Love Me Forever

“Not gone from town. Gone from my life.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t give up. We all know she has strong opinions on everything.” Nate’s expression was vaguely superior, Hunter thought, now that Nate had his love life in order. Then Nate’s voice became vague as he refocused on the computer. “You’ll fix it. She’d do anything for anybody, and you, particularly.”

Hunter stood to leave and sketched a wave in Nate’s direction. Though Hunter had done his best to discourage Sandy’s feelings, he knew Nate’s assessment was probably still true. Sandy took care of everyone.

She just had to understand that Hunter Bristol took care of himself.

CHAPTER TWO

DISAPPOINTMENT LODGED like an anvil in her chest, Sandy did what she’d always done in such situations—she got on with her life. She drove to the Maritime Museum, parked her car and walked to the railing to look out on the river. The day was chilly and gray, but she loved it when the weather was like that. Moody and intimate, the air smelling the way she imagined heaven would.

She fought to think positively about other things. She had the rest of the day off and the girls were at daycare. She could finish painting the back porch. She could make goodie bags for Addie’s fourth birthday party on Saturday; she could buy gift wrap and treat herself to lunch while she was at it.

She sighed and a strangled little sound came out with the whoosh of air. She put a hand to her chest and breathed in, letting that wood-and-river fragrance fill her up. So she couldn’t have the man she wanted. She would survive.

Her father had left without any explanation when she was fourteen, and she’d survived. Her mother had gone into a decline for a few months, and Sandy had kept them going and they had both survived. Her husband had left two months after Addie was born, unable to deal with the tyrannies of parenthood, and she’d come through again. But, every time she’d had to pull it together, she’d felt a little of her soft side erode. She’d wondered what it would be like to have a man in her life who would be there when she turned to him, who would love her forever.

Well, she thought bracingly, that wasn’t going to happen today. She inhaled another gulp of Columbia River air and wandered back to her car, considering the virtues of painting her porch against shopping and lunch out, when her cell phone rang. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, but it could be the daycare calling about the girls.

The caller ID read A. Moreno. Armando and Celia Moreno and their two little girls were her tenants, living next door to Nate and Bobbie in a little cottage Sandy had inherited from her aunt. Bobbie had rented it before she met and married Nate and moved in with him and his nephews. Because the Morenos had come upon hard times, Sandy charged them just enough rent to cover property taxes and homeowner’s insurance. They were embarrassingly grateful.

She answered the phone.

“Sandee!” Celia was breathless. “I took the leaky faucet off the top of the...the sink in the kitchen to try to...to fix it myself and water is like a fountain! I called Mando, but he doesn’t answer. They are painting the apartment house by the bridge today.” Hunter had gotten Mando a job with Affordable Painting, one of his clients.

Must be one of those days, Sandy thought. “There’s a knob under the sink, Celia,” she said. “Turn off the one under the cold water. I’ll hold on while you do that.”

Sandy heard scurrying, mutterings in Spanish, then, “I did, but it doesn’t stop!”

“It’ll take a second.”

“Oh.” She heard Celia’s sigh of relief. “Just a little fountain. It is stopped.”

“Okay. I’ll be right there with a new faucet. That one was ready to be replaced anyway.”

Celia made a commiserating sound. “I’m sorry. Bobbie says you are having a Sandy day.”

She was surprised to feel herself smile. “I am.” A pileup of disasters was a Sandy day.

After a quick trip to City Lumber, Sandy arrived at her rental house with her tool box to find pandemonium that had nothing to do with plumbing. Celia babysat for friends who couldn’t afford formal daycare, did housekeeping and baked goodies for a Mexican bodega on Marine Drive. There were three children under two in a playpen in the middle of the kitchen. They babbled along with a children’s show on television, squealing their delight at the antics of a furry puppet. Fortunately Celia’s children weren’t home yet to contribute to the melee. Her oldest daughter, Crystal, was in the second grade, and Elena, her youngest, in kindergarten.

A loud whirring sound competed with the television as Bobbie sucked up water with a Shop-vac. She waved at Sandy then turned off the machine as two women Sandy recognized as friends of Celia’s went through a cardboard box and a large leaf bag on the table. Sandy knew they didn’t speak English and simply smiled and offered a friendly greeting.

“They have brought coats from our friends,” Celia explained. “In the box, they are good. In the bag, they need sewing. For el Armario.” The three women smiled broadly at Sandy. “The Clothes Closet,” Celia translated.

“Thank you!” Sandy was thrilled. Except for a few things of her own and her girls’ that she’d put aside in a corner of her bedroom, this was the first contribution to the Clothes Closet since the idea was conceived at a Food Bank meeting a month ago. “¡Gracias!”

The women nodded and responded in Spanish.

“They are happy to help,” Celia said, “because you have helped me.”

The women left in a flurry of waves and Spanish exclamations.

“Hi.” Bobbie hauled the large drum and hoses away from the sink so that Sandy had room to work. She looked into her friend’s face, her sympathetic expression explaining that she’d read Sandy’s morning accurately.

Sandy fought with the packaging, finally won and put the new faucet aside. “I am so sorry,” Celia said, hanging over her as she cleaned the sink around the mounting.

“It’s all right, Celia. No harm done.” After putting the faucet assembly in the holes, Sandy crawled under the sink to place washers and nuts on the mounting studs and hand tightened them, then finished the job with the wrench.

“It always surprises me that you’re so strong.” Bobbie had crouched beside Celia and was watching also. “I can never make a wrench work that well.”

“There’s a hardware store in my checkered past, remember. I clerked when I was in high school.” Sandy pointed to her tool box on the floor in front of the refrigerator. “There’s another wrench on top. Would you get it for me, please?”

Bobbie retrieved the tool. “I forgot that. You fixed the john in our dorm room. But, now you’re just showing off. Two wrenches?”

Sandy took it from her. “One to hold the fitting and the other to turn the nut on the water supply line.” She did as she explained, then told Celia to turn on the cold water, then the hot.

Bobbie looked doubtful. “You want to get out from under there first?”

“No. It’ll hold.”

Celia did as Sandy asked. There were no leaks.

Sandy crawled out from under the sink and accepted Bobbie’s hand up.

Celia wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you, Sandee. You are the best landlady in the world!” She handed her a check. “Here is the rent. Mando says we must pay you more, but we have no—”

Sandy stopped her. “Celia, we agreed on the rent. It’s fine until Mando gets a promotion or you win the lottery or something.”

Celia’s eyes teared. “I will come and clean your house.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. When my mother babysits for me, she can’t sit still, so she does it. You and Mando are fine here, Celia. You can live here at this rent until the girls get hitched.”

Celia repeated her last word uncertainly. “Hitched?”

“Casado,” Bobbie provided. “Married.” When Sandy looked at her in surprise, she said, “Crystal taught me. Last art class we drew brides, princesses and warriors.”

Crystal, Celia’s seven-year-old, was in an art class Bobbie taught at Astor Elementary School. Bobbie had learned about the Morenos’ troubles through Crystal last Christmas and told Nate, who had called the legal office Sandy worked for to see if anything could be done. Since then, they’d all been allied to make life more livable for the family.

Celia understood her meaning and hugged her again, smiling. “Until the girls are casado, si. But Mando will not let them get casado until they are thirty. You will wait a long time for more rent.”

“It’s fine, Celia.” Sandy glanced at her watch. “I’ll take the box of clothes home with me, run a few errands and be back to make sure the faucet isn’t leaking.”

Celia nodded. “Then I will send you home with frijoles refritos and flan.”

Sandy would have told her she didn’t have to, but Celia’s flan was legendary. And she put chorizo and onion in her beans.

“That would be wonderful.” Sandy picked up the box and Bobbie came to open the door for her.