High Maintenance (3 page)

Lexy stepped into Ray Bowers’ apartment behind the man and his son. She set Ray’s tool bag and jacket on the ground near the sofa and stood awkwardly next to it as Tate guided his dad to the bedroom. Should she go back to her own apartment now? Her stomach ached at the familiar scene keeping her from leaving. Her eyes drifted across the man’s living space. Similar to her own father’s apartment, it had air of loneliness, maybe even finality.

A moment later, a knock at the door drew Tate from around the corner. She watched as he answered it and took the bags from Mrs. Granger. She’d forgotten all about her groceries. When Tate transferred both bags to one hand so he could close the door, one of the books tumbled to the floor. Lexy’s eyes widened, noticing which book lay at Tate’s feet. She lunged forward to grab it, but Tate kneeled down to swipe it up. After a quick glance at the cover, he arched an eyebrow at her that could have left her embarrassed and scrambling to explain. Instead she snatched it proudly from his hand, smiled, and said, “Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said, turning serious before handing her the bags. “My dad’s…going through a lot right now.”

The sincerity and vulnerability sat so naturally on his face. She pondered why such an odd thought would enter her brain, and then denied it could have been because it was so unlike Julian.

“No need to explain. Is he going to be okay?” she said.

“I’m sure he will be. He goes through these times where he’s just not taking care of himself.”

The urge to touch him propelled her hand forward, but she withdrew it quickly. “He’s lucky you’re here. Is there anything I can do right now? For either of you?”

Before Tate could answer, Ray called from the bedroom.

“It’s all right,” she said and walked to the door. “I have to get these things to my fridge anyway.”

Tate looked toward the bedroom and then back to Lexy expectantly. “Will you please come back when you’re done? I want to talk to you about something.”

“Oh…okay.”

“Just let yourself in.” Then, he disappeared down the hall.

***

After Lexy secured her half-melted ice cream in the freezer, she deposited the rest of the items in their proper places. Standing in the middle of her kitchen, she inhaled a deep breath. What could Tate want to speak to her about? Most likely he’d explain about his father, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to become involved in their problems. It hit too close to home. Her eyes welled up, a reminder that the pain of losing her father hadn’t lessened over the last six months.
You’re a strong woman, Alexia
. His words rang in her head as real as if they were being whispered in her ear. A deep breath helped her remember how to be that woman. But another reason for avoiding the situation nagged at her. Becoming too attached, feeling sympathy,  wanting to help. It could be dangerous business opening up to all of that. Especially when the handsome, strapping Tate was the one on the receiving end.

Lexy returned to Ray’s apartment, letting herself in quietly in case he was sleeping. She padded to the hall but stopped short when she heard the two men talking.

“Stop lecturing me. I’m a sick old man, remember?”

“Don’t gimme that sick shit. You just need to take better care of yourself…but you are pretty damn old, old man. ”

“Thanks.”

“I guess someone needs to stay on your ass now. Look at all these bottles, Dad. I had them all organized.” During the pause she heard shuffling and movement. “Maybe you fell because you took the wrong fucking pills.” The desperation in Tate’s voice permeated the room.

“Nag, nag, nag. Why don’t you make me a pot roast and go watch some soap operas, Wilma.”

“It’s not funny. Jesus, this one is empty. You were supposed to get that filled last week. I’m calling your doctor.”

“No!” Ray’s voice came loaded with panic. “I don’t need a nursemaid,” he said, calming. “I’ll take care of it.”

Another pause came before the sound of the mattress creaking. She should have left to give them their privacy but she didn’t move. A part of her knew it was too late to stop from getting involved. Too late to be touched by their story.

“Promise me you’ll call.”

“I will. I’m sorry you had to come here and deal with this, Son. I’m just so damn sick of being sick. I’m sixty-fucking-seven years old and deteriorating into an old man. And, what have I got to show for my life?”

“I’m sorry too, Dad.” Tate’s voice softened then. “I know it’s hard for you. I’m just trying to help.”

“What I hate worse than being sick is having you so worried about me. I’m your father. I’m supposed to be helping you, not being a burden to you.”

“Hey, you worked your ass off your whole life. You spent your retirement money to put three of your four kids through college. I’d say you’ve earned it, so I don’t wanna hear that crap anymore.”

“Yeah, and only one of you ingrates is here helping your pop.”

Lexy found herself smiling at their adorable banter.

“Then, I guess you better shape up if you want me to stick around.”

“Oh you’ll stick around all right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

A few beats hung in the air with no reply. She had the urge to peek around the corner and see what look Ray might be giving his son for an answer.

“Don’t give me that look, old man.”

“Hey, I came here for you and I’m staying here for you. It’s that simple.”

“Okay. I guess that stupid dreamy look you get on your face when you see little Miss Fix it is just an added bonus.”

Lexy blushed as she drew in a quick breath. She startled when she heard Tate get up from the bed and walk toward the door. She turned in a panic to leave. Forgetting which way was out, she spun back around and ran right into Tate. Flustered and embarrassed she couldn’t say a word.

“Kitten, you’re back?” He walked past her like she hadn’t just overheard that, leaving a knot in her stomach. “Hold on a sec,” he said without turning around.

Caught off guard by his presence and the nickname, she froze in place. Thirty seconds later he returned holding a glass bottle as he walked past her again.

“Here,” he said when he walked back into Ray’s room.

“A beer? This is how you take care of your old man?” Ray said, sounding more jovial than upset.

“Yeah, actually. It will relax you… and it won’t kill you. When you’re done I want you to get some rest. I’m going to hang out here for a bit. Have a word with your little
Miss Fix-It
out there.”

Lexy couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from rising, but when Tate rounded the corner again she pulled her lips into a straight line.

The apartment phone rang just as their eyes met. Tate shrugged as he pulled his attention away to answer it. Her patience was running thin.

After three “yeps” and a “no problem,” Tate hung up, turned to Lexy, and said in a hushed tone, “Time to see what you’re made of.” He picked up Ray’s tool bag, slinging it over his shoulder. Then, he grabbed her wrist and led her out the door. Lexy followed without protest until they ended up in the courtyard just outside the laundry room.

***

“Okay, what’s going on?”

Heat from the blazing sun glared down on the couple. Tate swiped at the sweat that beaded at his brow. “Someone just called saying the washroom is flooded. I didn’t want my Dad to know.”

Lexy cocked her head, adding a questioning stare. “And, I need to be here why?”

Tate waited a beat. “Well, you’re the expert in this place. I thought you could give me a hand.”

Feigned contemplation displayed on her face before Lexy let out a breath. “Ughh! Let’s go.” A swift shove of the ajar door swung it open wide enough for them to both pass through. But as Lexy turned to watch the downswing, she screeched and flinched. “No! The door!”

“What?” he said, standing next to the closed door.

“Shit, where’s the brick?” Lexy executed a 360-degree turn in the laundry room, passing her eyes across a puddle forming next to a washer.
Great
.

A booming laugh exploded from Tate. “You realize what you just said, right?”

She didn’t have time to determine whether his immature comment was endearing or annoying. “Shut up. The door. It’s supposed to be held open with a brick. Sometimes it locks from the inside.”

Unaffected, Tate put his hand on the knob and said, “Shall we end the suspense now or wait until we leave and be surprised?”

Lexy folded her arms in annoyance, though endearing just took the lead. At the thought of being trapped with Tate, a faint flutter in her stomach made its presence known.

“All right.” Slowly Tate turned the handle. A click echoed in the still room just before he popped the door open with ease.

Lexy breathed a sigh of relief, hoping to convince them both. “Yay.”

Tate lifted both hands up in celebration, freeing the knob. “See, our lucky day.” Then, the door slammed shut.

Had he read the disappointment on her face? Lexy hurried over to check the knob, confirming it was indeed locked this time. “You did that on purpose.” She slammed her fist into his swollen bicep, relishing the feel of it.

“Seriously? Why would I do that?”

“God!” Lexy went in for blow number two, when Tate’s fingers closed in on her wrist. His strength easily pulled her into him. Her breath caught. He waited for her to look up at him, meeting his intense stare.

She only held his gaze for a moment before blurting out. “You know I’m engaged.” It was about time she laid down the law and acted like it.

A light ignited in his eyes, seemingly having the opposite of her intended effect. “Wow, Kitten, you seriously are sure of yourself.”

Lexy attempted to free her hand, but instead Tate flipped her wrist over, as if he knew what he’d find on her hand. Smiling, he began to read the words she’d scribbled there in black ink, “It’s a piece of—”

Yanking her hand away, she cut him off. “I just want to make sure we’re clear.”

“With that massive rock on your other hand, who’s not going to know?”

Lexy stared, waiting for a different response.

“Okay…I will admit I like you. Maybe more than I should. But I’m not about to move in on some other guy’s territory.”

“Wow, really? Aside from making me sound like a piece of real estate, I guess I appreciate the thought. As long as we are on the same page.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m still on the table of contents.”

“Seriously, stop.” She fought a grin.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “Friends? I could use one, being new here.”

“Friends.” She nodded.

“Great. Can we get to work now?” He glanced around with confidence.

“What about the door?”

He pointed to the machine with the puddle in front of it. “Let’s fix the washer and clean up this mess first. I’m sure someone will come along before we need to ravage the year-old Snickers in that vending machine.”

“You better hope so,” she said, holding back a grin.

Lexy eagerly sped past a staggering Tate to face the offending appliance. She’d had her suspicions about his repair skills when he came to her apartment, and this reluctance didn’t counter that. “Come on,” she said anxiously, waving him over.

Stopping in front of the washer, Tate looked from the open top to the wet floor and then back to the top again. He set the tool bag on the shelf next to them just as Lexy hopped up on the adjacent counter. She quickly surveyed behind the washer. “We should probably turn this valve off.” The natural instinct gave her a warm sensation of pride and nostalgia. Her dad had been patient with her in similar situations, relaying in detail everything he did and why. Many times he didn’t know the cause of a problem, but confidence drove him to uncover the source and a solution. That same confidence ran through Lexy. That made her smile.

A silent Tate watched as she reached for the valve and began turning it with dogged vigor. After, she hopped down looking content.

“Shit, you’re like one of those excitable little Chihuahuas, heart racing a million beats a minute, jumping right into action.”

She wiped her hands on her pants. It hadn’t felt like an insult, except for the Chihuahua part. “Are you calling me a dog?”

“I wouldn’t call you a dog, Kitten.”

“What is it with you and the pet names?”

“I dunno. I like animals…and adorable little creatures.” He smiled playfully, about to reach up to pat her on the head.

She jerked away from his touch. “You’re pushing your luck, you know that? Now are you going to fix this thing or not?”

Tate pulled his hands away and up as if to surrender. “All right, all right.” He kneeled down to examine the puddle like he was on an episode of CSI. “This thing’s leaking pretty damn good.”

“Your powers of observation are nothing short of stellar. Anything else?”

His eyes traveled up her legs and landed on her face. “Just give me a sec.”