Page 94 of Mr. Fixer Upper
“I’m going in first because I want to see your face.”
“I always wanted my own reveal,” Paige joked.
“Not like this,” Gannon grinned. He gave the doors a shove with his shoulder, and they reluctantly screeched open on their hinges.
“Sounds like a horror movie.”
“Yeah, it’s about to look like one, too.”
She stepped across the uneven threshold behind him and gaped while Gannon found the light switch. It smelled like a horror movie too. Dusty, musty air that she could taste, not just smell.
“You’re insane,” she decided.
He leaned against the newel post of what had once been a grand staircase. It was missing more spindles than it still had. Cabbage rose wallpaper peeled off the wall of the front room and looked like it continued into the next. There were holes, gaping, jagged sections, where floor had once been.
“Just watch your step,” Gannon warned, grabbing her arm when she made a move. The hardwood, she noted, was unsalvageable. Water damage, stains, too many holes to patch. It creaked beneath their feet.
“Is it safe for us to be in here?”
“Mostly,” he said, his cheerful tone full of uncharacteristic optimism.
There were two fireplaces on this floor with white marble surrounds and cracked out slate hearths. Someone had converted one to a gas fireplace with an ugly brass insert.
“Well, at least your table and buffet will fit,” Paige commented, eyeing the space.
“That’s what I’m thinking. Living room up front, dining here, but I want to bust out the rest of this wall to open it to the kitchen. Which is—or was—back here.”
He kept her hand in his and led the way, weaving between holes and ducking under plaster that hung from the ceiling. The linoleum, green and white fleur de lis, peeled up from all corners. There was a faded red counter top with metal edge, a yellow refrigerator that screamed seventies, and nothing else. The tall, skinny door in the back right corner led out to what looked like a jungle of a backyard. Windows lined the rest of the back wall.
“Well, at least you got a fridge in the deal,” Paige said.
“That’s the spirit. I might move it to my office downstairs for beer.”
He took her downstairs, which was worse. Here, a previous owner had put down thick brown carpet that now smelled like cat pee. The walls were paneled a dark, knotty brown. The footprint was the same as above and despite herself, Paige started to see potential. There was another door all the way at the back that Gannon wrestled open onto a shabby patio with a rusted-out wheelbarrow and an old water heater. Above them, the remains of a definitely not-to-code deck wobbled with the breeze.
Gannon pointed out architectural details and talked repointing brick and running new wiring. Paige remained silent and took it all in. He led the way back to the main level and then up the rickety staircase, avoiding the missing treads.
“Easy fixes,” he insisted, holding her hand as she scrambled over two steps.
He flipped light switches and towed her through the space. “I think the master would go on this floor, maybe with a sitting room or some kind of den,” he said. More brown carpet, more cabbage roses, and cobwebs so thick she couldn’t see through them. There was a sagging mattress covered in dubious stains propped up against the wall.
“The bath’s here now, but obviously it needs to be bigger.”
The black and white checkerboard tile looked to be original. As did the plumbing that led to the cast iron claw foot tub. “Oh, Gannon,” she breathed. “You have to keep this.”
“I’m sure as hell not hauling it down that staircase,” he snorted.
“Plumbing, electrical, drywall or whatever,” Paige started ticking items off.
“I can fix it,” he said amicably.
They pushed to the rear of the third floor, finding more windows and another door. “A balcony?” Paige asked swiping a hand over the dirty glass to peer outside.
“Careful, you might get tetanus or diphtheria touching shit around here,” Gannon warned.
“Can we see the backyard… safely?”
“If we don’t breathe too hard on the kitchen deck we should be able to get an idea of the forest for the trees.”
