44 Charles Street

Francesca thought about it on the drive home, and once again Avery had given her perspective. She thought about what she’d said about dating, and finding the right lid. In her case she wasn’t even sure of the size and shape of her pot, let alone what lid would fit on it. She felt as though she had changed a lot in the last year without Todd. She felt more confident and sure of herself. She had come into her own without him, more than she had with him, which told her a lot about the relationship and herself. She wasn’t a half of anything now, she was a whole person. It had also done her good to have roommates and have to adjust to other people. As an only child, she’d never had to do that when she was young. She respected Marya and Chris, and they were all very different. And it was fun having Ian in her life. She’d never been that close to a child before. He was kind of a good introduction to it. Having kids didn’t seem as daunting now as it had before, as long as they were as cute as Ian, although there was no guarantee of that. He was about as cute as it got.

When she got home, she could hear noise in the kitchen, and went downstairs to see what it was. It was late for dinner, and they didn’t seem like happy sounds. She could hear loud noises and the clanking of pots. When she walked down the stairs, she saw her kitchen under six inches of water. Charles-Edouard was wearing a Panama hat and shorts, barefoot in the water, waving a cigar as he gave directions and asked questions. Marya was wearing Wellington boots and trying to help with a distressed expression. The kitchen table and chairs were in the garden with things stacked on them. And Chris was soaking wet in a bathing suit and sweatshirt, wading through the water and crawling under the sink, trying to locate the pipe that had exploded and flooded the kitchen.

“Oh shit,” she said, rolling up her jeans and taking off her own shoes as she waded in next to Chris. “What can I do to help? I’m sorry you got stuck with this.” He looked over his shoulder at her with a grin, and she felt guilty for not being there when it happened, and for all he was doing. This was exactly what Todd had hated about the house and why he wanted to sell it the year before. It was a very old house and things happened. Charles-Edouard poured her a glass of wine and handed it to her. It looked like a party in the midst of a flood. Charles-Edouard and Ian were having fun. The others weren’t.

“I got the water turned off,” Chris explained. “It happened while we were all out. It’s probably been running all day. We’ll have to find someone to get the water out of here tomorrow, and you need a plumber. I think this one is over my head.” As he said it, Ian took a leap off the stairs and landed in the large pool of water with a delighted splash.

“This is cool!” he squealed, and Chris told him to stop it or go back upstairs. Ian made a face and waded toward Charles-Edouard. There wasn’t much they could do about it that night, although Chris made a few more passes at trying to locate the leak and finally gave up. Francesca had been holding the flashlight for him under the sink, and she was soaked now too. Her jeans were wet to the waist.

“Have you all eaten dinner?” Francesca asked apologetically, and Charles-Edouard said they hadn’t. She suggested they all go to the nearest pizza parlor, or order Chinese takeout and eat it in her living room. And then she realized that Charles-Edouard and Marya couldn’t sleep in their own room that night. Their carpet was soaked through. She suggested they take her room, and she could sleep on her new living room couch. Marya resisted at first, but they had no other choice. And Francesca insisted she didn’t mind sleeping on the couch.

They opted for pizza and went out to dinner. They were chattering loudly, and all of them looked a mess. Charles-Edouard was still wearing shorts, Marya had left her boots on, and Chris and Francesca had put on dry jeans. Ian said he wanted to go back and splash in the pool in the kitchen and Chris said he couldn’t. They all had a good time, and went back to the house after dinner, in better spirits, although the kitchen was still a disaster. The water was slowly draining into the garden through the doors they’d left open, but there were still several inches of water covering the floor, and it had spilled into Marya’s room. At times like this Francesca wondered if she should sell the house. If Chris hadn’t been there to turn it off, the water would still be pouring out of the wall. She had said as much to him on the way back.

“You can always find a plumber, Francesca. It’s a beautiful old house. That’s not enough reason to give it up.”