The Restoration of Celia Fairchild - Marie Bostwick Page 0,108

the bar as hard as I could. On the third try, I heard a groan and a crack. The entire ledge of the windowsill did, indeed, “pop off.” I stepped back to appreciate my handiwork.

“Okay, that was extremely satisfying.”

“Demolition always is. Best anger management tool known to man.”

“I feel so powerful. Can I do it again?”

“Be my guest.”

I slammed the bar as hard as I could against the window frame but aimed a little too high and ended up splintering the wood. A chunk of it flew across the room, landing on the wood floor with a clatter.

“Oops! Here. Maybe you should take over,” I said, holding the pry bar out to Trey. He waved off the offering.

“Doesn’t matter if it breaks; it’s all going in the dumpster anyway. Don’t worry. You’ve got this.”

He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest to watch, leaving me on my own. This time I wedged instead of slammed, then leaned my weight onto the bar. Once again, the frame popped off. It was even more satisfying than it had been the first time, because I’d done it completely on my own.

“Good job,” Trey said. “Now all we have to do is remove the rest of the old woodwork and then do the same in the other rooms. I don’t want to take out the windows until Lorne and Polly get back from the hardware store. Hopefully they’ll have enough in stock. If they do, it’ll probably be a real mishmash of styles and sizes.”

I didn’t know exactly what had transpired between the brothers after Trey asked me to put Lorne on the phone, but obviously, some kind of truce had been declared. The next thing I knew, Trey was standing on my front porch wearing faded jeans, a plaid shirt, and a tool belt, and the brothers were actually talking. However, not with any warmth, nor with any acknowledgment of the fact that they hadn’t spoken in years.

This seemed really weird to me. I mean, when estranged women decide to call a truce and cooperate for some larger cause, the work cannot possibly proceed without some acknowledgment of the wrongs suffered and inflicted, followed by apologies and possibly a few tears. Depending on the timing and circumstances, there might be an exchange of gifts, possibly a themed brunch with floral arrangements and thank-you notes. The air would be cleared, fences mended, and everybody would move on.

Not so with the Holcomb brothers. Their means of dealing with the elephant in the room was, apparently, to pretend it wasn’t there. They didn’t shake hands or even really say hello. Instead, they launched immediately into a discussion about what had to be done and the fastest way to make it happen. Five minutes after Trey arrived, he and I were heading upstairs to start the demolition and Lorne was on his way to the hardware store to buy any windows he could lay his hands on.

“I’m not worried about the windows matching,” I said. “As long as it satisfies the inspector and gets the placard off the door before Monday afternoon, I’m good. But do you really think we can get it done before then?”

“Well . . .” A noncommittal shifting of shoulders relayed Trey’s doubt. “There’s a lot to be done and not many hands to do it. But win or lose, I refuse to go down without a fight.”

I smiled. “I knew I liked you. So, where did you learn all this stuff? Construction, I mean?”

“My dad was a contractor. Lorne and I worked with him every summer from eighth grade on.” Trey picked up the pry bar, wedged it beneath the remaining frame, and popped it off in one piece, then kicked it out of the way and glanced in my direction. “You seem surprised.”

“I am, kind of. I just figured that Lorne was the brawn and you were the brains in the family. But I have to say,” I moved my hand through the air with a waving motion that took his working man’s ensemble in from head to toe, “this is a much better look on you. You should dress like this all the time, even in court.”

“Yeah?” He let out a laugh. “I know some judges who’d disagree with you. Also, metal detectors don’t really like tool belts. But hey, thanks for the advice.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “It’s kind of my specialty. Of course, in my experience, free advice is usually worth exactly what you paid