Sometime after midnight, I heard Dad speaking quietly on the phone.
I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
I assumed he was talking to Claire or another relative.
I didn’t ask.
Later, I would wish I had.
Over the next several days, Claire arranged repair estimates.
A drywall contractor inspected the three holes.
A plumber checked the bathrooms and water heater.
Fortunately, the drains had remained open, preventing a major flood.
But moisture had damaged part of the upstairs bathroom floor.
And the water heater had been running continuously.
One contractor looked at the damage and shook his head.
“Someone was very angry.”
I gave a tired smile.
“That’s one way to put it.”
The plumber had a different observation.
“Whoever left those faucets open knew they could waste an enormous amount of water without immediately flooding the house.”
That stayed with me.
Because Brian had always been quiet when he was angry.
