“Let’s fucking hope.”
Jiggs digs around in his lunch box and pulls out a giant pickle. “So how’s my sister?” he asks, taking a snap off the cured cucumber.
“Watching you eat that is like watching you eat a dick. I can’t.”
“Fuck off,” he laughs, swallowing. But he doesn’t take another bite.
“Elin’s . . . Elin,” I shrug. “I’m trying to see her without pushing her because I’m scared as hell to go right back to screaming matches again. But fuck, Jiggs, I’m tired of not being home. I’m sick of not seeing her every day.”
“You think she’s coming around at all?”
“I got papers in the mail when I went by Cord’s at lunch,” I laugh. “Not divorce papers, just a set from Parker explaining the process and what he would suggest. So I guess not.”
He whistles between his teeth. “She’ll be all right. Just give her a little space. Let her come to you.”
“She—” I’m cut off by my phone ringing. I grab it out of my pocket to see Elin’s face. “It’s her,” I grin, swiping the screen. “Hey, E!”
“Hi,” she says, irritation thick in her voice. “What’s the trick to the furnace?”
“The trick to the furnace?” I laugh. “Why? What’s it doing?”
“That damn thing it does every winter. I have no idea what I’m looking at and it’s cold in here.”
“Want me to come fix it?” I grin, looking at Jiggs.
She sighs. “Just tell me how to fix it and I’ll do it. Or I’ll call my brother.”
“But I was your first call. I like that,” I laugh.
“Forget it. I’ll call Jiggs.”
“He’s standing right here, and he knows nothing about furnaces, right, Jiggs?”
“I got nothing, Elin!” he shouts as I hold the phone up in the air.
“See?” I say. “You better let me help you.”
She yelps in the phone, making me laugh.
“Are you in the basement?” I ask, trying to imagine her in the place she’s deemed the scariest place on earth.
“Yes,” she whines.
“Don’t look on the north windowsill. The spider that lives in that web is as big as my hand.”
“Fuck you,” she says, her voice wavering.
“And the snake that lives—”
“Forget it!” she screams.
Her feet pounding against the stairs leading to the kitchen has me laughing out loud. “Elin, calm down. I was only kidding.”
“Just come fix it. Please,” she begs as the basement door shuts and locks behind her.
“You don’t have to ask me twice. Be there in a second.”
I give a quick salute to Jiggs and hop in my truck. Racing the 8.2 miles across town to the house, I get there in half the time it should take.
Jogging to the back door, my breath billowing in front of me, I rap against the door quickly before pushing it open. She’s standing in front of the stove, a sweater wrapped around her shoulders.
“Hey,” I say, noticing how the sunlight streaming in from the window makes her look like she has a halo.
“Hey,” she says, looking defeated.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
She shrugs, her shoulders slumping.
“You didn’t want to call me, huh?” I laugh.
The sound eases her posture and she stands straight and smiles. “No, but I’m freezing, so I didn’t have a choice.”
“Thank God for small favors.” I toss the envelope from her attorney on the counter. “You can have that.”
Turning to head to the basement door, I hear her pick up the envelope.
“No, that’s your copy to read,” she says from behind me.
“Already told you,” I say, opening the door, “I’m not participating in this madness.”
I leave her, jaw hanging wide, as I barrel down the rickety stairs and work my magic on the furnace. In less than three minutes, it’s up and running. Elin cheers from the kitchen.
Bounding back up the steps, her smiling face is waiting on me.
“Thank you,” she says earnestly. “I know you didn’t have to come over here and do that.”
“Of course I did.”
She frowns, but doesn’t argue. Progress.
“You know,” I say, trying to figure out how to delay my inevitable departure, “it’s warmer outside than it is in here.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t take long to heat up.”
“Let’s go outside,” I say, trying to hide the fact that I’m scheming ways to stay with her.
“For what?”
“To not freeze to death,” I say like she’s silly, and wrap my arm around the small of her back. She lets me guide her outside. She feels so good against my arm that I have half a notion to keep walking and walking until we are at the sea.
The sky is a ripple of pinks and purples and oranges as it begins its drop over the horizon and I tuck her into my side as we watch the colors bleed together.
“Thank you for helping me,” she whispers, not taking her eyes off the sunset. “I was scared to call you.”
“Why would you be scared to call me?”