and through the living area out to the kitchen and frown as I take in the sight.
The dishwasher is pulled out from the wall, and Fletcher is on his back underneath it.
There are tools scattered all over the kitchen floor, and he is shining the flashlight on his phone up into it. “Hi, Mom,” he calls. “I’m fixing the dishwasher.”
“Great.” I frown at my mother. “Does he know what he’s doing?” I mouth.
“No.” She widens her eyes and shrugs. “He doesn’t.”
God.
“How was it, love?” Mom smiles as she pulls me into a hug.
“It was wonderful. Thank you so much for watching the kids.” Woofy, our dog, comes flying around the corner with a huge cone on his head. “What the heck happened to Woofy?” I ask.
“Oh, he chased a squirrel under a metal fence and cut his back,” Mom says.
“Oh no. Is he okay?” I bend and pull my faithful friend’s face to mine. “Are you okay?” I ask him.
“Yes, but he got stitches, and now he needs to wear a cone so that he can’t chew them out.”
“Ugh, why didn’t you tell me over the phone?”
“Because we wanted you to relax. I’m going to take a shower, and then I want to hear everything.” She disappears upstairs.
“Okay.” I exhale heavily as I look around at the chaos.
“Where are my presents?” Patrick asks.
“They’re wrapped up. You can have them tomorrow. I have to unpack my entire suitcase to find them, and it’s too late now,” I say.
“Aww.” He frowns as he puts his hands on his hips in disgust. “I’ve been waiting up for this.”
“I thought you were waiting up for me.” I smirk as I tickle him and pull him into a hug.
“I was, really—I was just pretending.” He corrects himself for being insensitive.
I glance over and see Harry sitting on the couch. He never demands my attention but needs it more than anyone. I go and sit beside him, and Patrick flops on my lap.
“What have I missed, Harry?” I ask.
“Everything,” he says, clearly unimpressed. “You’ve been gone too long, and I don’t want you going away again. I was getting out of control at school with you not here.”
I smile and mess up his hair. “Okay, no more trips.”
“Do you promise?” he asks.
“I promise.”
Fletcher climbs up from underneath the dishwasher and turns it on. “I fixed it, Mom,” he announces.
I smile. Fletcher likes to fix things. I think he thinks that’s what he should do as the man of the house. “Thanks, buddy.” I hold my arms out for him, and he comes and hugs me. “I missed you.” I squeeze him tight. “Thanks for taking care of everyone.”
I’m not joking; I’m really not going away again. I missed them desperately.
The dishwasher begins to churn, and Fletcher smiles proudly. “Told you I fixed it.”
“I never had any doubts.” I smile.
“Harry and Patrick, upstairs to clean your teeth. I’ll come up in a moment. You have school tomorrow.”
They moan and walk upstairs.
Fletcher packs up all the tools into the toolbox. “I’m taking them out to the garage.”
“Thanks, buddy.”
He disappears outside.
I go to the bathroom and then turn the television channel. I’m walking over to the fridge when I feel something wet on my foot. Huh?
I glance down, and my eyes widen in horror.
Water is flying out of the bottom of the dishwasher; the entire floor is flooded, and it is running into the next room.
“Ahh!” I yell. “Fletcher. Turn the water off.” He doesn’t reply, and I run to the linen closet and grab whatever I can to stop the house from flooding. “Fletcher!” I scream as I throw blankets onto the floor. “Quick.”
He appears, and his face falls in horror as he sees the flooding.
“Don’t just stand there!” I yell. “Turn the water off.”
He runs outside.
The water is spurting out of the bottom of the dishwasher now like a fire hose.
The kitchen is four inches deep, and the living area carpet is all wet too.
What the fuck did he do? “Ahh,” I cry as I try to make a dam so it won’t go farther.
The water turns off, and I pant as I work fast to try to stop the carnage.
Fletcher comes running back in. “What do I do?”
“Get some towels; help me mop this up, honey.” He runs off, and we get to work.
“What the hell happened?” I hear Mom cry. I look to the top of the stairs and see my mother sopping wet and wrapped in a towel with a headful of shampoo. “I