Christina didn’t have the breath to answer. She was struggling to sit up, or to roll over and stand, but the strength of the geyser forced her down. Her body was shivering with cold, and her mind was overwhelmed, trying to understand what had just happened, and what she could do. She felt like an overturned beetle caught in a storm. She knew she looked like that, too, as she waved her arms and legs.

“Call the fire department,” a woman said.

“Call 911,” a man repeated.

“Christina!” Andy yelled as he raced down the wharf toward her, rushed into the rocketing torrent, gripped Christina under her arms, and hoisted her out and away from the streaming broken bricks.

By now a crowd had gathered. A siren sounded, coming closer. People stared, and some cheered when Andy pulled Christina away into the cold dry air, but it was all surreal to Christina. She shook so hard her teeth rattled.

Mimi rushed out of her shop. “Dear Lord, Christina, are you okay? Andy, bring her inside, we can warm her up until an ambulance gets here.”

As if she weighed less than a butterfly, Andy scooped Christina up in a bridal carry, as if they had just been married, and carefully made his way over the stones, which were now covered with ice, to Mimi’s.

Just as they reached Mimi’s door, a husky, exotic voice said, “She has no hat. She needs a hat to keep her head warm. Most important.”

And just like that, Anastasiya Belousova plucked her huge silk-lined fur Cossack hat off her head and settled it onto Christina’s.

“Thank you,” Christina said through her chattering teeth. The warmth of the hat was miraculous. “I’m fine, Andy, put me down,” she said, struggling to escape his arms.

He didn’t let her go until Mimi pointed out a certain chair. He carefully deposited Christina on the chair, and Mimi bustled around moving all the space heaters close to Christina.

Christina was crying. She didn’t know when she’d started crying, but she was aware that she wasn’t crying in a particularly dignified or attractive way. She covered her face with her hands and her sobs came out like honks. Her mascara was running down her face, she could feel it, or maybe it was just leftover water. She didn’t want Andy and his model girlfriend seeing her like this, although she knew they’d seen her humiliating pratfall, and her face must have been clown-like at the surprise of the sturdy, reliable floor of her world shattering beneath her.

Harriet came into Christina’s range of vision. Taking Christina’s hands, she tugged off Christina’s gloves and, with difficulty, pulled her own dry gloves onto Christina’s hands.

“Th-th-thank you,” Christina stammered.

“Broken water pipe,” Harriet said. “You should sue the town. You could get thousands.”

“Darling, you are wet, also,” said a deep, husky voice.