Happily Ever Ninja(12)

“He was replacing the garbage disposal,” I supplied, irritated with Greg’s bad-mannered behavior. Furthermore, I was irritated that I was irritated, because my husband was home. He was home! He was here and I’d missed him and, instead of taking advantage of his presence, I was standing in my towel in the living room being irritated.

“My garbage disposal?” Greg’s frown was severe as his gaze moved to me, ripe with accusation. “You let him replace my garbage disposal?”

“Your garbage disposal? What are you talking about?”

“I just installed that disposal.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s been three years. And Grace ruined it in January.”

“How did she do that?”

“She put Jack’s rock collection in the sink and turned it on as revenge for him hiding her Barbie dolls.”

Greg blinked and he appeared to be digesting this information with some difficulty. At last he said, “Grace has Barbie dolls? When did she get Barbie dolls?”

Sigh . . .

I glanced at the ceiling and shook my head, then turned to poor Professor Matthew Simmons. “Thank you for your help, Matt. I really appreciate it.”

Matty’s eyes moved between us, then finally settled on me. “No problem. I’ll just get my tools and . . . other stuff.” He tossed his thumb over his shoulder, lingered awkwardly in the doorway for two seconds, then disappeared back into the kitchen.

I slid my eyes to Greg and found my husband still staring at the spot where Matty had been standing, an angry frown creasing his tired features.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked in a tight whisper, gripping the towel at my chest.

“What is wrong with me?”

“Yes. What was that?” I motioned to the kitchen, to Matt, keeping my voice low.

My husband’s eyes flashed and he spoke through gritted teeth, “A man, who happens to live next door to my family, takes off his clothes in my home while my beautiful wife is walking around in nothing but a towel . . .” Greg’s typically dry delivery was intoned with an extra helping of scathing sarcasm as he added, “Yeah. Seems legit.”

It took me a few seconds to recover from his insinuation, but when I did I forgot to lower my voice. “I used to babysit him, Greg! I changed his diapers.”

“Babysit him? What?” He looked truly perplexed, like I’d revealed Matt was responsible for all the Star Wars prequels, but then his eyes narrowed again as though he’d just realized something important. “Wait, so you’ve seen his penis?”

I gasped, then inadvertently laughed my frustration. “Really? That’s the take-home message? That I’ve seen his penis? If it makes you feel any better, it was about this long.” I held my thumb and forefinger apart to indicate an inch.

At the same moment Matt reappeared in the living room—shirt on—and unwisely said, “Hey! I was only two years old. It’s at least fifteen times larger now.”

“Fifteen times? Prone to exaggeration, aren’t you?” Greg drawled, giving Matt a look of plain disbelief.

“Not longer, larger.” Matt shrugged innocently, like he was clarifying the size of his sofa and not his man parts. “I was referring to volume, not necessarily length—though it is—”

“Oh good Lord.” I spoke over him, my fingers coming to my forehead. I rubbed the space between my eyebrows where a new headache flared, causing me to wince.

“Not helpful or pertinent information, Matt.” Greg’s eyes sliced to Matt, but then he did a double take. “Hey, wait a minute. Is that a cake? Who said you could have that cake?”

Matt looked from me to Greg, then took a step back and toward the front door, shifting the cake in his hands like he might make a run for it. “Fiona. She said I could have it. It’s my cake.”

Greg’s eyebrows jumped, his mouth fell open with livid shock, and he turned his glare back to me. “You made him the coconut cake?”

Pointedly not looking at my husband, I turned to Matt and said sincerely, “Please, take the cake. And thank you again for your help this morning. It made all the difference. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please stop by the basement and turn the water back on in the apartment?”

My neighbor gave me a quick smile, opened his mouth to respond, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he nodded solemnly and quickly made for the exit. The sound of our front door opening and closing was followed by a long silence, during which I took several deep breaths, attempting to calm and arrange my thoughts.

I decided I wouldn’t waste time being angry. I would ignore Greg’s boorish and slightly insulting behavior. Seeing him, having him here in person was a rare gift. I would determine how long he’d be in town and make the most of it.