Chapter Seven
The next few weeks tested Carla’s mettle as a manager. The enormous task of gathering workers skilled in their craft proved challenging. Carla worked on a timetable that ensured each worker wasn’t in the way of another while pursuing specialized tasks. The language barrier didn’t make her task any easier. Estelle was always around as she had her hands full stocking the kitchen and making sure the men were fed. It always felt like a fiesta when the lunch bell rang with workers filling up banquet tables set outside.
Thankfully, Hans, a teenage boy and the son of the lead carpenter, assigned himself as her go-to guy. He knew the town well and assured her he could procure whatever she needed.
Today they were working on the exterior paneling, the Mann with the vertical beams in letter K. Carla was upset when Falcon decided earlier he wanted the beams stripped away opting for wooden claddings to replace the Ks.
Carla argued about the historical significance of the K style. Falcon was adamant.
“I don’t need to have my virility announced to the world. I know who I am,” he dismissed her argument.
Carla conceded and offered an alternative of decorative wood designed clads. It would make the house look more modern and yet retain the timeless appeal of wood.
Falcon agreed.
But it brought a particular problem. She needed a specialized band saw to make sure the wood fitted perfectly. The workman insisted that on using a traditional wooden saw. Carla tried to explain thru Hans that it wasn’t as precise as a band saw. The argument went back and forth with Hans trying desperately to get her message across. Carla threw her hands up in frustration.
The poor boy tried to diffuse the situation by promising he would scour the whole of Alsace till he found what she needed.
Carla had no cause for complaint. They were on schedule and the house was slowly taking shape. But she felt frustrated at not being able to say exactly what was on her mind. She and Falcon had settled down to a routine where he either stayed around or left after breakfast and retuned to have dinner with her. It irked her that he was mum about what he did in town and instead spent dinners talking about her progress.
He disappeared again earlier and Carla assumed he was headed back to town.
“He probably has a French girlfriend hidden somewhere,” she grumbled.
The thought was so unappealing she scowled.
“Something wrong,” Falcon asked appearing suddenly.
“Oh! I thought you were gone,” Carla replied taken by surprise.
“No, I’m here. But you didn’t answer my question.”
Where do you go each time you leave?
But she had no right to ask that.
Instead she said, “I was in argument with your carpenter. I never realized the French are so obstinate. Maybe it has something to do with me being a girl. They can’t accept being bossed around.”
Falcon laughed out loud. “The men are actually in awe of you.”
“Humph!”
“They are,” Falcon insisted. “They call you the Iron lady behind your back.”
Then he came close. “When was the last time you took a break from all these?”
“I’ve been to Alsace a couple of times,” She replied. She didn’t admit she hoped she would run into him there.
“Its so small you must have seen everything a couple of times already.” His eyes twinkled. “I have an idea that will make you feel better. Why don’t we go back to Paris today?”
It’s a 5-hour drive, you know.” Carla dismissed the suggestion thinking he was just teasing.
“less than an hour if we take the chopper, or have you forgotten?” Falcon replied earnestly.
“But-but I can’t just leave,” Carla argued. “There’s so much more to do.”
“It’ll still be here when we return and I think you need a break.” Falcon replied.
