“What’s twenty-five thousand dollars?” he asked.
“Only part of two new additional costs,” Tessa said. “Iknewall of this was a possibility because I’ve seen houses like this before, but I kept hoping this time it would be different.”
“Tell me.”
Tessa shared Charlie’s explanations concerning the knob and tube wiring and the brickwork that needed to be updated and repaired. When she finished, he typed the information into the spreadsheet he created for keeping track of repair costs. He moved his laptop to the coffee table and faced Tessa.
She wrung her hands together in her lap. “Let’s hear it.”
Paul tapped his finger against the coffee table. “With the addition of the electrical needs and the masonry repairs, you’re looking at a cost of”—he highlighted the grand total in red on the spreadsheet—“and I’m leaving room for error, so maybe it could end up costing less, but I don’t want to play it that way. The house will be livable. You’ll have plumbing and electrical, and the foundation will be solid. You’ll be able to repair either the kitchen or the bathrooms, but not both. You can update the kitchen with cheaper appliances or used ones until you can afford top-of-the-line appliances. You can refinish the flooring downstairs in the most important rooms—foyer, kitchen, dining room, and living room—but not the upstairs. We can probably hook up laundry in the garage for now. The balcony will have to wait, but we can fix the front porch. And as for aesthetics, there won’t be any money for that.”
“So no painting or repairing plaster or landscaping,” Tessa said. “No bathroom updates because I’ll need to have a kitchen. Cheap appliances, okay, I can handle that. I’m not that great of a cook anyway. Laundry room in the garage, got it. No flooring upstairs, so I’ll be walking on unfinished hardwoods. I won’t be able to afford furniture—I have my sleeping bag and tent.” She rubbed her fingers against her temples.
“At least the dining room and living room still have a few pieces of furniture.” He slid closer to her on the couch and grabbed her hand. “You can stay in the apartment for as long as you need.”
Her throat tightened. “I wanted to be able to do this.”
“Youaredoing this,” he argued.
“Anna and Eli want to be married in the backyard in October.”
“A lot can happen in a few months.”
Tessa sighed. “I wish your optimism were contagious.”
Paul pulled Tessa against him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Why don’t you relax for a while? Take a bath or whatever it is you like to do when you need to unwind. I’m going for a walk.”
“Are you coming back?” She winced at the pathetic tone in her voice.
Paul chuckled. “You think I’m bailing on you?”
“I wouldn’t blame you for hightailing it out of here. This could be a snowball effect, leading straight to a black hole. You might not want to taint your name with this project.”
“I assure you I have tainted my name sufficiently on my own,” he said. “Now go relax. Why don’t we make plans with your friends tomorrow?”
Tessa nodded and glanced at the wall map. After Mrs. Steele had kicked them out of the house on Sunday morning, she’d brought the mint plant back to the apartment. It had stretched its long tendrils around the silver pushpins again. Tessa’s eyes trailed to Mystic Water on the map. “If you stick around, won’t you miss your adventures?”
Paul followed her gaze. “Who said this isn’t one?” He leaned down and kissed her. Then he pulled her to her feet. “I’ll be back.” He grabbed his laptop, slid it into his bag, and walked out the door.
In the bathroom, Tessa turned on the faucets and filled the claw-foot tub. She could handle living without the nicest furnishings and proper paint on the walls. Possessions could be acquired over time. But Tessa wondered whether she could adjust to living without Paul. Would she have to? Or would this new adventure be enough to keep him in Mystic Water?
Tessa dangled her romance novel over the side of the tub and dropped it onto the bathmat. Paul had been right. The bathhadrelaxed her initially, but now an uneasy feeling crept into her chest. She sat up, shimmery bath bubbles sliding off her arms, and a bolt of lightning zigzagged across the sky outside the bathroom window. A cannon blast of thunder ripped through the silence, and Tessa flinched. She quickly stumbled out of the tub and drained the water.
After she’d toweled off and put on pajamas, she walked into the living room at the same time Paul hurried through the door. Rain splatters covered his clothes, and he’d shoved his laptop bag beneath his shirt as best as he could, giving him a square belly. Water had soaked through the top half of a brown paper grocery bag he held.
“Storm’s a’brewing,” Paul said in a British accent, leaning against the door to close it. “Winds from the east, bringing in gray mist and cold rain. ‘Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There’s an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it’s God’s own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared.’”
“Watson?” Tessa asked, walking over and taking the grocery bag from him so he could remove the laptop from its captivity.
Paul placed his laptop bag on the couch and pulled out the computer so he could inspect it. Satisfied, he plugged in the computer and left it on the couch. Then he scrubbed his hand through his hair, shaking rainwater into the air. “From Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s ‘His Last Bow.’ I was channeling Sherlock Holmes,” he said, pointing to himself. “That makes you Watson—”
“Who wasa guy,” Tessa said. She started unpacking the grocery bag.
“Not in my story. In my story, Watson is a beautiful woman who buys historic homes.”
Tessa grinned, but a twist of unease spiraled through her chest, and she paused from unpacking the groceries long enough to rub her fingers across her collarbone. “Is it bad out there?”
Paul nodded. “It’s wild. The wind nearly blew me off the sidewalk.”
