Page 23 of Dreams and Reptiles

I needed help, and for better or worse, I knew my neighbor would likely have what I needed.

Saucy Neighbor: I know neighbors are supposed to borrow sugar or flour, but are you stocked on plungers?

Reptile Wrangler: Be right over.

CHAPTER

SIX

Kendall

I’d just hopped out of the shower when my phone buzzed with Francis’s ask for assistance, so I threw on sweatpants and a t-shirt, shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers, grabbed my plunger, and trotted out the back door.

Roger and I had finished building the mother of sturdy barriers for the giant tortoises, and I already had a plan to make them more aesthetically pleasing. We’d interspersed glass blocks between the cinder blocks to allow more light into the area for the tortoises. Rog and I had also run back to Miller’s Point and picked up some raised planter beds. We placed the planters behind the cinder blocks, and I bought seeds for different types of lettuce and vegetables. Food and camouflage for the win. I’d already planned to create some spaces to grow food for them, so this just sped up the timeline on that project.

The Aldabra and Galapagos tortoises were in the space closest to the back of the house. They had about a quarter of an acre to move around in with a water hole lined with concrete I’d built in the middle. Their enclosure ran all the way to the barn, where there was an entrance for them to get inside with heaters for the nights it got cold, and I knew there would be plenty of those. On the side closest to the barn was another smaller habitat for my radiated tortoises, with a similar entrance for them to get inside when it was cold.

On the opposite side of the barn was the indoor/outdoor enclosure for my pair of rhino iguanas, Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, with another opening cut into the barn for them to get inside, and a second indoor/outdoor enclosure was ready for whoever my next guest would be. Maybe for the tegu I’d been called about.

There was a smaller indoor space in the barn for my chameleons, Debbie Reynolds and Tony Curtis. Even though some of the creatures were younger, I liked the naming convention I had going. I had plans to add at least two more habitats over the next year, but with the giants escaping every time I turned around, I decided it was more important to perfect the ones I already had before I brought more creatures home.

I trotted up the path to Francis’s back slider and rapped on the glass. I gazed up at the sheer size of the house, which had originally been used as the business office and tasting room for the winery, according to my grandmother. Grandma said the winery hadn’t done very well. The next owners wanted to have a bed and breakfast, but then they’d gone belly up as well. Subsequent owners rarely used the guest wing or the pool. There was also the stone cottage by the road that I knew belonged to Francis now, and I wondered what he was going to do with it all. He was one guy. I knew he wanted to host retreats, but would that be enough to stay afloat?

I exhaled and tried to loosen my shoulders. I needed to quit wondering about Francis in terms of his wealth. I wanted to know the guy with the saucy comebacks, the flirty banter, and the soft smile that let me know there were a lot more layers to him. I owed it to him to keep my reverse snobbery under wraps until he proved me wrong.

I waited a few minutes and then tapped again, thinking he might not be able to hear me. Music was playing inside, and it must have been loud, as I could hear it outside. Some sort of R&B music I didn’t recognize, but it had a great beat. I walked around the corner of the building, where there was another wall of windows, and I caught sight of Francis carrying a load of wet towels in his arms. He seemed to be talking to himself. He disappeared down a hall behind the kitchen, and when he reappeared, he looked into a doorway and roared. He balled his hands into fists and stomped his feet.

I hated to interrupt his temper tantrum, but I tapped, thinking he’d probably hate any more of this moment being witnessed.

He turned sharply at the sound and put a hand to his chest, as if I’d scared him for real. I waved the plunger, and he took a second to breathe before he jogged over to the slider.

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?”

My saucy neighbor’s eyes had dark circles under them, and his brow was furrowed. He wore a cropped white t-shirt with paint splatters and low-rise lounge pants that also had a bit of paint. There was paint in his hair, which was not in its usual neat style, and his shoulders slouched. His feet were bare… and wet.

“Not long, no. Everything okay?”

He blew out a breath and planted his hands on his hips. “I got on YouTube and tried to figure out how to turn off the water, but it just keeps flowing, and I don’t have a wrench. I’m realizing that I am woefully unprepared to be a homeowner.”

“Would you like me to take a look?” I had a feeling that swooping in and rescuing him was not the way to his heart. I’d fixed many a problematic toilet in my past, but I let him take the lead. Consent was important in all aspects of a blooming relationship. Courtship. Whatever we were calling this.

He opened the door and stepped back, gesturing with his hand. “Welcome to Maison de Reve. The Dream House. Today, the role of the house is played by the devil.”

I chuckled, but I understood.

“My first house had horrific plumbing issues. I spent a year trying to fix leaks, backed up toilets and showers, before I finally called in the professionals. Plumbing and electrical are areas where it’s good to know your limits.”

“Point taken,” he grumbled. “Nothing untoward showed up in the inspections, so I wasn’t too worried, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a few bugs that need to get worked out. Speaking of bugs, I’ve also got some sort of infestation in the upstairs guest room.”

“Ah. Water first, bugs second. Not a problem.”

Francis led me over to the bathroom, and I could hear the roar of a flusher out of control before we even got close.

“So it’s a public toilet kind of situation? The kind that flushes so hard you think it’s going to suck you down?”

“Precisely,” Francis said. He stopped in the doorway and pointed at the offending fixture. “I thought maybe it backed up, but I don’t know.”

I let out a low whistle and then looked at my choice of shoes. There were about two inches of water standing on the floor, the drain unable to handle it all.