Mr. Fixer Upper Novels & Stories

No way am I sleeping in this bed. Making my way back to the house through the garage, deciding to sleep in my own bed, I think about my taciturn repairman. He gave me a decent quote, and I paid the first half up front for supplies. He’s redoing the plumbing, the electrical wiring, and even replacing the roof. I’m thankful for him helping, but his attitude and personality are crap. He became more vulgar the more we talked, offering to clear my pipes and patch my holes; crap like that. Men are pigs. All of them.

I explain, handing over the pre-contract provided by the realtor, feeling discouraged already, thinking that he will surely choose the second option, and I'm certain that no other house will compare to that one. "You can make the contract," Richard says without hesitation, surprising me. "But what if the financier doesn't...?" "The financier has given you carte blanche after everything he saw regarding the projects," Richard reveals, smiling. "Wow, I would love to meet this benefactor and personally thank him. What's his name? I insist on inviting him to dinner at my residence."

I added. “It’s nothing serious, I can fix it.” Mr. Robert answered as he coughed, his voice was dry and I had no idea how a man that old could still be agile. I walked with him to the bathroom and watched as he dealt with the leaking pipe, it didn’t take him long to fix and when he was done, he picked up his tools to leave. “Thank you so much Mr. Robert.” I remarked as we both walked out and I led him to the door.

Graham said. Later, though, Graham would regret claiming his watch as fake, because after Elise fixed him with a medicinal tea, he said, “What can I offer you as payment?” Elise frowned. Then, her gaze landed on his watch. She said, “Um. Well, Elliott happens to be fixated on watches. Whenever we go to Hawkridge, where there is internet, he looks up watches. He had asked me once to get him a G-Shock MR-G. That’s how I know about your watch.”

I needed this fresh start. Mr. Thompson finally looked up, offering a small smile. "Your experience is impressive," he said, just as his office phone rang. He held up a finger in apology before reaching for the receiver. "Excuse me for a moment," he said, his voice shifting into a more formal, business-like tone.

Obviously this house is very different from the dirty gamer's house. "Do you live alone, ma'am?" “Now I live alone. Since my youngest child married a Michigan man. But at Christmas they will come with my grandchildren. I have three very cute children and five grandchildren.” "That's a sweet family. Where can I put these groceries.” "Just put it on the table. Now, this is the faucet that Robert Wiley fixed yesterday." Mrs. Aubrey showed him the faucet in his sink which had screwdriver marks on it. Ezra felt it, and found white tape between the fresh pipe joints.

“And I told your mother I’d get a plumber to fix it. But does that mean we can’t try a temporary solution? No. We’re problem solvers in this house.” I crouched to inspect the pipes, rolling up my sleeves. “Let me see.” Mrs. Jackson raised a brow. “You know what you’re doing?” I gave her a pointed look. “I build things, Mrs. Jackson. I think I can handle a sink.” She huffed but moved aside, handing me a wrench. I worked quickly, shutting off the water valve and tightening a few loose connections under the sink. Alex knelt beside me, completely fascinated as he watched me.