Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Aunt Tess! You better come quick!” Tate calls from upstairs.
Who said weekends were relaxing? In our house, I spend Saturdays working every bit as hard as I do at the diner, just at home. I go upstairs, almost to the top stair, when I hear the sound of running water.
I reach the bathroom door, where I spend half a second taking in the scene before responding.
Tate is standing on the side of the bathtub, looking down as Sam tries to mop up water on the floor from the overflowing toilet with one soaking wet towel.
“What happened?” I lunge toward the plunger behind the toilet. “Both of you get in the bathtub.”
“Tate tried to flush a teddy bear down the toilet ’cause he didn’t want it anymore,” Sam explains.
“A teddy bear?” I put the plunger in the toilet and plunge with everything I’ve got.
If our floors get ruined, we’re sunk. We’ll never be able to afford to fix them.
“It’s a dog, not a teddy bear,” Tate says.
“Hannah, bring towels!” I yell. “Every towel you can find!”
The plunger’s not working. I toss it aside and get down on my knees, reaching into the toilet to find the stuffed dog.
“Eww! There’s poop in there, Aunt Tess!” Tate says, laughing.
The ends of my hair are in the toilet and my jeans are soaked. But I have to get this toilet unclogged. I can feel something, but it’s jammed in too hard for me to pull out.
“What’s going on?” Hannah asks, appearing in the doorway with two towels in hand.
“Hannah, Aunt Tess touched poop!”
“More towels!” I yell.
“They’re all hanging up to dry; these are all I could find.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. This situation is starting to feel dire.
“Whoa, let me in there,” a deep voice says behind Hannah.
Dom walks into the bathroom. How he got here, I have no idea. He steps through the water building up on the floor and goes to the back of the toilet, turning something.
The water flow slows to a stop. I pull my arm out of the toilet, both mortified by my appearance and grateful he’s here.
“The water’s off,” he says. “I heard there’s a towel shortage?”
“Our dryer is broken, and it’s laundry day, so they’re hanging up downstairs.”
He nods. “Let’s see if we can borrow some towels from neighbors and maybe a wet/dry vac, too.”
“Okay, good idea.”
“Let’s get you guys out of there.” Dom lifts Tate out of the bathtub and carries him to the doorway, where he deposits him onto the carpet, then he does the same with Sam.
“My Aunt Tess touched poop,” Tate says.
Nice. He doesn’t even know Dom, but he’s still compelled to tell him.
“Boys, go search the basement for towels. If you find any, bring them up here.”
They leave, and I stand up, locking gazes with Dom.
“I don’t know how you got here, but thanks.”
“Zane and I were about to install a new storm door out front when we heard the commotion.”
“I can’t afford a new door.”
He waves a hand. “Already bought it. It’s Zane’s next project—learning how to use some tools.”
That stirs something up inside me, but I don’t have time to think about it right now. Dom gestures toward the bathroom doorway.
“I’m gonna go find a wet/dry vac and some towels.”
“Thanks. I’ll try some other neighbors.”
“Let Zane and I work on this. You get changed into some dry clothes and handle those boys.”
He grins and I shake my head.
“A stuffed dog. One of my nephews put a stuffed dog in the toilet.”
One corner of his lips tips up in amusement as he types into his phone. “Hey, remind me of your address.”
I give it to him. I’d also recite my social security number right now if he asked because he took charge and saved the day when I was shoulder-deep in toilet water.
“Are my floors ruined?” My voice comes out weary. “Just tell me so I know.”
“Nothing’s ruined.”
“Shit,” Zane says from the hallway. “Did Sam take a monster crap again?”
“Come on,” Dom says to him. “We’re gonna go see if we can borrow a wet/dry vac and some towels from a neighbor.”
Once they’re gone, I pull off my soaking wet socks and go into my bedroom to change. I wish I could take a shower, but with the condition of the bathroom right now, that’ll have to wait.
Sam and Tate come racing up the stairs, Tate holding a dish towel. I laugh as I set it on the wet bathroom floor, where it’s immediately soaked through.
“Sorry you had to touch poop, Aunt Tess,” Tate says.
“It’s okay, Tater. But no more trying to flush toys down the toilet, okay?”
“I could make you a jelly sandwich if you want.”
“That’s okay. I’m just going to change clothes and then I’ll be back downstairs, alright?”
The boys run back downstairs and I walk into my bedroom, taking my phone out of my pocket to check messages.