Unexpected

Chapter 11

Dane

I know I'm not hearing my name being called when all I want is an ice-cold beer and the UFC match I paid to stream on my TV.

"Dane! Wait, please! I need some help."

Shit. I drop my duffle bag on the floor and turn to see my new, needy neighbor running across my yard.

"Not another sugar crisis, I hope."

I was trying to be funny, but my irritation at being bothered seemed to slip through. She stops abruptly in front of me with a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"What? Oh, no. It's not that . . . it's . . . never mind. I'm sorry to bother you."

She quickly turns to go back to her house, and I huff a four letter word under my breath before calling after her.

"No, wait. What is it that you need?"

She stops and looks back at me hesitantly.

"Are you sure? I can just call a handyman tomorrow or something."

A part of me really wants to tell her to do just that, but my mother's upbringing tells me differently.

"No, it's fine. I want to help," I lie.

She takes a deep breath and then word vomits about how she has no hot water. My version is way shorter than her actual explanation. I literally now know every step she took until this very moment.

"Did you check the pilot on the hot water heater?" I ask.

"What pilot?" She scrunches up her nose in confusion.

"Well, if your house is similar to mine, the water heater will be by your washer and dryer." I start to walk in the direction of her house.

"Yeah, it is," she confirms, walking in step beside me.

We enter the laundry room, and I ask if she has a flashlight. She nods and runs out of the room, returning a second later with the requested item. I get down on the floor and shine the light looking to see if a blue flame is burning under the tank as it should be, but just as I had figured, there wasn't one.

"You don't happen to have a lighter, do you?"

"Um, I have some matches. Would that work?"

"I'll go get my grill lighter. It will reach better."

I hop up and jog back to my place. Bull whines in his cage, begging to be let out.

"Sorry, buddy. Here, I'll let you outside to piss."

I open the kennel, and he darts towards the back door. I let him out, grab the lighter, and return back to help . . . Megan? I think. Hell if I know. She's still standing where I left her chewing on a fingernail. I get back on the floor and follow the steps listed to relight the pilot. After a moment, the little blue flame is up and going.

"There. That should fix it, but it'll probably take thirty minutes or more to get hot water."

She looks bummed but quickly replaces the frown with a smile.

"Thanks so much. Again. I promise to try not to bother you anymore."

I feel bad for my earlier attitude, and for whatever the reason, I feel like I should apologize.

"Really, it's fine. Like I said before, if you need anything, just let me know. I was just in a bad mood from work, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"I'm sorry you had a bad day. Do you want to talk about it?" She offers with a shy smile.

"With you?" I scoff. "No, thanks."

Her crest-fallen face has me pinching the bridge of my nose and rephrasing.

"I mean, no, thank you. It's nothing that a cold beer and TV can't fix." I give her an apologetic smile.

"Oh, well, that's good, I guess," she states softly.

"Alright, I'm going to head out then." I hand her the flashlight back and move towards the door.

"Goodnight," she calls after me.

I look back at her, and she appears so vulnerable standing there.

"Be sure to lock up behind me, okay?" I instruct suddenly concerned for her safety.

She nods and smiles once again. I walk back towards my house only after I hear the click of her deadbolt lock sliding into place.