The Plumber Always Rings Twice

Author's Note

A slice of life story over two encounters. Does that make it a two-slicer? I don't know. No sex, just a little... well, I don't want to spoil it. But don't get too excited, it's just a short little tale.

*

First Ring

"Oh, this'll be fun," I grumbled, reaching for the doorknob, "explaining my toilet clogging problems to Joe the plumber."

"Hi, I'm Jess." Standing on my front porch was a young woman in jeans and a red nylon jacket with Joe's Plumbing stitched over the left breast. She peered up from her clipboard. "I'm here about the—"

"Clogged toilet," I said. "Yeah, come on in."

There was a flash of lightning, briefly silhouetting Jess from behind, and a rumble of thunder.

"Sorry you had to come out in this," I said, "but there's only the one bathroom, so it's kind of—"

"Urgent." Jess shot me a quick smile. "Not the kind of night you want to squat under a tree in the backyard. Not that you would, um, necessarily do that."

Jess bent forward and slipped a pair of disposable covers over her work boots. "Nice floors," she said, straightening up. "Don't want to track on your hardwood."

"Let me take your jacket," I said. Her polo shirt matched her jacket with the embroidery over the left breast. "Joe's Plumbing," with the 'P' looking like it was made out of pipe.

We stared at each other for a few moments while the rain pattered against the window glass.

Jess broke the silence. "So the, um..."

"Bathroom. Right. Sorry, I was expecting Joe the Plumber."

"My uncle."

"Joe's your uncle?"

"Yeah. You were probably thinking Bob, huh?"

I stopped and looked at her sideways. "Bob?"

"You know. Bob's your uncle?" Jess blinked. "It's like a British thing. You do something hard, but make it look easy. You leave out the details and just say something like, 'and Bob's your uncle, there you have it.'"

"I must have missed that part of the internet."

"Hm," was how Jess summed it up.

"So here it is." I reached in and flicked on the light.

"Nice," she said. "I like the subway tile vibe you've got going on here. Really fits with the style of the house, you know? You do it yourself?"

"Thanks. And no. Contractor just finished it up a couple days ago."

"Kohler fixtures. Quality. If there's one thing those Wisconsin people do better than cheese, it might just be their plumbing fixtures."

"I assume they're made in—"

"Wisconsin. Ya, you betcha." Jess grinned.

I smiled politely, while she turned her attention on the commode.

"You're not flushing any feminine products are you? Sorry, gotta ask."

"No."

"Taco Tuesday?"

"Taco what?"

"Sorry, it's what we call... I mean, like, you get a big bag of tacos to go and all of the sudden you're...you know."

"No, not Taco Tuesday." I suppressed a grin.

"Well, the water level's down," said Jess. "I'm guessing it's a flow thing. Older house, newer fixtures and all."

"A flow thing?"

"Come 'ere for a sec." Jess turned and pried the lid off the back of my toilet tank.

I sidled up next to her in the cramped space, trying not to bump into her.

"Watch this." Jess flushed. The level of the water in the bowl rose a bit and stayed there.

"Okay... It's not flushing."

"But, did you see how quick this cylinder here went up and down?" Jess pointed to the inner workings of the toilet tank and waited for the light bulb to come on in my head.

"Is this the part where you say 'Bob's your uncle'?"

She smirked. "No. That cylinder's what lets the water into the bowl. They used to use flapper balls back in the day and then came the—"

"Flapper balls? Sounds like some kind of prohibition party."

Jess grinned. "Yeah, kinda, but no. It's like somebody cuts a rubber ball in half and glues it to a rubber flap and when you pull the handle, it... You know what? Never mind all that. Point is, you've got this cylinder thingy now. And to meet the stricter water usage restrictions, it slams down real quick after you flush. Only drains, I don't know, probably less than half the tank."

"To save water."

"Exactly. And the plumbing in older houses was—"

"Donald Trump warned me about this."

"'Scuse me?"

"You remember that thing about how housewives should vote for him because he was going to fix our toilets by repealing the whole EPA water usage restrictions."

"I guess I missed that part of the internet."

Now, it was my turn to smirk.

"So, Jess, just what is a gal supposed to do in the face of her socialist new world order toilet?" I laid it on thick, but she rolled with it.

"Well, uh, ma'am. Remember what I was sayin' about Wisconsin and cheese curds."

"And Kohler plumbing fixtures."

"And Kohler plumbing fixtures. Yes, ma'am." Jess wore an impish look. "You can either flush multiple times. Like you do the Taco Tuesday bit, you flush, and then you clean up after Taco Tuesday and flush again. Or..."

"Or?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Or you just hold the handle down longer." Jess put her fingers on the flusher. "Observe."

She held the handle down while I watched the entire contents of the tank drain into the bowl. The water got right up to the rim and gurgled a bit before Jess let off.

"Technically meeting EPA guidelines," she said. "while still giving you some water in reserve for—"

"For Taco Tuesday."

No sooner had I finished my quip, than the water that had built up in the bowl suddenly let loose with a mighty whoosh.

"Bob's your uncle." I looked at Jess. She looked at me.

"Right." Jess picked up the tank lid and set it back where it belonged. "I'm surprised your contractor didn't mention this when they installed the new fixtures."

"It was my brother-in-law. Ex. I mean he's still my—"

"No, I got it," Jess said. "I'll get things cleaned up in here."

"Actually, I kind of need to..."

"Right." Jess squeezed around behind me and stepped outside.

I pushed the door closed, but just short of hard enough. I stood in a half squat, debating between latching the door completely or emptying my bladder. My bladder won the day.

"Just remember, hold the handle down if she backs up on you." Jess's voice reminded me she was still just outside.

"Not Taco Tuesday, Jess."

"Right. But, you know... if it were..."

I rested my hands on my knees and grinned. "Then I would have latched the door and used the exhaust fan."

I heard Jess chuckling in the hall and pictured the smirk on her face as I turned on the tap to wash up.

"So that's it, then?" I asked, as I toweled my hands dry.

"Well, yeah. But, I gotta charge you for the whole hour, being it was an after hours call and all." Jess scratched at the back of her neck. "So, if there's anything else, plumbingwise, you've got going on here..."

"How 'bout coffee?"

"Oh, yeah. Never throw the grounds down the sink unless you've got a disposal unit. Even then. You don't know how many times..."

"No, I mean, do you want a cup. Um, before I send you back out in the rain."

"Oh. Oh, coffee's good." Jess stood in my hall with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, studying my hardwood floor. "Your, uh, your brother-in-law remodel the kitchen, too?"

"No, it's still original, so don't get your hopes up. The bathroom is in much better showroom condition." I led the way through the door and flipped on the overhead fluorescent.

"Cool countertops." Jess traced out a faded red atomic boomerang on the laminate.

"Yeah, for 1950. I think that's the last time the kitchen got an update." I filled the kettle and lit the stove. "You can kick off your booties if you want, the linoleum does not need protection from the elements."

Jess just shrugged. "Where's you coffee machine?"

"I use a press."

"Sounds fancy."

"I guess. Have a seat. Water'll be hot in a few minutes."

Jess parked herself on the bench side of the little breakfast nook and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. "Thanks for the coffee," she said, while looking around the kitchen.

"Don't you think you should taste it first?"

"I don't know. Chilly night like this. As long as it's hot, that's like eighty percent of it right there."

A short silence hung in the air before I walked over with two steaming mugs. "Ready for the other twenty percent?"

Jess blew across the rim and then pronounced it good with a sip and an "Mmm."

"Glad you like it."

"The kitchen here's got a lot of potential. If you need any plumbing help..." Jess leaned forward and dug around in her back pocket. "Here's my card."

"The plumber always rings twice, then. Is that it?" I said, and set the card on the table between us.

"Oh, you've read it? The Postman Always Rings Twice? No, I'm not going to help you kill your husband so you can have the diner all to yourself."

I raised an eyebrow. "Don't need you to. Ex husband, remember." I took a sip from my mug. "I guess the movie was true to the book, then. I never read it."

"You should. Classic Noir. Good read on a rainy night like tonight. Movie's good too. Jack Nicholson, Jessica Lange. Hot."

"Nicholson? I never really found him that handsome. I think it was that Stephen King movie he was in that ruined it for me."

"Jessica Lange, actually." Jess wrapped her hands around her mug and stared into it. "I was more into Jessica Lange."

"Oh." I met Jess's eyes briefly before she looked away.

"I should probably go." Jess let slid her cup toward the center of the table and placed her hands on the edges as she started to rise.

My gaze was frozen on her face. Her eyebrows were knit together after, perhaps inadvertently, laying all her cards out on the table like that.

"What? No." I shot my hand out and covered hers, wondering for a moment why I did it, and then slowly drawing back. "It's not a big deal."

"Really? Rainy night. After hours call." Jess pitched her voice a little lower. "All alone... just you and the plumber... having coffee."

"Stop," I said. "You'll never be cast as the shady drifter type. You've got too much of an honest face."

"Honest." Jess smirked. "Not something most people say about plumbers once they get the bill."

"Everybody should be paid for the work they do."

"Even if it's just holding the handle down for five more seconds and saying 'Bob's your uncle'?"

"Even if...yes."

Jess sat back down and leaned forward again, digging in her back pocket to produce a pen this time. Joe's Plumbing was printed along its length.

She pulled the business card to her side of the table and flipped it over. With her thumb, she clicked the pen. "Tell you what, um... um..."

"Eve," I said.

"Eve, right. Sorry, I'm terrible with names. Tell you what, Eve. You have any more plumbing trouble, just call me direct here." She wrote her number and slid the card back to the middle. "If it's simple, I'll fix it for free. I really feel like I ... I mean, all I did was hold the handle down."

"Thank you, Jess." I pulled the card toward me, rotating it so the digits were the right way up. "You're going to make some girl very happy someday with that honest face of yours."

She smiled and looked away. "Thank you for the coffee, ma'am. It's a nice gesture on a cold night like this."

I showed Jess to the door.

Standing on the porch, she turned. "Just don't throw the grounds in the sink, or I'll have to come back."

"Don't worry."

She climbed in her truck and disappeared into the night.

* * *

Second Ring

I got the kitchen remodeled. Of course I did. And I have to say my brother-in-law and his crew did a nice job. They even installed a garbage disposal unit on the sink. 'Half-horsepower,' he said about the thing. 'You'll never clog that up.'

I spent the next two weeks trying to prove him wrong. I threw anything and everything down there. Coffee grounds, spoiled leftovers, you name it. In the end, I think it was the potato peels that did it.

I plucked Jess's business card from under the magnet on the fridge and turned it over in my hands a few times. The deed was done. I pulled my phone from my back pocket.

I got her voicemail, which made things a little easier for me.

"Jess? Hi. Eve here. Um, remember when you said to call you for any plumbing help in the kitchen? I think I need to take you up on that. Give me a call, or um, just stop by. I'll be here... In my kitchen..."

I hung up, shook my head, and started in on step two of my ill-conceived plan. Chicken Marsala.

* * *

The doorbell rang.

"At least it's not raining," Jess said as she looked up from the clipboard she was holding. She was sporting a red Joe's Plumbing baseball cap with her hair pulled into a short ponytail through the back. Cute.

"No. No it's not," I said.

Jess pulled out a pair of disposable covers for her boots.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about—"

She slipped them on anyway. "So, it's not Tuesday... is it?"

"Hmm? Oh, Taco Tuesday. No. No. It's the kitchen, actually."

Jess followed along behind.

"Looks nice," she said when we got there. "I really like the cabinets. Your brother-in-law, right?"

"Ex. But, yeah."

"Right." Jess tucked her clipboard under her arm. "Smells good, too."

"Chicken Marsala," I said, not quite able to meet her gaze. "I'm making oven roasted potatoes to go with it. I think maybe the peelings..."

Jess looked at the sink. The water level had gone down some, but there was about an inch still stubbornly hanging on. She flipped the switch. The disposal groaned, but didn't spin.

"Your, uh, brother-in-law leave you any instructions for this thing?"

"Only that it was a half-horsepower model and shouldn't give me any trouble."

"He didn't happen to give you a hex wrench at all? These things usually come with one."

"I don't know." I opened the junk drawer and pulled out the owner's manual I hadn't read. Taped to the back was a plastic sleeve "There's this thing."

Jess opened the sleeve and dropped an L-shaped metal tool in her hand. "Hex wrench," she said, flashing a quick smile.

After that, she opened the cabinet and disappeared under the counter. There was some noise and I noticed the water in the sink rippling. It started draining away about the same time I lost the battle to keep my eyes off Jess's denim-clad rear end.

She popped her head out.

I tried to act casual.

"Try it now," she said.

I flipped the switch and the water went down the drain with a mighty slurp. "Hm," I said.

"On the underside, right in the middle, there's a place to fit this wrench. If it clogs again, stick it in there and wiggle it around to loosen things up." Jess slipped the hex wrench back into its plastic pouch and handed it to me.

"Um. Thanks." I swallowed hard.

"Well, I kinda owe you from last time, so no charge." Jess straightened her cap.

"How about dinner? There's enough here for—"

"How many potato peels did you throw in there anyway?"

"A lot." I stared at my shoes. "Coffee grounds, too. About two weeks worth."

"Hm," was all she said.

"You like Chicken Marsala?"

"Eve."

"Yeah?"

"I see what you're doing here. I'm—"

"It's stupid. I'm sorry," I said, trying, but unable to look her in the eye.

"I was going to say, I'm flattered." Jess tilted her head, trying to look at me, and then straightened back up. "I'm also not seeing anyone at the moment. But. How do I say this..."

I stopped trying to summon the courage to meet her eye and balled my hands instead.

"You're recently single. Maybe you had a bad break-up, I don't know, and maybe you want to try something new. But, that's not where I'm at. I'm not experimenting anymore. I know where I stand. I've known since middle school."

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"So, Eve," Jess said. "If you're okay with it, I'm going to kiss you and you can spend the rest of the night thinking about if it felt right for you or not."

"Um, okay..."

Jess reached up and cupped the back of my head in her hand.

"Your Chicken Marsala smells delicious by the way," she whispered.

And then she kissed me.

It wasn't a quick peck, like let's get this over with and on to the free meal, but a long, lingering kiss that started out with a tender brushing of the lips and ended with just a hint of tongue.

"I'll let you mull that over," she said. "'Til then, what do you say to starting as friends?"

"I... I think I could do that." I heaved a sigh. "You're a good kisser, Jess."

"Thanks, Eve."

I felt my cheeks warming. "Would you like some wine with dinner?"

"Sure. What do you recommend?"

"Chardonnay alright with you?" I pulled out a bottle and two glasses.

"Mm-hm. You know, I really like these new countertops. The 50s retro thing was cool too, but this is nice." Jess looked around. "The breakfast nook got an update, too."

"Yeah, I refinished that myself. Took a while." I handed her a glass of wine.

"I like it," she said.

"Thanks. Do you mind taking a peek at the potatoes? You're closer."

"Sure, no problem."

As she turned around, I snuck a peak at Jess's rear end in denim. I felt an impish grin spreading as I touched my finger to my lips, imagining it was her mouth still pressed against me.

* * *

Afterword

Short and sweet as advertised. Hope you enjoyed it.

--WP