and walked around like a zombie? Hopefully not.
It was too late to intercept their meeting now. And with Griffin taking care of Mom, I could give my attention to what sounded like an absolute clusterfuck of a non-delivery. “You’re kidding,” I said to Noreen, who was listing the missing and backordered items. “No insulin syringes? That’s fucked up. What do they expect us to do? Shove insulin up someone’s nose?” Noreen was the one hustling to keep up with me now, as I headed for my office to compare lists and then commence asshole ripping. And I realized that not once had I worried about what Griffin would say or do around my mom. I was damned sure the guy I’d loved was still a good man at heart.
Chapter 7
Griffin
Getting out of the Lyft in front of Lee’s mother’s house was another moment of déjà vu. I’d picked Lee up here dozens of times, since he’d lived at home while going to nursing school. Usually, that green front door would’ve swung open and there would be Lee, dashing down the path and jumping into the passenger side of my old beater, laughing. Today, I walked up to the front porch and rang the bell.
Seeing Mrs. Robertson as she opened the door drove home the passing of time. Her red curls, once a match for Lee’s, had gone silver with the faintest copper sheen, and her face wore deep grooves suggesting pain. I wondered if she had chronic health issues, but of course she’d nursed her daughter over many years and lost her. That would age anyone.
“Griffin?” she said. “Oh, I’d have known you anywhere. Lee was so sad when you left. I’m glad you’re back.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Call me Ellen.” She pulled the door wider. “Please, come in. I’m so grateful you came. I used to be able to roll with the punches but I don’t know. Lately, every little thing seems like too much.”
“If your hands aren’t strong enough to turn a valve, that’s not about rolling with the punches.” Lee had texted me a bit more background on the drive over. “That just means you need someone with bigger hands.”
She patted my arm as she closed the door. “You always were a kind man. Come on, this way.”
I followed her into the basement, where steamy damp air and a patch of soaked drywall marked the leak. That valve handle was well and truly stuck, and I hoped I wouldn’t snap it. “Okay, that’s pretty jammed up. No wonder you couldn’t close it.”
“Lee showed me how he put the long screwdriver through the handle but I was afraid to try it.”
“I have a different method. You have a hairdryer?”
She tilted her head, reminding me of a curious Lee. “Upstairs.”
“Why don’t you get it and I’ll check your workbench for some tools.”
