Chapter15 Discovered stepmother Martha's scandal!
"Ah, Alex, there’s a flood coming! What do we do?"
"Billy, turn off the faucet!"
"Ah, I can't—it won’t turn off!"
The three little ones were shouting at the top of their lungs.
Aaron flicked his wheelchair's switch and rolled to the doorway, where he saw the garden hose spewing water everywhere.
Drenched from head to toe, the children stood there looking bewildered.
"What's going on?"
"Mr. Thomas, we can’t turn off the faucet."
Samantha hurried to Aaron’s side with her little steps, speaking urgently.
The faucet was stuck?
Aaron squinted slightly, "Must be broken."
"But what do we do? The water keeps flowing—it’ll waste money."
Billy followed up, his small forehead creased with concern.
"Where's the main shutoff?" Aaron asked.
Billy glanced at Alex, both boys looked at each other cluelessly.
Not waiting for an answer, Aaron began to search.
Quickly, he found the main valve in the kitchen’s corner.
"Billy, get in there and turn that lever down."
Aaron, hampered by his leg ailment, couldn't stoop down, leaving Billy to handle the task.
Billy nodded, crouched down, and reached out with his little plump hands to turn the valve.
"Mr. Thomas, do I turn it to the right?" he asked.
"Yes, that's right," Aaron praised him just in time.
Billy's dark eyes sparkled at the compliment.
"Alex, do we have any tools for fixing stuff?" Aaron inquired of Alex.
"Yep," Alex replied with a nod.
"Go grab them for me."
Wheelchair-bound, Aaron slowly made his way toward the entrance.
"Mr. Thomas, are you going to fix the faucet?" Billy asked, as Alex fetched the tools and pushed Aaron to the front yard.
"I'll give it a shot," Aaron stated.
Alex looked at him skeptically, " Mr. Thomas, if you're not sure how to fix it, there's no need to overdo it. We can get someone from the town to help."
Aaron just raised an eyebrow and remained silent, setting to work when Billy brought over the tools.
The three youngsters gathered around him, watching him disassemble the faucet with anticipation in their eyes.
"The faucet's busted; it needs to be replaced," Aaron announced after inspecting it.
"Call your mom and ask her to buy a new one," he instructed.
"I'll get the phone to call Mom," Samantha volunteered, scampering into the house.
Her voice soon echoed from inside.
"Mom, the faucet in the yard is broken, and Mr. Thomas says we need a new one... Huh? What kind do you want?"
Puzzled, Samantha ran back to the yard with the phone.
Aaron reached out to her, "Samantha, hand me the phone, I'll talk to your mom."
"Okay!" she chirped, passing the phone to Aaron.
"It's me, the faucet at home is shot. You need to pick up a F180."
Aaron's voice was both deep and charismatic.
On the other end, Nora was bidding goodbye to Madam Smith while listening to him.
"I got it. Anything else? If not, I'm going to hang up."
"Hold on."
There was a brief pause. "Did anyone give you a hard time?"
Nora arched an eyebrow, "I'm fine, and look at you playing the caring card."
"Of course, I'm counting on you to cure my leg," Aaron quipped.
Nora snorted softly, "Very practical of you."
Aaron's lips curved into a slight smile as he listened to the dial tone and handed the phone back to Samantha.
"Alright, you three, go change out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold."
The trio glanced down at their soaked garments and nodded, ready to head inside to change.
"Mr. Thomas, your clothes are all wet too! But you can't move your leg, so you'll have to wait for Mommy to come back and help you," said Samantha, her voice tinged with concern.
Aaron's expression darkened slightly, as a sense of helplessness rose within him. He felt like a helpless person, utterly dependent, waiting for Nora to assist him.
It wasn't long before Nora returned.
"Hey, my darlings, I'm home."
"Mommy, come quickly and help him change!" Samantha ran over and hugged Nora's legs.
Nora looked down at her daughter's haphazard braids and frowned. "Samantha, did you do your hair yourself? It looks like a crazy lady's handiwork."
Pouting with her mouth and touching one of her braids, Samantha retorted, "Mommy, Mr. Thomas did it. You don't appreciate it. Thomas said it's called 'asymmetrical beauty.'"
Nora was speechless.
As she turned her gaze to Aaron, Nora teased, "Looks like Thomas has taken up art—a kind beyond the average person's appreciation!"
"Seems like it," he responded coolly. "Did you get the new faucet? I'll go switch it out."
With that, he pressed the button on his wheelchair and rolled towards the door.
The three kids stood at the doorway, watching Aaron expertly install the new faucet.
"Billy, can you turn the valve back on?"
"Sure thing!"
Billy ran off to switch the valve, and clear water sprayed forth. Aaron then turned it off.
"There, all done."
"Wow, you're so cool!" Samantha clapped her hands in admiration.
Though Alex and Billy didn't speak, their eyes sparkled with excitement.
"It's nothing," Aaron said, brushing off the praise but secretly reveling in the kids' admiration.
Nora rolled her eyes as she approached with the wheelchair, "That should be simple enough. If you couldn't fix that, you wouldn't qualify as a man."
Aaron's smile faltered slightly, a hint of irritation crossing his face.
This woman was so darn proud. He'd just helped her out, and she hadn't even thanked him, taking it all for granted.
"I need to change and wash my hair."
Nora pushed him towards his room. She felt like snapping back at his stern face, but she reconsidered, remembering the day's events. She patted his head affectionately. "Sure thing, your highness."
Aaron was dumbfounded.
Patting him? Was she treating him like her fourth son now?
Nora fetched a clean set of pajamas and deftly changed Aaron into them.
Aaron cast his gaze downward, observing the woman's fair and slender fingers as they expertly fastened his shirt and pulled on his pants, his eyes shadowed.
He couldn't recall any woman ever being this close to him.
"All set. I'll prop you up in bed and then go get some water to wash your hair."
With her assistance, Aaron pushed himself up using the bed frame and lay back under her guiding hands.
As Nora was straightening up, a sudden pain at her scalp stopped her.
In the next moment, she toppled onto Aaron.
With a muffled grunt, Aaron glanced at the hand she braced on him and growled through clenched teeth, "Where are you touching?"
The button on Aaron's pajama top had caught a strand of Nora's hair.
She reflexively pulled her hand back as if scalded.
How mortifyingly awkward that she'd touched him there.
Flustered, Nora freed her hair and stood up straight.
"Thomas, watch your tone. I'm a doctor, and physical contact with patients is part of the job. There's nothing to it."
Aaron watched her feign composure.
"Seems like you've handled plenty of men."
Nora was silent.
At the door, Samantha's little hand covered her mouth as she scampered upstairs.
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