A Roof Over Their Heads. M. K. Stelmack

angled in beside him and steadied the pipe exactly where he wanted it.

      “Thanks,” he said, for the second time in this visit. At least this time, it made sense.

      “It’s me that should be thanking you.”

      That was true.

      “I didn’t know it would be so involved,” she continued.

      Anything involving Connie got way more complicated than necessary. “Turns out that I just can’t clamp off the valves,” he explained. “Looks as if the entire waterworks is getting revamped so I have to install a drainpipe first.”

      “Oh, I heard you leave. You went for supplies?” Was there reproach in her voice, as if he should’ve checked in with her?

      “I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you.” Despite his attempt at politeness, he could hear belligerence in his voice.

      Her eyes were on the pipe as she replied coolly, “I didn’t know I was not supposed to wonder where you went. After all, wondering about us was what brought you here this morning.”

      He didn’t answer because she’d made a couple of good points he wasn’t about to concede. He chalked a line on the pipe.

      “Excuse me. I need to use the cutter,” he said instead. Rather than let her back out and exit before he followed with the pipe, he tried to edge past her, which forced them into shuffling around each other, dodging pipes and each other’s body parts.

      Could his time with her be more awkward? Free of the tight quarters of the utility room, he headed straight for the cutter he’d had to rent, but that would be a conversation with Connie, and fired it up. Two minutes of noise and he was done. This time Alexi gave him plenty of room to get around her, but that didn’t stop her from following him in. Callie lingered at the entrance.

      “Since I am in a wondering state of mind,” she said, steadying the pipe for him again, “I was wondering if, since you lived here before, if you know the number of the landlord. I got her cell number but she’s not answering. I thought there might be a landline I could use.”

      Seth took his time lining the pipe up with the fitting to buy himself a few seconds of fast thinking. “Landline won’t do you much use. She’s in Las Vegas.”

      “Las Vegas? Are you sure?”

      “Very.”

      She looked over her upraised arm and pinned him with her full blue gaze. “How do you know this?”

      Seth fiddled with his end of the pipe. “How do I know this?”

      “Yes.” The faint hiss at the end of her one word conveyed her opinion of his delay tactic.

      “I was at a ball game last night and a guy there knows Connie. Said she was in Vegas.” There, not a word of a lie. He slipped the fitting over the freshly cut end of the pipe. Perfect.

      He slid his hand along the pipe to hers. It was a beautiful hand. Large and capable and smooth, like his favorite hammer and with a good heft to it. “I got it,” he said.

      She dropped her hand and it immediately strayed to her back pocket. She’d already done that three times since coming downstairs. Strange habit. “I will have to find out what my rights are,” she said. “I didn’t sign up for this. I should’ve asked the officer what I could do when I had him on the line.”

      It would serve Connie right if Alexi took legal action. Hadn’t he warned Connie just last night? But if history was anything to go by, his sister would go down dragging as many as she could grab hold of—like Mel and him. “She might come around yet.”

      Alexi shoved her beautiful hands into the tangled heap of hair. “Meanwhile, what am I supposed to do? What about the kids? I can’t go back. And I’ve nowhere else to go.”

      She clamped her mouth to a thin line and looked away. If he was anybody other than being a practical stranger to her, he could’ve hugged her, told her everything was going to be all right. If he was anybody other than who he was, he could make things right. As it was, he stood there, holding the pipe, clueless about what to say or do. No, he knew what to do: attach the other end of the pipe, but he wasn’t about to restart another round of shuffling that would bring him alongside her body parts.

      Her hand went to her back pocket again, and it dawned on him what she wanted. Her phone. That’s where she carried her phone, which was charging now. The world was addicted to phones but her case was severe.

      “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not your problem, and you are being so kind.”

      Kind? Hardly. He didn’t want to lie to her. It made her think she had to be grateful to him and from the way her voice had gone tight, she hated depending on him. He understood; he didn’t want her to depend on him in any way, shape or form. He decided to set the record straight. “Not doing it for you. It’s for Connie.”

      She frowned. “For the landlady?” Her eyes widened. “I mean—of course. I didn’t realize you and she might be...” She trailed off and took a step backward, which brought her up hard against a stud.

      He now had room to move to the other end of the pipe but no way did he want Alexi thinking he actually chose Connie. “She’s my sister.”

      “Your sister?” Her eyes narrowed. “So yesterday, when you asked about the landlady, you were really asking if your sister had contacted me?”

      He took his time to get to the other end of the pipe. “Yep,” he said, his back half-turned to her. “I didn’t want to get involved in her business.” He shoved the other end of the pipe into a fitting. It went in easy and straight. Good. So long as he used his hands and not his mouth, things went well. “Still don’t, but she’s a bad habit.”

      He felt her slide behind him and out of the room. At the door, she paused. “You think helping others is a bad habit?”

      Seth had long ago lost track of the number of people he’d been obliged to help during the past couple of years, all because he had helped the wrong person. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess so.”

      A smile played at the edge of her mouth. “So you’re saying that I shouldn’t feel guilty that you took time out of your schedule to help me?”

      Guilt. He knew too much of that. “You can only be guilty for your own choices, and it was my choice to come here today.”

      It was the truth. He’d really done what he wanted, when he wanted.

      Her hand moved and he supposed it was going to her phantom phone. Instead it rose to her cheek, her hair, to wrap around the back of her neck, as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

      “Thanks,” she whispered. “I needed to hear that.”

      Whaddaya know, Seth thought, he’d made her feel better. His bad habit had finally done some genuine good.