Page 55 of V is for Valentine
It was midafternoonon Monday when Felicity’s dad finally arrived for a tour of the site with Bud Pratt, who’d managed to get enough time away from his short-handed hardware store to accompany his old friend.
Felicity tried to stop long enough to tour him through, but he’d told her that he didn’t need a tour guide. Actually, she was glad, because although things were moving smoothly, she wanted to take advantage of every second, just in case some unseen disaster loomed in the future.
Felicity continued to sand the last offices while the noise of her dad’s crutches hitting the tarp-covered hardwood floors echoed through the building. He’d taken the super slow elevator to the second floor to give Danny advice on the operation of the texturing machine, then to the basement to see for himself the malfunctioning lock.
“That’s strange,” he said when he and Bud joined Felicity in the office she was taping. “It was stubborn, but it worked when I had to tinker with Bertha the last time.”
“Maybe some kind of grit,” Bud guessed.
“Whatever. The city guy will replace it this week. And he’s giving Bertha a tune-up tomorrow.”
“Great. We need heat flowing to dry the texture,” her dad said. He was leaning heavily on his crutches, and he seemed slightly winded after traveling the entire worksite on them. Not that he would ever confess to such weaknesses, but when Felicity glanced at Bud, he gave her an almost imperceptible nod.
“So, I’ll see you at home, Dad.”
“Right.” He seemed relieved at the suggestion. “I’m thinking that I might be able to help with the final trim next Sunday.”
“Guess we’ll see how you feel then,” Felicity said noncommittally. She couldn’t keep him away, but she wasn’t going to let him hurt himself either. Thankfully Stevie and Tess would be there to make sure all was well.
She’d just started to work again when the front door opened, and she poked her head out of the office to see a man carrying an economy-size toolbox.
“I’m Deke. Here to look at the furnace.”
“Great. We only had to reset it once this weekend, but we can’t risk it breaking down before the paint is dry.”
“Gotcha.” He touched a finger to his forehead, then headed for the basement steps. “You got a lot done in here,” he called. “Looks nice.”
“Thank you. Don’t forget to look at the lock.”
“Yeah. That’s not all that unusual, locking on one side. I think the euro cylinder is compromised.”
“Interesting. Just…be careful.”
“If you hear any shouting, come rescue me,” he said jovially, and Felicity smiled.
After he disappeared down the hall, she pushed her hair away from her forehead with the back of her hand, then headed into the office she was finishing. Over an hour later, when Deke knocked on the doorframe to get her attention, she was still feathering seams in the same office, although the end was in sight—only eight feet away.
“Hey,” he said, taking a couple of steps into the room. “I have to order a part, but I managed to work up a temporary fix thatshould,” he made a tentative face, “hold until Thursday. If it doesn’t, the reset button should work.”
“Should?”
“It’ll work.”
“And the lock?”
“I’ll be replacing that when I replace the part. So,” he gave a cheery wave, “I’ll see you Thursday. Until then, use the door prop.”
“Thank you. Will do.”
It wasn’t until the front door closed behind Deke that she realized that the spray gun wasn’t running.
“Everything okay up there?” she called to Danny.
“Just filling the hopper.”
“Ah. I’m at the point in the project where I expect disaster.”
A few seconds later she heard him crossing the floor. “Then it’s time for a short break.”
