The ultimate grand gesture, and they say romance is dead
My original plumber suggested I call Jeff when my water began backing into my tub whenever I used my washing machine. After multiple visits, he concluded I had a sag in my sewer line and needed to wait until spring to fix it since it was February with freezing ground temperatures.
He quoted me a price I knew was a fraction of what I would typically be charged, but I smiled as I nodded in agreement.
In the meantime, he put in a new toilet for me. He picked it up, installed it, and volunteered to dispose of my old one for no additional fee. Ironically, it happened to be on Valentine’s Day.
I asked him how he would stay in business if he didn’t charge his customers.
He smiled and said I was the only one he did that for.
A week passed, and I hoped he might call me to ask me out, but he didn’t. I figured I misread the situation and he was just being nice. We texted occasionally, but it never seemed to evolve past that point. Given that he worked for himself, I assumed his business took up most of his time, and he wasn’t looking for a serious relationship but liked to flirt.
Unfortunately, the pandemic delayed repairs until June, leading to a gas line mishap that nearly blew up my house.
Miss Dig came out a few days before the appointment to map out gas, water, and sewer lines. Finally, Wednesday arrived, and Jeff showed up with his stepdad and a young assistant, Sean, who had just started working for him that day.
I worked in my back office on the other side of the wall Jeff was digging behind with his small excavator. Shortly after they started, Sean stood at my office door in a panic with his clipboard. I calmly looked at him as he asked me my address while trying to catch his breath.
He gulped and told me Jeff accidentally cut my gas line, I needed to exit the house for safety reasons immediately, and 911 needed my address. Realizing the information was on his clipboard, he ran out before I could speak.
I walked over to my window and saw the flurry of activity right outside.
I thought: “Great, just great -does this guy know what he’s doing — what did I get myself into?”
I stepped onto my porch, motioned to Jeff, and laughed when I asked him, “What did you do?”
He explained they mismarked everything, and he cut right into my gas line. He said he clamped it off, but they had to wait for the fire trucks to get here to evaluate the situation, and then Consumers Energy would be contacted to repair it.
Within minutes, the gigantic red fire engine parked in front of my house with lights flashing and firefighters swarming my yard. As they conversed with Jeff, I noticed many of my neighbors coming out of their houses.
We were told to stay away from the area because anything that created a spark could lead to an explosion. Finally, Consumers arrived with another group of men gathering in my yard. Again, they talked with Jeff to get the details of the situation.
The neighbors slowly assembled, so I met with a few to explain. The process took about 30 minutes, but it felt like it went on for hours — so embarrassing to have the whole neighborhood lurking, pointing, and whispering.
Allowed to return to my house, I resumed working to the hum of a loud machine digging outside my window. When they found the problem, Jeff motioned for me to come outside through the window. He showed me where the pipes hadn’t been glued and came apart at the 90-degree angle, turning down the side of my house.
When they took a lunch break, I chatted with them all. I commented that he would have never severed my gas line if they had started at this end instead of the other one.
Sean suppressed a laugh and put his head down while Jeff slowly answered, “Yes, that’s true, but we aren’t going to talk about that.”
As they kept working, Jeff told me he was putting in a cleanout for me, and I gasped with excited approval. Sean asked why people were so happy to have those installed.
I looked at him and seriously explained, “Because my toilet has been violated enough!”
Everyone laughed, rolled their eyes, and shook their heads at me. They finished backfilling the dirt and I gave Jeff his payment. It was a fraction of what any other plumber would have charged for the same work. I asked if he was sure I didn’t owe more. He smiled and shook his head, indicating I didn’t.
He told me to let him know if I needed any help with consumers regarding the gas line. He assured me there shouldn’t be any issues because it was clearly mismarked. I thanked him as he hurriedly ran out the door for his next job across town.
Without warning, Miss Dig showed up to investigate a week after the repairs, and my yard looked like a mini crime scene with flags and pink chalk. I sent Jeff the pics and texted him what they did. He called me and told me not to worry -that he would pay any fines, but he was confident nothing would come of it.
He proceeded to ask if I would be interested in dinner. I explained I wasn’t comfortable eating out since we were still in the middle of COVID and the pandemic. However, I told him I would love to do something else.
Unfortunately, he misinterpreted that I wasn’t interested in going out to dinner as I wasn’t interested at all, which I didn’t know at the time. We continued to text here and there, but he never asked me out again despite me thinking I made it clear I wanted to get together.
Initially, I felt disappointed but eventually realized he didn’t owe me anything, and I would enjoy his generosity without any expectations. If I heard from him again, great, but if not, that was ok too. After a year, the universe intervened, putting Jeff in my path again.
Almost a year to the day after the repair of my sewer line, my bathroom sink started leaking. I hadn’t talked with Jeff for over a year, but I thought I would try calling him to see if he would fix it. He spoke to me like he didn’t know who I was when I called.
I figured he deleted my number from his phone and forgot all about me. I later found out he washed his phone shortly after he repaired my sewer line and lost all his contacts that he never backed up, including mine.
When he showed up, it was as if no time had passed, and we picked up flirting right where we had left off last summer. Before he left, he held my hand in both of his and told me it was good to see me. I nodded in agreement, and then he left for his next appointment.
I decided I wouldn’t put any expectations around whatever was budding between us and would reach out if I felt the urge to do so without worrying about whether I should or shouldn’t.
I began doing some repairs around my house. I painted my fence, tore down a wooden patio, and even mixed up some concrete to mend a few holes in my foundation. Since Jeff flipped houses, I would send him pics of my latest work. He’d give me advice or encouragement. This went on for several weeks, and he offered to help me reinforce my garage, which had a sagging roof. He set up a time to look at it and asked me out to dinner.
Jeff came over and looked at my roof before taking me to Applebees. We talked, laughed, and had fun. After four hours, he brought me home, walked me to my door, and asked if he could have a hug. He pulled me tightly into him in a long embrace. When I slowly stepped back, he quickly kissed me on the lips before leaving.
I felt like I had stepped back into being a teenager when I walked into my house. I smiled with my face flushed and my insides fluttering with all those feelings you experience when you realize the boy you like likes you back. It felt good to be emotionally awake again. It had been a while.
The next time I saw Jeff was when he came over to help me board up a window I had recently broken. We ended up sitting on the couch debating who kissed who first. I thought he was kidding initially, but he believed I initiated that first kiss a week ago. He almost convinced me of it until I told him mine would have been much slower.
I inquired why he didn’t ask me out a year ago. Surprised, he told me he had asked me to dinner, but I said no. I acknowledged that I said no to restaurants because we were in the middle of the COVID pandemic then. I further stated that I told him I would have been interested in doing something else.
He apologetically said all he heard was that I said no and felt rejected, so he didn’t ask again. To be clear and avoid any potential misunderstanding, I explained in no uncertain terms how I was attracted to him then and still was now.
A unique connection emerged during some flirty fun with my plumber during a sewer line repair. This led to comedic twists and turns involving a near-explosive mishap and temporary evacuation from my home.
The continuation of near misses unfolded like a plot in a cheesy romance movie and fizzled before it started.
A feeling that things were left unfinished between us lingered long after Jeff finished my sewer line and nearly blew up my house. A year later, An unexpected leaky faucet brought my plumber back into my life, intertwining our paths once again. We picked up right where we left off when we first met with the witty banter.
We continued talking and texting, sharing DIY projects, and finally, a dinner invitation that hinted at something deeper. A long overdue candid conversation clarified our mutual interest.
It took me a year to understand why the most unusual beginnings with confusing middles can lead to extraordinary endings -all thanks to the pivotal roles of patience, timing, and letting go of expectations.
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© 2023 Bette A. Ludwig: All rights reserved.
