car slipping a gear. A moment later, a wisp of smoke emerged from the midst of the rubber covering over the in-sink eradicator.
He shut off the disposal quickly. Squatting, Dennis opened the cabinet doors beneath the sink and looked in. He began moving aside an army of cleansers as he worked his way to the wall.
Nicole tried to bend down and peer over his shoulder. The ache in her back curtailed the effort. “What are you doing?”
He found the cord and followed it to the plug. He worked it free from the wall. “Unplugging your disposal before you have a fire.”
She looked down at the floor. It wasn’t exactly a lily pond, but there was enough water to remove the wax shine. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed.
“The water would put it out,” she said wearily.
Dennis rose, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Got a mop?”
“Of course I’ve got a mop,” she said defensively. Just because she wasn’t a neat freak like Marlene didn’t mean she was an utter slob. “Why?”
Justifying everything to her was getting a little old. “I want to dry the floor before one of us lands on our butts.”
He said “us” but he meant her. She could tell by the way he looked at her. She didn’t need someone inferring that she was a klutz. “Well, leave and then you won’t be in danger.”
He only laughed and shook his head. “Nicole, you are definitely a challenge to be neighborly to.”
All right, so she was being grumpy, but she couldn’t help it. She was always grumpy when she was tired. Stubborn about maintaining her independence, she’d remained up most of the night, listening to every noise that didn’t sound as if it belonged. In a garden complex of 203 apartments there were a lot of noises that sounded as if they didn’t belong.
She gestured toward his apartment. “It’s Saturday. Why aren’t you watching your new TV?”
He had a simple enough answer for that. “I don’t watch cartoons.”
“You don’t have a VCR?”
He thought of all the electronic equipment in his apartment. Equipment trained to document her life. For the first time, he wondered what she would have said if she knew.
“I haven’t hooked it up yet,” he said evasively.
“Well maybe you should do just that.” Her tone was dismissive. Nicole picked up the telephone receiver. “And I’ll call maintenance about this.”
Confident that she was sending him on his way, she tapped out the numbers to the rental office.
Amused, Dennis crossed his arms before his chest and leaned a shoulder against the wall. He knew it wouldn’t be long. Briefed on everything surrounding her complex, he knew that maintenance had a reputation of always being somewhere else when they were needed.
Three minutes later, Nicole sighed and hung up the phone.
“Nobody there?” he asked innocently.
She slanted an annoyed look at him. “Just the machine.” But she had a feeling that Dennis already knew that.
Dennis hooked his thumbs on the loops of his jeans. “I don’t think it’s been programmed to fix disposals.” This couldn’t have worked out better if he had planned it. “So, do you want my help?”
She hated asking, but it was either that, or start washing dishes in the bathtub. “Yes.”
With a satisfied nod, Dennis turned toward the door. “Okay, just let me get my tools.”
She picked her way carefully to the broom closet for the mop. “And get a shirt while you’re at it.”
He turned in the doorway, surprised by the request. “Why?”
“Because you’re too distracting running around without one.” She saw him raise an amused brow. “I might be pregnant, but I’m not dead.”
“Nice to know.” He disappeared inside his apartment.
Muttering under her breath, Nicole grabbed the mop and began drying her floor.
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