I retreated in haste, and by the time he returned to the living room, I’d completed the four giant steps to the kitchen. I picked up the damp towel and swiped at a plate, trying to decide what to make of it. Neither he nor Edna had ever actually said he was completely disabled, but that was the impression I’d been given. I’d assumed he wasn’t ambulatory, but this wasn’t the case. I tucked the information away, thinking it was good he wasn’t quite as helpless as I’d imagined. Also thinking I’d keep the discovery to myself.

There was a long pause. I allowed time for him to arrange himself in his wheelchair and replace the batteries in the remote. The volume diminished dramatically, and shortly afterward, he rolled into view.

I turned. “You found the batteries?”

“Drawer in the side table by the couch,” he said. “How’re you doing?”

“I could use a dry towel.”

“Basket in the pantry,” he said, waving in that direction.

I waited, expecting him to return to the living room, but he kept his attention fixed on me. This created an irresistible urge on my part to make nice.

I flicked a look at my watch. It was 8:03. “What time do you think she’ll be home?”

“Depends on how long she has to sit there.”

“I thought she had an appointment. Isn’t she having her teeth cleaned?” I asked, thinking what the hell else would you be doing in a dentist’s chair at 8:00 A.M.?

“Naw. This’s an emergency. She has to have a crown replaced. She said if she called first, the lady at the desk would make her wait two, three weeks. She goes in, they’ll make sure the dentist sees her right away so it won’t look bad to the other patients.”

“Doesn’t a crown take hours?”

“Oh, I imagine she’ll be back by noon,” he remarked. “If not, she said to ask if you’d fix me lunch.”

An involuntary sound escaped my lips.

He rolled himself away. “I better let you get back to work. I don’t want to slow you down.”

I finished the dishes, brooding darkly. I’d just wandered back into the living room when I caught a glimpse of the plumber’s truck pulling into Henry’s drive. “The plumber’s here and I have to run next door. Henry gave strict instructions to let him in the minute he arrived. Will you be all right? It shouldn’t take long.”

He waved me off. “I’m fine.”

I found Mr. McClaskey standing at my front door. He lifted the brown gimme cap as soon as I appeared. “Morning.”

“Hey, Mr. McClaskey. Henry’s off running an errand and I’m babysitting the guy next door, but both our doors are unlocked and you can let yourself in. You’re looking for leaks?”

“Yes, ma’am. Starting with the commodes. Mr. Pitts says he has no complaints, but it never hurts to check.”

“I have two toilets—one up and one down—and neither seems to be running.”