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Dimitri had owned his new house for exactly one week before something broke. One Saturday afternoon, he opened the dishwasher to find that it had not filled with water when he ran it. This meant that the dishes did not get clean, and the heat-dry cycle had baked the lingering bits of food onto every dish he owned. As he scrubbed the dishes in the sink, he watched a pair of YouTube videos on how to fix this sort of problem. He quickly concluded that he would probably just make things even worse if he tried. Fine motor skills had never been his strong point, as illustrated by the fact that he broke two bowls while hand-washing them.
So he called Felix.
“You already wrecked something?” his best friend said scathingly on the other end of the line.
“I didn’t!” Dimitri protested. “... I think I didn’t, anyway.”
Felix’s answering sigh registered a world of skepticism, but he didn’t voice it, which by Felix’s standards was pretty tactful. “All right. I’m texting you the information for the guy who fixed our heat when it broke. He’s not exactly cheap, but he does the job right and won’t gouge you. Give him a call.”
The phone buzzed in Dimitri’s hand, and a contact card popped up onto the screen.
Jeralt Eisner
Eisner Appliance Repair
“Thanks, Felix,” Dimitri said sincerely.
“Welcome to the world of home ownership,” Felix replied before hanging up.
Dimitri chuckled lightly before clicking the phone number on the contact card. The phone rang a full six times, and Dimitri was preparing himself to leave a voicemail when the ringing cut off abruptly.
“Yeah, this is Jeralt.”
“Ah! Um. Hello, Mr. Eisner.” Dimitri winced inwardly; he never had been good at talking to strangers, even in what should have been a low-stakes situation. “My friend Felix Fraldarius recommended you. I seem to be having a problem with my dishwasher?”
“Fraldarius, huh?” the weathered voice on the other end said. “Liked him. He didn’t make small talk. What’s wrong with the dishwasher?”
“It doesn’t seem to be using any water,” Dimitri admitted, staring balefully down at the pile of dishes currently drying on his countertop. “At least, I think that’s the problem. It’s my first house. That I’ve owned, I mean. Not that I’ve lived in. And so I don’t know much about appliances. Maybe I should have learned…” He trailed off, wincing, sure that he sounded like a complete idiot.
On the other end of the line, Dimitri could hear a pen scribbling down a few details. “Address?”
“947 Seiros Way.”
“Huh,” Jeralt replied.
Dimitri’s heart dropped into his stomach as he wondered what that “huh” meant. Was he in a neighborhood known for plumbing problems? Was his house infamous for appliance disasters? Had he just spent his entire savings on a home that was going to constantly have…
Then Jeralt’s voice interrupted his spiral. “Sorry, had to map your address. Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ve got someone finishing a job around the corner from you. Are you headed out, or can I send them over? It will be about 30 minutes, give or take.”
Relief coursed through Dimitri. “Yes, I’ll be here. And thank you.”
Every week, Byleth and her dad liked to have a little competition. They called it the “Client from Hell Award,” and the winner got to keep a wrench-shaped trophy for a week. As Byleth loaded her tools back into her car, her head pounding with irritation, she consoled herself with the knowledge that she was definitely going to win the trophy this week. Her client had spent the entire visit hovering over her shoulder, demanding to know if she really knew what she was doing and asking questions about every object she took out of her bag, including the screwdriver. A straightforward thermostat replacement had taken twice as long as it should have.
And then, of course, the client claimed he’d lost his checkbook. He’d turned almost purple when Byleth cheerfully told him that Eisner Appliance Repair took credit cards and electronic payments. But at least the asshole had paid in the end.
Maybe I’ll stop by that burrito place on my way home, Byleth thought to herself, her stomach rumbling in anticipation. It was a bit early for dinner, but there weren’t any jobs left on the…
In her pocket, her cell phone pinged.
Byleth felt her shoulders slump instinctively. Maybe it’s just a spam text, she thought, pulling it out. But no, somehow she’d known.
JE: Hey kid. Got another job for you, half mile drive tops
JE: 947 Seiros Way. Busted dishwasher, no water.
Byleth let out a sigh.
BE: Can it wait for tomorrow? I’m definitely winning the Client from Hell award this week, that last job was a nightmare.
JE: Sorry, kid. I already told him I was sending someone over
JE: New homeowner, seems a little freaked out. Friend of a current client
Byleth let out another, longer sigh. Great. A neurotic last-minute job. But she and Jeralt took referrals seriously; it seemed like there was no getting out of this one. At least it wasn’t going to be a long drive.
BE: OK, I’m on it.
JE: Thanks kid
BE: Make it up to me by ordering too much food for dinner ok?
JE: Deal
So, with a wistful silent farewell to her planned burrito, Byleth climbed into the cab of her truck and made the short trip to 947 Seiros Way.
The white frame of the “for sale” sign was still outside the little one-story house when Byleth pulled up to it; a pile of broken-down moving boxes sat next to the garbage cans in the driveway. Byleth rang the bell and quietly steadied herself to deal with an anxious new homeowner. Maybe she could come up with something professional and reassuring to say when…
The door swung open, and all of Byleth’s reassuring phrases flew right out of her head.
The man who opened the door was about Byleth’s age, and dressed for a day at home in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt from Garreg Mach University. He was also gorgeous. His blue eyes were bright, his blonde hair appealingly tousled, and the t-shirt was just a bit too small for his broad shoulders. He seemed as startled to see her as she was to see him; for a moment they just stared at each other through the screen door.
After an awkward pause, the man smiled at her. It was a nice smile, friendly but a bit shy, and Byleth found herself instinctively smiling back. “Hi,” he said. “Are you… I mean, you must be. It says so on your bag. ‘Eisner Appliance Repair.’” He chuckled. “The acronym spells EAR. I didn’t realize that until just now.”
Byleth had heard that joke approximately a thousand times. She usually managed a polite “ha,” or a crack about how her dad had picked the name. This time, to her complete mortification, she giggled.
“Um. Yeah. That’s me. Byleth Eisner, the younger E in EAR,” she said.
“Dimitri Blaiddyd,” he replied, with a vague gesture at himself.
Somewhat belatedly, Byleth remembered why she was there. “My dad said you had a problem with the dishwasher?”
“Yes! Yes, come in, please.” The man unlocked the door and pulled it open to admit her. “It was working when I bought the house, but today it just… didn’t. I don’t think any water went into it.” There was an anxious line between his brows as he said that, as if he half expected Byleth to tell him it was his fault and-or that it couldn’t possibly be fixed.
“Yep, seen that before,” she said cheerfully, hoping that would be reassuring. “It’s usually an easy fix, although sometimes we’ll have to order a part. That can take a few days, just to warn you.”
He nodded, and the line between his eyebrows seemed to relax ever so slightly.
Dimitri led her into a small but sunny kitchen. The dishwasher was already open, and Byleth could see countertops piled high with drying dishes and bits of food crusted onto the door from the failed wash; she winced sympathetically. She wondered if Dimitri would insist on watching her work, or if he would want her to talk him through what she was doing.
But to her surprise, as she set down her tools, he cleared his throat and took a step back. “I don’t want to crowd you. I’m going to go finish unpacking a box, then I’ll… probably go for a run, if that’s all right? I’ll bring my phone in case you need anything.”
“Sure, sounds good,” Byleth replied, fighting a faint feeling of disappointment. Not that she’d wanted him to hover over her shoulder, but… well, she was honest enough to admit that she’d hoped he might hang out in the dining room or something.
Five minutes later, Byleth knew exactly what had caused the problem—a clog in the drainage hose. Seven minutes after that, she’d fixed it. When she shut the door and pressed the “Start” button, she heard the reassuring whoosh of water rushing in to fill the dishwasher.
For a moment she entertained the vague, ridiculous notion of pretending the job was more involved, of trying to find a reason to talk with him again. No, she told herself sternly. Appliance Repair 101: Do not hit on your clients.
And so, with a wistful little sigh, she stood up to find Dimitri and tell him she was done.
Dimitri shut the door to his bedroom and sat down on the edge of his bed with a thump , feeling as if his legs might give out.
He shook his head wryly at himself as he began unpacking the last few stacks of books from the box at the edge of his bed. He was twenty-five, not fifteen; he shouldn’t be going all weak-kneed at the sight of a pretty girl. But there was something about Byleth Eisner that was just… mesmerizing.
All the more reason to get out of here before I embarrass myself.
Once the books were put away, Dimitri pulled his favorite running shoes out of his closet and began to change clothes. He tried to focus on his goal for today—a time, a distance, anything that might make his mind drift away from the vee on Byleth’s v-neck t-shirt. It didn’t work.
He was pulling his running shirt over his head when a shadow fell across the carpet of his bedroom—and he realized, very much too late, that he had not pushed his door all the way shut.
“Oh! Sorry!” Byleth Eisner gasped, leaping away from the doorframe, a clipboard clutched to her chest.
“I’m sorry!” Dimitri yanked his t-shirt down over his stomach as a red blush flared in his cheeks. “I mean, it’s entirely my fault—I should have…”
“No, it’s me, I shouldn’t have gone looking for you, I…” Byleth drew a breath. “Um. What was I going to say? Oh. Right. It’s fixed. Clogged drain line. A bit gross but nothing to worry about. I’m running the empty dishwasher now to make sure, but it seems to be fine.”
“Oh!” Dimitri felt a warm rush of relief at the knowledge that it had been an easy fix—followed by a sharper stab of disappointment that Byleth Eisner was on her way out of his life barely a quarter hour after entering it. “Thank you. I—that was extremely efficient. What do I owe you?”
Byleth handed him a clipboard. “Here.”
As Felix had warned him, Eisner Appliance Repair was not cheap. But Byleth had cut the travel fee—she’d scribbled “already in neighborhood” in the margin—and Dimitri pulled out his phone and punched in the electronic payment information without complaint. Byleth pulled off the carbon copy and handed it to him.
“Thanks again,” Dimitri said—a bit awkwardly, since he was still not quite sure how to process the fact that she’d come within a minute of seeing him in nothing but his underwear. “I’ll certainly call you again if I have any other issues.”
For a moment, Byleth seemed to be wrestling with a decision, but after a moment, she blushed a faint pink and cleared her throat. “Um. That’s my cell, third number at the top right of the form. Give me a call. You know, if it turns out I didn’t fix the problem and you need me to come back.”
“... I appreciate that,” Dimitri said, in a slightly strangled voice. “I. Um. I will. Although I’m certain you did a great job.”
Byleth flashed him a small, enigmatic smile, and then the next thing Dimitri knew, she was walking away down the hall. He was left alone in his doorway, holding the pink piece of paper in his hand.
She was just being nice, he told himself as he looked it over. She didn’t mean “call me” like that.
And yet, he found his eyes drawn to the third number at the top right of the paper. Found himself hoping he’d have a reason to call it, and already worried he’d lose it.
Well. He was a homeowner now. It couldn’t hurt to have a good appliance repair person in his contacts.