“Um, sure. What’s up?”
She flashes me a blindingly white smile. I wonder if she has caps on her teeth. “So here’s the thing,” she says. “On the day before trash pickup, would you mind putting your trash out a little later in the evening?”
I stare at her. “What are you talking about? Nico doesn’t put it out until after dinner.”
“Right,” she says. “And you guys must eat dinner super early. Because whenweare eating dinner, we can see your trash out in front of the house. And it’s there the entire evening. There’s trash sitting on the sidewalk from, like, seven in the evening until the next morning.” She sniffs. “Honestly, Millie, it’sunsightly.”
“Did you mention this to Enzo?” I ask. She seems to speak with him constantly, so I’m not sure why she’s tellingmeabout all this.
“He just seems so busy. I wouldn’t want to bother him with something so trivial.”
“Okay…”
“Plus, Nico takes care of the trash, doesn’t he? The kids are more your domain, I assumed.”
Suzette somehow assumes I am a 1950s housewife. But I don’t feel like getting into it with her.
“Fine,” I grumble. “What time would you like him to take out the trash?”
“Well, no earlier than eleven, certainly.”
“His bedtime is ten,” I say through my teeth. “He’snine.”
“Oh.” She taps her chin. “Perhapsyoushould take out the trash then?”
She hasgotto be kidding me. I’m tempted to tell this woman where she can shove that trash can, but at that moment, a truck pulls up in front of my house. A man with a big shaggy mustache and potbelly climbs out of the truck, a sour expression on his face. It takes me a second to recognize him as the plumber who came by a few days ago. I called him to fix our downstairs toilet, which was taking about an hour to flush. Enzo kept insisting he could fix it and we didn’t need professional help, but it seemed like every time he tried to fix it, the flush took ten minutes longer. I didn’t even tell him I called the plumber. He thinks the toilet magically fixed itself.
“Hey!” The plumber, whose name completely escapes me at the moment, ambles down the walkway to where I’m standing with Suzette. “I was here a few days ago to do a job, and you wrote me a bum check!”
What?
“I… I did?” I stammer. I don’t know how that’s possible. I keep track of every penny that goes in and out of our checking account. We don’t have a lot of excess cash, but I’m certain we had more than enough to cover the $300 check I wrote for the plumber.
The plumber is not a small man. He’s well over six feet, towering over me, and I have to take a step back as he comes closer. “You sure did, lady!” he growls.
Suzette seems entertained by this interaction. Why can’t she go back to her house? This issoembarrassing.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I thought there was enough in the account to cover it. Can I… Do you take credit cards?”
“I don’t,” he spits at me. “I told you when I fixed your toilet: only cash or check. And now for you, only cash.”
Well, that’s a problem. I don’t have $300 in cash just lying around. I probably have forty dollars in my wallet if I’m lucky. Enzo has already taken off for the day, but he doesn’t carry much money either. “Um,” I say, “if you wait, I can go to an ATM…”
The plumber hikes up his pants and plants himself squarely on the sidewalk in front of my house. “I’m not moving one step until I get paid, lady.”
“You know what,” Suzette pipes up. “I might have some cash in the house. Give me a minute.”
She dashes back into the house, walking admirably well in those four-inch heels. A minute later, she bursts from the front door with a wad of cash. She holds it out to the plumber, who immediately starts counting it.
“It’s all there,” Suzette assures him.
The plumber finishes counting the cash and nods at her. “You got that right, pretty lady.” He tips his grimy baseball cap in her direction. “Thank you muchly.”
He gives me one last dirty look and then climbs back into his truck. I’m pretty sure I am blackballed from that plumbing service. Hopefully, Enzo can get better at fixing the pipes.
Suzette watches the plumber drive away, then turns to me with an expectant look on her face. I know what she wants, and I’m going to have to give it to her.
“Thank you so much, Suzette,” I say. “I… I promise I’ll pay you back every penny.”
