Everything was about to change.
It was eight a.m. I was under the sink, fixing the garbage disposal, when Neil came in.
“Oh. You’re here,” he said, sounding surprised.
He should be surprised. It had been weeks since I’d run into him at home.
I didn’t answer.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I adjusted my headlamp. “Sticking a hex-head Allen wrench in the breaker socket at the bottom of the garbage disposal. I need to get the flywheel to turn to free the jammed impeller blades.” I gave it a crank. “Annnnd done.”
I scooted out from under the sink and stood, flicking on the disposal. It ran. I cocked my head at him.
Neil blinked at me. “How do you know how to do that?”
The question made me think of all the times I’d asked him the same thing, and he’d given me some snide comment about not having the time or the crayons to explain it to me.
I took off my headlamp. “The things I’m capable of would shock you, Neil.”
The buzzer went off on the oven, and I put on mitts and pulled out what I was baking. A surprise for Daniel. I set the quiche on the stovetop to cool. “Spinach and broccoli. My favorite.”
His jaw dropped.
Daniel had shown me how to fix the garbage disposal last month. He’d also shown me how to change a tire and put in a car battery and putty a wall. He taught me how to use an iron to get the cloudy white spots off a wood table and how to lift wax out of a carpet. I knew how to roast a chicken and make strawberry jam and compost for the garden. I knew white vinegar got smells out of clothes and how to make a campfire and what poison ivy plants looked like. I could replace a doorknob and install a bolt lock—and I did this on my own bedroom to keep Neil from poking around in there when I wasn’t home.
Neil was watching his power over me dissipate like steam from a shower. I hoped it made his brain explode.
Neil cleared his throat. “I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
“Nope. I’ll talk to you when we start our therapy sessions. That’s more than enough.” I started to walk out of the kitchen.
He spoke to my back. “Did you rehire Maria?”
I stopped in the doorway and groaned internally. He’d fired our housekeeper last week. “Yes,” I said, turning to him with my arms crossed.
“Why? She broke half the coffee mugs.”
“She tripped carrying a tray of them up from your room. It was an accident, and she hurt herself. She has a contusion on her shin the size of a lemon. You added insult to injury by firing her.”
“That was my favorite mug in there,” he said, looking wounded.
I squeezed my eyes shut and rallied my patience before opening them again. “Neil, grace costs you nothing—and God knows I’ve given you enough of it over the years.”
I turned for my room. “If you don’t want her, get a different person for your floor of the house. I’m keeping her.”
“Ali—”
“What?!”
“I’ve been going to therapy like you asked.” His voice was hopeful.
I knew he’d been going. He’d been emailing me the weekly invoices. He was on week twelve of the sixteen-week ultimatum I’d given him. And he’d gone to some intensive four-day weekend therapy retreat thing last month too, which was weird. He missed Philip’s birthday because of it. He also hadn’t told my parents I wasn’t going with him. He was keeping all his promises, which was not only surprising but also annoying, because it meant I would have to keep mine.
“I only have four more sessions,” he said. “Then we can go together.”
“Yeah. Fine. Whatever.” I went up the stairs to my room and locked the door.
I’d made a deal with the devil, and it was almost time to pay. It was almost time to pay for all of it.
By next month I’d probably be chief of emergency medicine. I’d either be the sole owner of this house or I’d be moving out, Daniel and I would be over, and Neil and I would be in couple’s counseling. The only good part of any of this was that I might get the house. But besides that, I had more to dread than to look forward to.
I took a shower, grabbed my quiche, and headed to Wakan. I got there just in time to help Daniel with chores.
Check-out of the Grant House was eleven a.m. If we cleaned the rooms fast enough, we got done by noon. The new guests didn’t arrive until three o’clock, so we got three whole hours to go do stuff. We’d go to lunch or take a bike ride or walk around. We went to the antique store and browsed, one of our favorite things. Sometimes we’d just curl up together on the four-season porch and read.