I am fidgeting with a spanner. There was just a week and a half before Cassie's May 2nd Indianapolis show, and I knew I couldn't go because of a meeting with a client that day.

I tried to move it so I could see the show, especially since it's on a Friday evening, but the client didn't just need me that day but all week.

It was good money, so I can't complain, but it meant missing a show and some time with Cassie.

The Los Angeles show will be on a Thursday, even worse, but I usually skipped the shows on the West Coast. This was where Cassie now lived, in San Francisco, but she toured all over the world. I just usually waited until I could actually make it.

I used to be torn about May 2nd. Should I accelerate the training to skip Friday so I can drive all day to the show, or just give up?

The problem is that most of my clients can't keep up with the training, or I can't keep up with their questions. I didn't know that client well enough yet to predict in which category they would fall.

I built them an exotic thermal reclamation grid. It's not rocket science. It's just a system to evacuate heat from machines that get too warm so it can be stored for processes that need it. I guess rockets also generate a lot of heat, and when you purge, it comes out like rocket exhaust, but the factory doesn't actually fly away. So, not rocket science.

Operation is simple enough. The main control panel I built for them has four buttons, three gauges, two lights, and one dial. The two lights are red and green. When it's green, the system is operating normally. When it's red and the alarm signal is on, you need to purge one of the three reservoirs using the button under it. It doesn't even matter which one. Wait until the light turns green and press the reset button.

That's all. It doesn't really need much intervention anyway, as it mostly runs itself. In fact, the only reason it doesn't auto-purge when full is that they explicitly asked me not to. I even hid a switch under the main control board so when they change their minds, I can just tell them to flip it. Why wouldn't you want to auto-purge?

I am sure they will ask me a ton of questions anyway. They always do. No, it doesn't matter which tank you purge, as they auto-equilibrate when not purging. Yes, they can add more ducts to grab more heat when they add more machinery. That part is pretty standard. It's like a vacuum that sucks up the heat from the machinery. I didn't even build all of it: HVAC experts did it. I can't do everything, and they know their stuff.

Yes, you can use the heat any way you need it. They have a painting room where they need heat to cook the paint on their devices, so they can use the heat from the reservoirs. The HVAC guys did that. They can also heat the factory in the winter. I hooked the thermostat up. They didn't used to need to heat it, since it was kept warm by the machines. Well, now, I am grabbing that heat, so it might be needed. There is even a plan for a small thermal power plant to make electricity from the captured heat, but until we know the differential between their heat generation and their heat needs, we don't know if it's worth it. After a year, we will know. If they purge every week, we'll know. If they forget to purge if needed, well, we'll know, but it will be too late to build a thermal power plant.

Most of the training time will be on how to operate the different heat stations, like the paint room or the curing ovens.

What they will probably ask is how it works, and I can explain what the individual parts do and how they are assembled, but that's about it.

I'm not sure how it actually works. I understand the parts I built: the phase-change tanks, the valves, and the frequency modulators, but if you asked me why the heat can be stored almost indefinitely without losses, I wouldn't know. Probably something about enthalpy gradients and energy resonance. Or maybe it's the special ceramic I used for the heat exchangers. The datasheet said it had "quantum heat retention properties," but I didn't read the whole thing. I couldn't connect how it was related to quantum computers. It's not like ceramic tiles are used in making qubits.

I suspect they will ask me to explain the "quantum ceramic retention matrix," and I'll just show them the manual. It has diagrams. I haven't read them either.

It doesn't really matter. The important part is, it saves about seventy percent of the factory's energy. It just runs in the background without much help. If the red light comes on, you flush a tank, and it usually goes away.

If it doesn't, you call me.

That's the thing about my inventions. I can always figure out how to make them, but I can't always figure out why they work.

I suppose that's fine. Nobody asks a sandwich how it became a sandwich. They just eat it.

I decide to go talk to Mrs. Paterson to make sure she is okay. I will travel over the weekend, and I don't like to leave her alone for that long. Sure, I am not her roommate, as we each have our own apartment, and I am not her husband. The problem is that she is a widow.

The landlord isn't really present for us. He will eventually send someone when something breaks, but it's usually after nagging him for a few days. I suppose it's sensible, as most problems go away on their own.

But Mrs. Paterson isn't very patient. When something bothers her, she wants it fixed, so often, I help her out. I get some excellent food and get to hear her stories, so it's not really a loss for me. She lost her husband. It's the least I can do.

She used to complain the pipes in her apartment would shake whenever I used my faucets, my shower, or the bathtub. Seeing how I need to still use them, I did some research. I wanted to fix the pipes in Mrs. Paterson's apartment, but they're inside the walls and behind her furniture. She wasn't keen on me opening up her walls to reduce the noise.

I considered changing how my faucets work, perhaps with a feedback system to reduce how fast the pressure is opened or closed. I even considered letting a small stream run at all times, but it's a waste of water.

So I went to the hardware store to look at connectors to see if one could reduce the noise when the employee came to help me. I love when experienced employees help, because I can't know everything.

"What you need is a water hammer," he suggested.

Immediately, my imagination brought me to the shore, with a Viking trying to push away the tide by using a large hammer, but I knew that this wasn't what he had in mind.

He picked a part from a bin. It's a simple piece of equipment that you install between the faucet valve and the faucet pipe. At its top, there is a sort of metal pipe, which contains a spring. When water pressure suddenly rises from closing the faucet, the spring absorbs the sudden excess pressure.

In theory, I only needed one for the cold pipes since the hot pipes come from my own water heater. The excess pressure from my other faucets would also be dissipated by the single water hammer.

In practice, I couldn't trust the plumber who built the apartment. What if the pipes run in the floor and not in the walls so that Mrs. Paterson can hear them? What if I have two cold water circuits and not one to reduce the quantity of pipes?

So, I put two on each sink, faucet, and on my shower. I had built an access door in my lab closet to access the shower pipes for a project, and this helped me do the installation. The bathtub already had its own access door in my bedroom closet.

Mrs. Paterson was over the moon!

I check my clothes. She doesn't like it when I get into her apartment with dirty clothes. Wait, no, it's not that she doesn't like it. It's that she worries about me.

But I have been working on my portals, and when I work on them, I don't have a choice: I work in the nude, or I can't test them.

She opens the door, smiling. "I just put one of my chicken pot pies in the oven, and they taste better fresh. Want to give me company over a nice warm meal, Earnest?"

She always calls me by my full name. She also wants me to call her Barbara, but I feel like I should respect my elders properly.

"If you insist, Mrs. Paterson, but I came to make sure you were okay."

She laughs. "Earnest, I am a widow, not an invalid," she says, moving away from the door so I can get in.

"It's just that I am leaving for the weekend."

"Oh, anywhere interesting in mind?"

"Indianapolis. I don't know where yet, but I need a room for about 2 weeks"

"Two weeks?"

"I will only be there for the weekends. "

"Ah, right, isn't it one of Cassandra's big shows next week?"

I look at her. No one uses her full name, but then again, Mrs. Paterson met Cassie before she was a huge star. When she was just starting in the music industry.

"Yes, they just announced two other dates."

"How exciting. I am thrilled she is having such success. I love when you bring her over for supper to my place. I hope she is still happy with the contract I negotiated for her."

"I haven't heard anything. I suppose so. "

"Come sit. It's that big training next week for you. Are you ready?"

"As much as I can be. I never know what curveball questions they will have for me."

She laughs. "Earnest, you always worry too much. That contract I made for you is foolproof."

"I know, and thank you for it. I might have a patent in the pipeline."

"I'll help you with that too when you get there, but remember, if it's too cutting edge, you might as well keep it a secret. That quantum router project was copied in China, and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Right. I still don't understand why, but I trust you. You've been an attorney for so long," I say.

I don't know how old Mrs. Paterson is. She is a widow, and aren't widows like, 70 or older? But she kept her law license, helping me and Cassie with contracts. She is at home almost every day, so she must not work a lot. Maybe she is just pre-retired and, like, 62? Still, that's a lot of experience.

She laughs. "It certainly feels that way. When the young attorneys learn that I got my license in the previous century, they think I am a hundred. But it was just two and a half decades ago."

"Did I keep the noise down enough?"

"It's just when I am on a conference call that I need to concentrate. And ever since you put that foam in your bucket, I can barely hear your spanners being thrown."

"Good. I never miss it."

She laughs. "You never do. So, any new ladies in mind?"

Somehow, Mrs. Paterson never picked up that I loved Cassie. Even when I try to insinuate it, she doesn't understand.

"My work has been keeping me busy."

"Right, your work. You can't hide from your feelings, Earnest. One day, you won't be so young anymore, and all the good straight women will be paired up or will have given up."

I look at her. She can't understand it. Cassie is just perfect. I feel sparks when I am close to her. The hair on my arms stands up, and my heart beats strong. I've been in love with her since we were kids and didn't know what love even was, but ever since that magical weekend camping, my body reacts even more when I'm with her.

"I'll work on it," I say. It sounds practical that way. Even when I don't know what I would do, saying that you will work on it seems polite.

The reality is that no other woman can make me feel the sparks, the gut feeling that something is just right. Only Cassie can do that.

I realized it on those camping trips. I thought it would be when we could start dating. I thought it would create our couple. Instead, it was the birth of something new. Of that spark... And I know she felt it too. I know that now it's just a matter of time. Or, more importantly, of timing.

The chicken pot pie was delicious, and the company, sublime. I love listening to Mrs. Paterson's contract negotiations, but tonight she outdid herself and told me about a recent litigation.

"You have to understand, Earnest, that in a civil case, it's not beyond a reasonable doubt. The rule is based only on preponderance of evidence. It makes it easier to sue and harder to defend, but that client, I got the jury so wrapped around my fingers that they ruled in his favor."

It was a great story. I don't recall the details, but then again, I never do. It's not technical. Well, to her, it is. But legal technical, not technology technical. I am not that bright, just handy. And well, there is nothing handy about law.

Things about rules of evidence, burden of proof, and litigation strategies fly right over my head. But am I going to tell an elderly, almost-retired widow to stop talking when she's sharing her table with me? Of course not. When I tell her about my latest projects, she listens to me. And she has a soothing voice compared to the humming of my projects.

It's called being a good neighbor, and I am an excellent neighbor. Even if I tend to throw my spanners in a bucket.