Every year, he said. Never fails. The fat man pulled a wrench out of his back pocket. It taunts me. Like some outer space robot. Something you’d see in the movies, he mumbled. An outer space robot that doesn’t work.

My dress is soaked, the wife said. You can almost see through it. She stood behind him as he bent on one knee again. You want a Pepsi?

Yes, he nodded. I’ll take one, he said. It was his third can of pop that morning. What the hell is wrong with it?

The phone rang. Fat man could hear his wife talking. Talking about how hot it was outside.  Flirting almost with the next-door  neighbor. He threw his tool at the window unit.

Robert? That was Charlie. He said he’d be right over to help you fix it. Here. Here’s your Pepsi. He took a long drink as condensation ran down the aluminum can.

You think he can fix this?

I don’t know. Maybe.

Maybe?

You’ve been trying all morning.

Right. The husband stared outside.  Charlie’s grass was cut and green. Flowers and plants were in an array of colors. The siding on his house was washed. His wife was thin.

Take a break, dear, she said. He’ll be right over. 

You can’t wait, he mumbled. Can’t wait for Charlie. Robert got off the floor. Sonofabitch.  

The doorbell rang. I’ll get it, Helen told him, making her way across the shag carpet. Oh, look. He brought his toolbox. Always thinking, that Charlie. 

She opened the front door and there he was. Tall. Square jaw. Blonde hair. Looked like a German, Robert laughed. 

Hey, neighbor. Heard you had some trouble. You know, one of these days you’re going to have to get Central air. There was silence. Well. Let’s take a look.

You want a Pepsi? Helen asked as he made his way to the window.

That’d be great, honey.

Robert just looked at his back, facing him. He called her honey. Comes into my house and calls my wife, honey.  Sonofabitch.

See. You’re not going to need that wrench, Charlie smiled at Robert.  Need a screwdriver instead. Gets in there. He took the front of the window unit off. Examined it. See, he said. New filter. Needs a new filter. That’s all.

Here’s your Pepsi, she smiled.

Charlie turned his back on the two and started to take out the filthy filter. Robert looked at the back of his blonde hair, held on tightly to the wrench. Do it, a voice inside told him. Just do it. Now’s the time.

These filters. Like I said. Central air is the way to go. Might cost you, but… Robert? You OK?

There was silence. Robert placed the heavy tool on the coffee table.

I’m fine.

Sure?

Yeah.

Well. I better get going. Gotta take Jr. to baseball practice. You know, he’s getting better and better.

You do that, Robert told him. You do that.

OK.

Thanks, Charlie, Helen placed her hand on his back as she walked him to the door. Thanks again.

You bet.