Later that day, Richard stood in the entryway of the old cottage his construction crew were remodeling. Percy Adams, the Chairperson of the Heritage Protection Society, was telling him about the pressed tin ceiling.
Almost a year ago, Penny Terry, a local business owner and property developer, saw the eight cottages on Anchor Lane and knew she could do something with them. After many meetings with the county, they were letting her create four small businesses and four community houses from the run-down cottages.
Built in the late nineteenth-century, they were originally vacation homes for the employees of the steamboat company in Polson. By the 1930s, when large-scale use of the steamboats was over, the cottages were abandoned. After they were gifted to the county, plans were made to repurpose them. But budget constraints and staff changes meant they remained empty for decades.
If Penny hadn’t returned to Sapphire Bay after her grandmother died, the cottages would still be falling apart.
“Steel wool should remove most of the rust,” Percy murmured as he studied the ceiling. “If that doesn’t work, use a buffing attachment on a high-powered drill, but be careful. If you push too hard, you’ll damage the tin.”
“We’ll go slowly.”
“Did you buy the special primer I suggested?”
Taking a deep breath, Richard nodded. “I bought some last week.” Since beginning the restoration project, Percy had made multiple visits to the cottages. His advice was always welcome but, sometimes, all Richard wanted was to get on with the remodeling.
A text pinged on his cell phone and he checked the message. “Do you have any more questions, Percy? I need to make a call.”
“Do you know if Penny has found tenants for the cottages?”
“Not that she’s told me. She should be here soon if you want to ask her.”
“I’ll talk to her later. Thanks for showing me around.”
“You’re welcome.” There was no point in asking Percy to make an appointment for his next visit. He had a habit of dropping in unannounced and offering his suggestions on what they should be doing. The only positive thing about his visits was that he knew what he was talking about.
After Percy left, Richard called the person who’d texted him. With the shortage in building materials biting all construction projects hard, he’d ordered enough drywall for the first four cottages. Whether the supplier could get any was another story.
“Hi, Richard.”
He turned around and frowned. Paris stood on the veranda wearing a blue and white gingham dress and bright red sneakers.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
“It’s okay. It’s gone to voicemail.” He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket. “Has anyone asked you where they can find the yellow brick road?”
Paris’s eyes lit with laughter. “Not yet, but Mabel Terry took a photo of me for the community Facebook page. Is Penny here?”
“Not at the moment, but she should arrive soon.”
Paris checked her watch. “Is it okay if I wait for her? She wants to talk to me about some flower arrangements.”
“That’s okay. But, if you stay, you’ll need to wear a hard hat and sign our visitor’s register.” Reaching into the box beside the front door, he pulled out a bright red hat.
“It matches my sneakers.”
He didn’t know what to say. With the hard hat perched on her head, she looked even cuter than before. “The register is sitting on the table.”
Paris looked at where he was pointing and picked up the pen. “It’s like Fort Knox.”
“If we don’t follow the correct health and safety procedures, the county will shut down the construction site.”
“And no one wants that.” With a flourish, she signed her name and looked into the next room. “When I last saw this cottage, it was full of trash and cobwebs.”
“A lot has changed since then.”
“You can say that again. I admire what you’re doing. Most people would have run a mile if they saw these buildings.”
Richard wouldn’t have blamed them. With rotten framing, water-damaged ceilings and walls, and a large population of rats and mice, they were everything a property developer didn’t need. “It’s just as well Penny saw past the years of neglect.”
