Walt shot me a grin. “It is a family dwelling, maybe the coolest one I’ve ever worked on, though I wouldn’t describe what we’re doing as some updating.” He stated that last like he thought it was hilarious, and in another frame of mind, I would have agreed. “But it’s probably not about the property. He’s tangled in a lot of stuff. We’re gonna need a lot of supplies to set this place to rights. He probably wants to make sure your contractor is utilizing the right suppliers.”
“And I can assume you aren’t using suppliers he’s tangled up in,” I remarked.
“Never met the guy, only know his reputation, but to be honest with you, I do business with people who take pride in what they do and do it well, not people who just wanna make a buck. So no, we don’t use his people.”
I gave a short nod. “I approve of this philosophy.”
He shot me another grin. “Thank God.”
I could not exactly grin back. I didn’t care about whoever Boston Stone was. I was still worried about what was happening with Coert.
But I gave it a shot, hoping it didn’t come out as a grimace as I said, “If there’s nothing else, I should leave you to it.”
“Nothing else, Cady. But if there is, I’ll give you a call and we can do some regular meets to go over progress. You back at the inn?”
This was an issue I’d had prior to returning.
Magdalene was a tourist town with all-year tourist trade, though part of the year due to weather was not as fruitful as other parts.
We were heading into summer, one of the fruitful parts. So I’d actually had to delay my return because the suite had been booked at the inn and now it was open for two and a half weeks. Somewhere to lay my head when I didn’t have to pack up and move to another room after a day or two.
But finding accommodation wasn’t easy considering most places had had bookings for months. Walt gave me his estimates of when the studio would be done, but with the roof, window and foundation work having to happen before he got into anything on the inside, that estimate was two months away. If they were delayed, and they would be delayed, it would be more.
So now I had bookings at the inn for two and a half weeks, moving to an Airbnb for two weeks, then moving to a bed and breakfast with an open cottage at the back for a week and a half, after that, back to the suite at the inn for a week. I was working on where to go after that and it would seem to be a safe bet that I’d need to tack on at least another week or two.
It would not be fun packing up and moving around so much only to end that going somewhere that would still be a construction zone for months.
But in the end, it would be worth it.
And if worse came to worse, I could just go home to Denver for a visit.
“Yes, back at the inn,” I told him. “But I’ll be moving around. It was hard to find space for a long period of time with the season almost on us.”
“I hear of anything semi-permanent that comes up, I’ll let you know,” he shared.
“That’d be nice.”
We shook and I walked out, not taking in the view or the workers or my fabulous new fence and gate.
I walked right to the gate, opened it, went through, closed it and got in my rental.
I sat in it thinking that I needed a car, this being my ploy to stop myself from thinking about something else.
To say the renovation of the lighthouse was going to dig deeply into what Patrick had left me was an understatement (not that it would dig that deeply, that was just how solid Patrick had left me).
Just the fence would give many people heart palpitations.
When Pat heard about the state of the place (and I’d showed around pictures), he’d lost his mind (on top of losing his mind that I was moving across the country at all, much less doing it to live close to, “those two fucking, fucking assholes,” this said loudly and Pat didn’t talk loud . . . or curse, not very often).
I stared unseeing at my beautiful new gate thinking that it had been good I’d been unable to obtain the suite at the inn in order to return, making my visit home a long one. It lessened the impact of the blow (somewhat) of the news I’d delivered.
Kath and Shannon, particularly, behaved like my move was a betrayal.
Mike had practically been apoplectic and used much harsher words when referring to Coert and Caylen and my future proximity to them.
I didn’t blame them for these reactions.
At the very least I should have been open about the decisions I was making. That said, even explaining to them why I’d done it the way I had, they didn’t realize that their heated and inflexible belief that I was doing the wrong thing made my sharing moot. We would never have agreed and it would have made the process even more painful than it already was.
In the end, it was the lighthouse that did the work.
Like it was the magic it was, even with the state of it, the photos (especially with the tulips) couldn’t help but win everyone around.
The kids came first, the younger ones beside themselves that visiting Auntie Cady meant going there. And Verity had been thrilled, considering Magdalene was only about a six-hour drive from New Haven. It meant she had family close. It meant she had me close. It wasn’t easy going home for the weekend from Connecticut to Colorado. But it would be to hop a flight up to see me (and me to do the same to see her).
The adults eventually followed suit, but only when I told the men I’d keep them abreast of everything that had anything to do with the renovation and when I told the women they could help me decorate.
On this thought, to keep my mind off Coert, I tossed Coert’s card into my bag, grabbed my phone and got out of the car to take pictures of the fence on both sides as well as the gate.
I texted the photos to the guys and gals and got back in my car.
I’d just turned around outside the gates and was about to drive down the lane when I pulled off to the side and idled in order to take a call.
Kath.
“Hey there,” I greeted.
“Oh my God! That fence is sublime.”
Kath.
My sweet Kath.
Coert had come to the lighthouse looking for me, knowing I was there, getting my phone number, and just her voice made me feel better.
Her excitement helped that feeling even more.
“You have to see it in person,” I told her. “Sublime doesn’t cover it.”
“Totally. And guess what?”
“What?” I asked, feeling my lips curve up.
“After you left yesterday, we had a family discussion, and with you and Verity both out there, we thought it’d be awesome to come for Christmas. So we’re all coming. All of us. We’re trying to figure out who’s going to sleep where and finding some space so you aren’t covered in thirteen people, but everyone’s excited. We can’t wait.”
They couldn’t wait?
“Oh my God, Kath, that would be amazing!” I cried.
“I know!” she cried back.
I immediately started strategizing.
“Okay, well, some of the kids can sleep in the family room on the second floor, but we’ll have to be creative about getting showers in because there’ll be only one in the house. And two couples could definitely do the studio. That’s quite a big space. And Daly and Shannon and the kids could be in the loft over the garage. It’ll be a close fit but we can get air mattresses. And if Verity and Bea are good with it, they can take the downstairs living room. I’ll make sure the couch is a pullout. I don’t know, but I think we can make it work so everyone can be together.”
“We’ll book some rooms somewhere close, just in case,” Kath replied.
“Good plan,” I agreed.
“And just to say, definitely that soft green blend of tile for your bathroom. It’s utter perfection,” she told me.
I was not surprised at this abrupt subject change. I’d been sending her ideas that Paige had sent me and all the women were excited to help, but Kath was throwing herself into it with unadulterated glee.
“I totally agree. I fell in love with it and tried to see if I’d fall out, but I just couldn’t.”
“That shield mirror she found is inspired too. All those fancy edges. Fabulous.”