Julian had expected to be met with some resistance at the request, at the very least he thought he’d be chastised for his mistake. There was a patient nature to Tyler Julian hadn’t been able to see through the layer of grime that coated him from the work day the last time they met. When he’d stood up for him at the bar Julian had just assumed he had zero tolerance for any sort of bullshit but his opinion was shifting on that matter. He was lobbing him a big ball of bullshit right now that Tyler had no problem handling with no fuss. Maybe Tyler liked him or maybe he just really liked his uncle. His money was on the latter.
“The Braves really won, huh?” Julian said a smile forming on his lips though he caught himself before his pearly whites could peek. There was a glimmer of something nestled in that flat delivery that hadn’t been lost on Julian. Was it flirtation? Julian wasn’t going to assume yet though he did note the smell of Tyler’s soap as he passed by him to grab his tools. The smell was rich and expensive, definitely not something he found in the toiletry section of the supermarket. The mix of cedar and musk cut with the freshness of citrus was without a doubt artisanal and smelt like something Julian might’ve sampled in a boutique or one of his friends medicine cabinets and that didn’t go unnoticed by Julian, neither had the cigarettes.
The bucket was found exactly where Tyler’d directed him and it was clear he was going to have to have Tyler linger around the property a little longer after he was done with the sink to give him a tour of the place. Outside of Tyler’s number on the fridge no one else was jumping out to make their connection to his late uncle known to Julian.
Julian opened the single paned window and turned on the fan in precaution before leaning against the opposite counter by the fridge to give Tyler space to work. “I don’t have any beer unfortunately but I’ve got Bulleit. Coke too,” he informed him as he watched him work. Julian wasn’t often a whiskey person but in the south it only seemed fitting.
Tyler set the heavy toolbox down with a thud on the hardwood floor and grabbed the white bucket, pushing it underneath the sink’s pipes. He grabbed a drain wrench, pliers, and a flat head screwdriver, crouching down in font of the sink. As the manual labor began, he listened to Julian speaking to him in the background, and he smirked to himself.
“Bulleit, hm? I ain’t take you for a whiskey man,” he said, though his words were a little scrunched with a grunt as he applied a little extra force to loosen up the trap on the bottom curve of the sink’s drainage. With a final twist, it finally came loose, and the gunky splatter of noodles, stagnant water, and whatever else Julian had pushed down into the sink came tumbling out like the a college student who’d drank a little too much. It wasn’t an exorbitant amount, but it had been enough to clog the pipes. He used the screwdriver to pull out more of the junk that remained on the pipes until he was satisfied that enough build up had been dislodged that the water would flow again.
It was strange being back in that house with its original owner long gone. Falk had been good to him, and had been one of the few people to understand Tyler and his rebelliousness growing up in a way his own family couldn’t. The man had felt like a sort of chosen family to him, and Tyler often wondered how it was that he lived so alone. But each person was an island, and he knew everyone had their own problems they never talked about.
“I’m sure they got fancy garbage disposals wherever you’re from, but ain’t none of those in this house. It’s old as dirt on a hill, so don’t shove anything where it ain’t supposed to go and you’ll be fine,” he said, scrunching his nose at the smell, which wasn’t nearly as bad as he was imagining it to have been. Tyler slipped the dirty screwdriver into the sink and began to seal up the pipes again, glad that it wasn’t quite as bad as he’d been imagining it. Hell, Julian could’ve easily done it himself, but if he was a betting man, he’d bet against the other knowing how to do it.
Once the quick repair had been made, he washed the screwdriver and cleaned the sink and the area under it, knowing exactly where to find the cleaning supplies.
“Your uncle was a good man,” he finally said, pulling the bucket out from under the sink and shutting the cabinet doors. He wanted to say more, but he didn’t know what the relationship was like between Julian and his uncle, and the last thing he wanted was to meddle where it wasn’t his business.
“Anyway, I’m gonna dump this on the compost out back. You turned it yet? Should be gettin’ turned every few days,” he mentioned, glancing at a to-do list on the refrigerator that looked like it hadn’t been moved an inch since he’d pinned it with a magnet.
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