With This Ring. Lee McKenzie
their handles crossed and their bristles facing each other. Like they belonged together. She quickly pulled hers out and set it on the shelf. Somehow the two toothbrushes together seemed way too personal.
She was about to leave the bathroom when she spotted her jewelry beside the sink. She scooped up the pieces, but one of the earrings slipped out of her palm.
She grabbed for it and missed. “Damn it!” she said as it slithered down the drain.
She peered into the opening and saw it was partly blocked by two cross pieces. If she had any kind of luck the earring would have caught on one of them, but this was not her lucky day. The earring was gone.
She opened the doors of the vanity and pushed aside a stack of toilet paper so she could see the pipes. She had no idea what she was looking for, but she supposed the earring would be caught in the lowest part of the curved pipe. When Brent came home, she’d ask about calling a plumber.
She could always forget about the earring. It wasn’t as if she would ever wear it again.
Would Gerald expect her to return the jewelry? Knowing him, he probably would. Well, he could think again. She could take them back to the store and get something more practical. Something she’d actually wear, something that wouldn’t remind her that she’d almost ruined her life. Except anything she bought with that money would be a reminder that she nearly had. Better to do the right thing and return the jewelry.
And that meant asking Brent to help her get the earring out of the drain.
“What the hell,” she said to her reflection in the mirror. “What’s one more favor?”
She put the necklace and the other earring in the top drawer of the little dresser in the bedroom. While she was standing there, the phone rang. She ran into the kitchen to check the caller ID. C. Girling, again. “Oh, buzz off,” she said to the phone. “If he wanted to talk to you, he would have called you back an hour ago.”
She went back to the bedroom to finish putting her things away.
After she folded the shirts and set them inside a drawer, she held the nightgown up to herself. It was made of thin, pale-blue cotton, a little on the short side but otherwise fairly practical. Very much the sort of thing that was meant for sleeping in. It couldn’t have been more different from the seductive pink silk number she’d intended to wear tonight. She quickly folded the nightgown, set it next to the shirts and closed the drawer.
The only other thing in the bag was a pair of sandals. She slipped off Brent’s socks and tried them on. Not a brand name she recognized, but they were leather and very comfortable. They were new and only a half size too big. Perfect, really, considering that her only other options were either the socks or the wedding shoes she’d left by the front door.
She could use another set of underwear but as welcome as they would have been, she was grateful she didn’t have to accept panties from a man she barely knew. If she washed the things she was wearing and hung them up before she went to bed, they would be dry by morning.
Max appeared to have fallen asleep, but he suddenly sat up as though listening for something and then leaped off the bed and raced out of the room. A minute later she heard Brent’s key in the front door.
He was in the kitchen when she caught up with him, removing take-out containers from a large paper bag. The scents had her mouth watering. “That smells so good.”
“I picked up a few groceries, too, so we’ll have something for breakfast.”
She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Gerald was the only man she’d ever had breakfast with and the thought of waking up in the morning and having breakfast with Brent made her feel strangely self-conscious.
“Pull up a stool,” he said. “I’ll grab some plates.”
“And then after we’ve eaten, I think we’ll have to call a plumber.”
He set the last container on the counter and looked at her. “Oka-a-ay. Why?”
“I left my earrings on the vanity in the bathroom and one of them kind of went down the drain.” Like my marriage, she thought, swallowing the laughter rising in the back of her throat.
“Those were beautiful earrings,” he said.
“You mean it’s gone?”
“Oh, it’s still down there.” He looked way too amused by this.
“So if we call a plumber, he’ll be able to get it out for me?”
“Not necessary.”
That sounded encouraging. “You know how to get things out of drains?”
“Piece of cake. Did you run any water after you dropped it?”
“No.”
“Good. I’ll grab a couple of tools and be right back.”
All sorts of tempting aromas rose from the take-out containers lined up on the counter. She felt a little light-headed, she was so hungry. “We could leave it till after we eat.”
“How much did those earrings cost?”
She shrugged. “A lot?”
“We’ll get it now.” He went out the back door and disappeared into a small shed. A few minutes later he was back with a red plastic bucket and a handful of tools.
She followed him to the bathroom. “Is there something I can do to help?”
He gave her two tools. “Sure. You can hand these to me when I need them.”
She took the tools and stood back while he opened the vanity and emptied it. Then he set the bucket under the sink.
“Pass me that small wrench.”
She knelt on the floor and gave him the smaller of the two tools she was holding, which turned out to be the right one because he used it to unscrew something from the underside of the pipe. Some gray-colored sludge drained into the bucket.
Max squeezed into the tiny bathroom, nearly knocking her over. She grabbed Brent’s shoulder to steady herself.
He glanced back at her and the oversized dog. “I should have put him outside.”
“I can do that,” Leslie offered. But before she had a chance to move, Max jumped into the bathtub.
“He’s fine in there,” Brent said. “At least he’s out of the way.” He swirled the crud that had drained into the bucket. “It must still be caught in the trap,” he said. He got down on the floor on his back, wedged his shoulders between the open doors of the vanity and angled his head under the sink.
She had no idea what kind of trap he was talking about.
With one hand he groped for a tool and grabbed her knee instead. “Sorry. I need the other wrench.”
She handed him the only other tool she had. “That doesn’t look like a wrench.”
“Basin wrench.” It clanged against the pipe and his biceps flexed as he wedged it into position. He heaved on it a couple of times and his T-shirt strained against his chest, then finally rode up, exposing hard, tanned abs. Very hard. Very nice. She tried to look away, but her eyes seemed to have a different idea.
Max leaned out of the tub and nudged her shoulder. Good dog, she thought. I needed a distraction.
Brent loosened some rings on the pipes and the curvy piece came away. He shoved himself out of the vanity, sat up and squinted as he looked into one end of the pipe. Then he tipped it her way so she could have a look. “There it is.”
As he scrambled to his feet, she jumped up and took a step backward. Max got to his feet, too, but he stayed in the bathtub. Brent set the bucket in the tub under the faucet and turned on a trickle of water, letting it run into the pipe.
The dog stuck his nose under the stream.
“Come