Page 66 of Threads of Kindness
“It’s still wickedly cold,” he said. “Let’s drive over.”
They got into his car and drove to the other side of the square. The new lock opened without effort, and a wall of warm air enveloped them. Dusk was falling. Even in the scant light from the open door and the window, the rich warmth of the original wooden floors glowed.
Anita gasped. “They look even more beautiful than I imagined. We’ll have to come back tomorrow to see them in full daylight.”
Gordon pulled his keychain from his pocket and switched on the small flashlight attached to it.
“How resourceful you are,” Anita said, smiling.
Gordon grinned. “Any appraiser worth his or her salt carries a flashlight.” He trained the beam slowly across the gleaming floor. “They did a beautiful job.” As he swept the light toward the back wall, an irregular, oblong shape reflected in the beam.
“What’s that?” Anita asked, her voice rising in alarm.
Gordon circled the dark patch with the light. He glanced at her, then slipped off his shoes.
“That’s water, isn’t it?” Her panic flared.
Gordon walked carefully across the floor to the spot. He bent to touch it, already knowing what he would find. He turned back to her and nodded.
Anita kicked off her shoes on the sidewalk and hurried to join him.
Gordon traced the wall with the flashlight beam to a spot on the ceiling that was saturated with water.
Anita and Gordon looked at each other.
“A broken pipe,” she said, gripping his arm. “A pipe in the new upstairs bathroom must’ve frozen in this cold snap and then thawed when they cranked up the temperature to cure the floors.”
“I’m afraid so,” Gordon said.
Anita groaned. “We just completed so many things.” She gestured around her. “Now we’ll have to rip out walls and pipes, rebuild the bathroom, redo the ceiling, and refinish the floor.” Her words came fast as she pointed out the affected areas.
“Call Sam and Jeff,” Gordon said. “I’ll go around the back to shut off the water.”
“Do you even know where it is?” she asked.
He was already outside, slipping on his shoes. “I’ll find it. Don’t worry.”
Sam and Jeff arrived fifteen minutes later.
“Tell Joan and Judy I’m sorry to ruin your Valentine’s Day plans,” Anita said as they came inside.
Sam turned on his flashlight and headed to the second floor without comment. The stern expression on his face spoke volumes.
“This never should’ve happened,” Jeff muttered. “The flooring contractor was supposed to leave the water running at a trickle before they left.”
Sam trotted down the stairs to rejoin them. “This is my fault. I should’ve turned the water on myself. I didn’t want to walk on the floors before they’re fully cured.”
“Don’t blame yourself. The flooring contractor knew what to do. How bad is it?” Jeff asked.
“A pipe burst in the bathroom wall upstairs,” Sam said. “But there isn’t much damage up there. I think most of the water ran down the wall. There must’ve been a low spot on the first floor where you found the puddle. Either the break just happened, or …” he pointed to the basement door, “you’ve got a basement full of water. I’m going to find out.”
Jeff clicked on his flashlight and followed Sam. Gordon and Anita hovered outside the doorway.
Sam hadn’t taken more than three steps down the stairs when he called up to them. “Yep. The basement is flooded. You could go swimming down here.”
He and Jeff returned, their expressions grim.
“I’ll have the basement pumped tomorrow,” Sam said. “I know you planned to remove the wood planks on the basement walls in the future, but they’re waterlogged. Mold will be a problem, so we’ll rip them out now. We’ll repair the bathroom, and some of the drywall on the first-floor ceiling will need to come down. The wet spot on the floor may need attention, too. We’ll dry it now and be back at first light to get started.”
