Page 2 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Silver Fox

"Okay, but will you come?"

Another grunt, followed by some mumbling that I can't make out at the other end of the phone.

"What's your address?"

I give him my address, and a sense of relief passes through me.

"I'll be there in less than an hour."

The line goes out and I breathe deeply a couple more times. I've got help. I can get through this. I save the phone number I just dialed as 'Plumber' without knowing what the future will bring.

Chapter 2

Mitchell

I'm restless and can't keep my mind on my work. It doesn't help that there's not much to do since my daughter took over operations of the firm. Some of my peers say I should retire, but who retires at fifty? I still have a lot to look forward to.

The truth is, I'm bored with my life and need some adventure. I don't know how to go about it, though. Suddenly my phone rings and I pick up the unknown number.

It's a young woman from the sound of it, and she's practically hysterical. I try to calm her down, but I'm more of a growl until they calm down kind of guy. My own daughter says I've got at least five identifiable growls in my repertoire.

Finally, I manage to get the young woman's address and tell her to wait for me. She's lost the only heirloom she has from her last living relative. I realize I need to go home and change into something a handyman would wear, plus I need to get my tools.

I wonder what she looks like. She sounded really young. The area where she lives is a residential area here in the city, but the housing there is not modern. I get to my apartment and the doorman takes my car. I tell him I'm leaving soon so he doesn't park my vehicle.

I change from my many thousand dollar suit into jeans and a gray henley. I go to the kitchen and get my tools from under the sink. I haven't used these babies in a while. I'm actually eager to help the young woman. I don't even know her name.

My car is waiting for me at the front of the building and I input the address on the GPS. It's only about thirty minutes away and there shouldn't be any traffic at three in the afternoon. I make my way to her, wondering what to expect.

The house I find is completely run down, almost condemned, and I wonder how she can be living inside there. I park my car in the driveway behind an old Honda and brace myself for what's about to come. My curiosity is too big so before I ring the doorbell I take a peek at the sides and a bit of the back.

It looks like this place has run its course. If I were an investor I'd tell her to tear it down and build something new. But this is someone's home, and I can't be going around judging them or their property.

Finally, I go to the front door and try to ring the bell. Nothing happens. I press the button again. Silence. I guess it was too much to expect the doorbell to work. I lift my hand and knock on the door three times. When the door opens I'm frozen in place.

Chapter 3

Sarah

I'm sitting down at the kitchen table, biting my nails. I do that when I'm anxious, and I hate it because my fingers look awful when I do it. It's been forty minutes since the man said he would be here, and I can't keep myself still.

I hope he doesn't charge me an arm and a leg for doing this, but there's no other option. The ring itself is not too valuable, but it's the memories and what it represents that's of value. I used to admire that ring on my grandmother's finger and wish I would wear it one day when I got engaged.

To me it was the most beautiful thing in the world. My grandmother would only take it off when she was cooking, and sometimes would let me guard it while she baked. It's those memories that I hold dear now that she's gone. I can't believe that she's gone.

The ring though, it's proof of her existence and the love we had for one another. I'm deep in my thoughts when I hear something up front. Is that him? I hear three hard knocks on the front door and get up so fast I almost tumble the chair backwards.

I run to the door and open it, my breath held. And there he is. He's beautiful? Without knowing what I'm doing I jump on him and grab him close.

"Oh my God, you're here! You're finally here."

I hold him for longer than is proper. Is it proper to hug your plumber? I'm not sure, but what I do know is that I am eternally grateful for him being here at my home and carrying what I suppose are tools. Finally, I let go of him and step back, a big smile on my face.

"I'm sorry about that, I'm just so happy that you are here."

He grumbles something, but otherwise doesn't move. I open the door fully and wave him in.

"I've forgotten my manners. My name is Sarah."