he actually got down on one knee, right there in the bandstand at Shafer Park.”
“Seriously? Aw, Laurie.”
“I know! Who’d have thought? I love him so much, and I was going to be so mad at him for breaking up with me. And now, look!” She waved her hand around again. “We’re getting married. I almost burst waiting for you to get in so I could show you.”
“Let me see it again.”
Thrilled to oblige, Laurie held out her hand. “He picked it out himself.”
“It’s just beautiful. It’s just perfect. When are you—”
The door jangled as two customers came in. “We’ll talk more later,” Clare told her.
It took another half hour before she could get upstairs, organize, and settle herself. Once she’d returned the calls, she remembered the leak and hurried down to check it out.
She was crouched on the restroom floor, a bucket under the slow drip, when Avery came in.
“I’ve sent you a zillion texts this morning.”
“Dentist, trauma, engagement, work. And now plumbing. God, what a day, and it’s not even noon.”
“Laurie told me about her and Tyler—with sparkly rainbows shooting out of her eyes. And it’s nearly one.”
“It can’t be.”
“It is, and I’ve only got a minute. Hope’s here.”
“What? When?”
“She got here about eleven, which you’d know if you checked your phone. A couple of the guys from the inn crew carried up the furniture she brought with her. She’s here!”
“Does she need any help with the rest of her things?”
“I haven’t really had a chance to talk with her yet. I’m going to try to go over, help her set up, unpack and all that after the lunch rush. Can you come over?”
“I . . .” Already one in the afternoon. “Let me see if Mazie can watch the kids after school for a while.”
“If she can’t, I bet Beckett would. Unless you’re still having your lovers’ spat.”
“Lovers’ spat?”
“That’s the word I got. You were in my place a couple nights ago, arguing.”
“We were not arguing. For God’s sake.” Even though he was just wrong. “But I’m not asking Beckett to watch the kids after he’s worked all day.”
“Whatever. Try to make it, even if you can’t stay long. She’s a stranger in a strange land, after all.”
“I’ll work something out.”
“Cool.” Avery glanced toward the drip plopping musically in the bucket. “You ought to have Beckett fix that leak.”
Clare scowled up at Avery, whose hair edged closer to maroon now with thick gold streaks. “What is he, my man of all work?”
“Hey, a nice benefit of sleeping with a handyman who seems to like your kids is using him when you need him. I’ve got to get back. I’ll see you at Hope’s apartment.”
She wasn’t going to use Beckett. She’d handled everything that came along for six years without a man, handy or otherwise. Just because she’d started seeing Beckett didn’t mean she’d suddenly become incompetent.
Annoyed, she dashed back upstairs, where she kept a basic tool kit. She just needed a wrench, just needed to tighten the pipe joint. Anybody could do that.
“I’m going to take care of the leak,” she told Laurie when she came down again. “If anyone calls for me, just take a message. This shouldn’t take long.”
“Are you sure? I could call over. They’d send one of the men from the inn.”
“I’m getting you your own tool kit for an engagement present.”
“I’d rather have a sexy nightie.”
“Tool kit.” She shook the one she carried. “Men aren’t always around, you know. Women have to know how to handle basic household repairs.”
“If you say so.”
“And I do.”
Now more determined than ever, Clare marched to the restroom. She sat on the floor, opened the tool kit. She’d dealt with plumbing issues before—with squeaky doors, drawers that stuck. She’d dealt with the epitome of parental frustration. Toys labeled some assembly required. When she’d been married, she’d had to learn to do what needed doing as she’d so often been on her own. And since, she’d continued to learn.
She could hardly afford to call a plumber every time something dripped. She’d be damned if she called her father when the gutters were clogged, or her lawn mower started sputtering—which it was—or some other minor annoyance cropped up.
She could certainly fix a little drip without issuing a help wanted bulletin. She picked up a wrench and got to work.
Within ten frustrating minutes the little drip became a slow but steady stream of water.
But that was okay, that was all right. She knew where she’d gone wrong. All she had to