The Garage Door
Holtzmann wasn’t in the habit of thinking about clients after she’d done a job, but for the whole week after meeting Erin Gilbert, the teacher didn’t leave her mind once. She had this horrible feeling that something bad was going to happen with that fiancé of hers. She found herself lying awake at night, wondering if he had come back or if he was still missing. She wondered if he had gotten angry and broken things before. She wondered if Erin had lied about him never hurting her.
It was probably irrational, and inappropriate, to fixate like this, but Holtz had never been great about boundaries.
She wished that she had a way to contact Erin, just to check in, but she didn’t have a phone number. All she had was Erin’s address, and short of showing up at her doorstep, there was nothing she could do. She even contemplated contacting Abby, but that seemed like something a deranged stalker would do.
So, she did nothing, and continued taking on jobs, and tried to push the thoughts from her mind. Everything was probably fine.
It was about two weeks later when her phone rang. She wiped her plaster-covered hands on her pants and plucked her cell from her pocket.
“Holtz the Handymann, what’s your favourite colour?”
There was a pause.
“Is that an Elf reference?”
“Bless you for knowing that. How can I help you?”
The voice on the other end coughed. “This is Erin Gilbert. You fixed my wall a few weeks back?”
Holtz straightened up and transferred her phone to her other ear so she could hear better. “Hi! Yes! How’s it holding up?”
“Good, good. I was actually phoning because I have another job, if you’re interested? We’re having a problem with our garage door.”
“Sounds like a job for the Holtzinator. How ‘bout we schedule a time for me to come this time, so there’s no surprises?”
“Any day at 4:00 would work for me.”
“Tomorrow?”
“That would be perfect! Thank you very much.”
“See ya then, Erin,” Holtz said with a smile that Erin would never see.
***
Holtz slammed the door to her truck and gazed up at the house in front of her. She’d forgotten how nice it was. Large, perfectly manicured yard, double garage, gorgeous stonework…and the inside was just as nice. She strolled up the path to the front door, climbed the steps, and knocked four times in quick succession.
The door opened almost instantly, like Erin had been waiting on the other side.
“Hi! Come on in!”
Holtz shoved her hands into her pockets as she stepped into the house and Erin shut the door behind her. “So, what seems to be the problem?”
“I’ll show you,” Erin said as she gestured for Holtz to follow her. “I think the motor is jammed on one of the garage door openers. When we click the button, it just makes this awful squealing and grinding noise. I haven’t been able to get my car out. I’ve had to catch a lift from Phil in the mornings and carpool with colleagues coming home, but that isn’t sustainable.”
They had reached the garage. Erin switched the light on and Holtz stepped inside, then looked up at the mechanism on the ceiling. “Do you have the remote handy?”
Erin pulled it from her pocket and passed it over. Holtz pushed down on the button and listened to the noise in question. The door didn’t move.
“That is one stuck door.” Holtz scratched her chin. “Do you have the remote to the other door so I can bring in my tools and a ladder?”
***
Shortly after, Holtz was at work on the stuck garage door opener. Erin was right, it was jammed. Holtz spotted the problem area quickly, and knew it would take her no time at all to fix. The car in the middle of the garage made it a little difficult to get to, but with some careful reaching she’d be fine. She got to work while Erin hovered at the back of the garage.
“So,” she began casually as she worked, “the fiancé returned, then?” She glanced up in time to see Erin duck her head and go pink.
“The next day, yeah. Turns out I was worrying for nothing.” Erin let out a little half-hearted laugh.
“Oh,” Holtz said simply. She resumed unscrewing the box around the motor.
There was a hefty pause.
“He’s a good guy, really.” Erin sounded defensive all of a sudden. “Everybody gets angry some times.”
“Of course,” Holtz said carefully.
“I mean, haven’t you ever gotten so mad you wanted to break something?”
Holtz glanced at her, unsure what the correct answer was. “Uh…not really. I prefer to build things when I’m upset. A therapist once told me that it’s always healthier to create than to destroy.” Why had she said that? Erin was a virtual stranger.
Erin stared for a moment, then pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m going to go inside and let you work. Just come on in when you’re done.” Then she turned and was gone.
Holtz sighed and got to work.
***
Holtz stood in the centre of the garage and watched the door open and close again like a dream. She wiped the grease from her hands on her overalls and let herself into the house. “Erin? I’m all finished.”
There was silence. She called again, then heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Erin appeared in the kitchen a few moments later. The first thing Holtz noticed was that her eyes were red, like she had been crying.
Holtz awkwardly shifted her weight. “I’m done. The door is as good as new. Tested it out a few times. The motor was jammed, like you said, but it’s fine now and you should have no problems with it.”
“Great, thank you,” Erin said, her voice stiff. “How much do I owe you?”
Holtz mentioned her usual rate and Erin nodded and bent over the kitchen counter to scrawl out a cheque. She handed it to Holtz. “Well, thank you for coming.”
“Give me a shout if you ever need anything, Erin.” Holtz folded the cheque and pocketed it. “I mean it.”
“Of course. I’ll call if I need any more help with things around the house.” She put an emphasis on the last three words.
Holtz nodded curtly. “See you around.”
As she drove home, she couldn’t shake the image of Erin, crying alone in that big house. In the following days, she put off depositing the cheque, half-hoping that Erin would call her to make sure everything was fine with it. After a week, she stopped running her thumb along the signature—ink slightly smeared, big swooping G in Gilbert, long cross on the t—and deposited the cheque, resigned to the fact that she’d likely never hear from Erin again after that disaster.