Angels Fall

thought I could pay you back a little by doing some of the housework. I like to cook for you. I like to cook period. That's all it was."
    "You said you loved me."
    "I did. I didn't ask you to love me back. I didn't write off for my subscription to  Brides  magazine. I never even asked you to clean out a drawer so I had somewhere to put my things. I never asked you for anything but companionship."
    It was hell being absolutely wrong. '"Okay, so I overreacted—"
    "So you said before. I'm tired, Brody. If you want to hash this through, it'll have to be some other time. I want to go to bed."
    "Wait. Damn it." He sat back, raking his fingers through his hair, his expression both pained and frustrated. "I was out of line this morning. I'm sorry."
    She said nothing for a moment. "Ow. I bet that hurt you as much as my face hurts me."
    "Maybe more. Don't make me repeat it."
    "Once does the job." She touched his arm, then reached for the door again.
    "Will you wait? Jesus. Listen."
    At the ensuing silence, she studied his face. "I'm listening."
    "Okay. Before you said you didn't want me to take care of you. That's fine. The thought of wanting to take care of you is scaring the hell out of me. But I want to be with you. There's no one else I want to be with. Can we get back to that?"
    She pushed open her door, then stopped. Looked at him. Life was so terrifyingly short. Who knew that better than she did? "That's all I was looking for. Do you want to come up?"
    "Yeah." He waited while she walked around the car, then held his hand out for hers. "Come here a minute." Leaning down, he brushed his lips gently over her bruised cheek. "Ouch."
    "You can say that again. You ought to know I'm not going to be very good company. All I want is a hot bath, a bottle of aspirin and a soft bed."
    "You don't have a soft bed."
    "I'll compensate." She unlocked the door. "I feel like I've been in a soccer match. As the ball." As she opened the door, he pulled her back, shifted his body in front of hers. 
    "What's that sound?" she demanded. "Do you hear? It sounds like water running."
    "Stay right here."
    Of course she couldn't, and eased in behind him when he stepped in. started across the room. "In the bathroom," she whispered. "The door's closed. I never close the door because I need to be able to see inside the room when I come in. There's water running. Oh God, it's flooded; it's coming under the door." He shoved the door open so more water sloshed out. Inside, the tub overflowed as the water running from the faucet poured into it. The few things she'd deemed usable after the incident in the laundry floated like flotsam.
    "I didn't leave it on. I didn't even turn it on. I just ran up here…" Saying nothing, he sloshed through the floor to wrench the faucet off. Shoving up a sleeve, Brody reached down and pulled the plug.
    "I hung those things over the shower rod before I went down to work. After work, I ran up here to change my shoes. That's all I did before I went out with Linda-gail."
    "I'm not saying different."
    "The floor's going to be ruined. I have to get something to… Oh God. Joanie's. Downstairs. It'll have leaked through the floor and down into the diner."
    "Go call her. Tell her she needs to come over here, bring the keys for the diner."

    SHE CAME WITH the keys, and a Shop-Vac. Her eyes grim, she pushed the vac at Reece. "Go up, suck up that water. When you're done, bring it down here."
    "Joanie. I'm so sorry—"
    "Just be quiet and do what I told you."
    Joanie unlocked the door, stepped in. flipped on the lights.
    Water dripped and streamed through the ceiling of the north corner. The dry wall had buckled under the weight and split like bad fruit. Below it two booths were soaked.
    "Son of a bitching bastard."
    "She's not responsible," Brody began, but Joanie only jabbed a finger toward him, her eyes on the damage.
    "I'm going to need some fans in here, dry things out. Some plastic to put up over that tucking hole in the fucking ceiling before the tucking health inspector shuts me down because of it. You want to be helpful, go back there and drag out that big standing fan I've got in the storeroom. Then you can go back to my place. I got a roll of plastic out in my shed. A staple gun."'

    Brody glanced at the ceiling. "Stepladder."
    "That, too. Son of a bitching bastard."

    REECE WEPT AS she worked. It wasn't only herself being hurt now, but the woman whose only crimes had been giving her a job. renting her an apartment,