“That’s Lee’s workbench. I’m sure he’d want you to go ahead.”
I headed over to check the hammers. “Does he come over often?” He’d been very devoted to his family back when.
“Oh, he lives here.” She gave a kind of laugh. “He stayed to help me with Alice. You remember Alice?”
“Yes, of course,” I murmured. “So sorry for your loss. Alice was special.”
“She was. My beautiful girl.” Ellen rubbed her eyes. “It’s good to know other people remember her. Sometimes I feel like she’s slipping away out of the world and I’m the only one who cares she was ever here.”
“Lee cares.”
“Yes, of course. He’s a good boy. And after Alice passed, with all the things that needed doing, he stayed to help out. And then, well, this is a big house for one person, and he doesn’t have to pay rent. It just makes sense, right?”
“Of course it does.” Although I bet it made it hard to bring a man home for a little fun.
“Yes.” She nodded as if convincing herself. “Right. I’ll get you that hairdryer.”
With a little heat, WD-40, and a few taps from a muffled hammer, I got the valve loosened enough to turn. Once the water was off, I put on the replacement hose, muscling the washer away from the wall to get at the connector. “Right,” I told Ellen. “Open the knife valve first. Let’s make sure the other one holds.”
The rush and thump of water in the pipes wasn’t followed by any unwanted dripping.
“Okay. Now I’m going to turn this valve.” I went slow, but nothing leaked. After shoving the washer back into place, I grinned. “There. All set.”
“I’m so grateful.” Ellen looked at the washer full of half-done clothes. “Should I just start it again, you think?”
I was surprised at her tentative tone. Back in the day, she’d been competent and brisk, a practical working nurse Lee had admired. “That’s what I would do.”
“Right. Okay.” She fiddled with the controls, then the water started running in. We both watched for a moment but nothing sprayed. “What do you think about the drywall?” she asked.
“Put a fan on it to dry it, and then see how badly it’s warped. Might need to cut out a section and patch it.”
“That can be done?”
“Yeah, no sweat. I used to work construction, back when I was getting my start. Drywall’s pretty easy.”
Ellen sighed. “I feel like I used to know how to do things, and now it’s all so difficult.”
“You were a nurse. You didn’t need to know how to patch drywall.”
Her warm smile, so like Lee’s, was my reward. “Thanks. Come on upstairs. You can wash your hands and let me feed you some lunch. It’s the least I can do.”
“Thank you.” I usually grabbed lunch on the go between the two nursing homes, a plastic wrapped sandwich from a convenience store or if I had the appetite for it, fast food. I wouldn’t turn down something homemade, or, truth be told, the chance to learn a bit more about Lee’s life in the last twenty years.
Ellen sat me down at her kitchen table with a ham sandwich and a bowl of soup.
Despite the warmth of the day, that beef-barley smelled good. “Aren’t you eating?” I asked as she settled across from me.
“Oh, I don’t eat much in the middle of the day.”
She’d cut my sandwich in quarters and I gestured. “A quarter sandwich? This is more than my usual lunch, but I can’t pass up your soup.”
“Well, I suppose.” When I slid her a section on one of the paper napkins, she took a small bite, then eyed me sideways. “I have to say, I was surprised when Lee mentioned your name.Even more when he sent you over here. I thought you ran off to New York and Hollywood to be a star.”
“I kind of did. And I had some success. But I’m back here for a while.”
“A while? How long? Because…” She hesitated, then went on. “I said Lee was sad when you left, but it was more than that. He was crushed. He changed, after that. And yes, part of it was Alice and her health and, just, everything. But he’d been a happy boy, a positive young man. After you were gone, a light went out of his eyes.”
I set my spoon back in the bowl, the soup settling uneasily in my stomach. “I’m sorry.”
