Morning all. Tired and stressed is pretty much the name of today, and I expect that isn’t going to change any time soon. So I’m staying busy and trying not to think about all the stressers as I clear things off the to do list. Progress without breaking my brain. So timers at the ready and lets get moving before we dwell too long on things we can’t control!
I like this, I do not know where it is going, but I like the setting and the thought of someone trying to slip off the radar. Or maybe I just want to run away. Either way I will be thinking about this story start.
Thursday, February 13th: The tiles were dusty.
The tiles were dusty. She looked over the space, her feet leaving little imprints in the dust. Half she knew was from work on the house, but the rest she was certain was the dust settling after work came to a stop. ‘Only half of the tiles are down,’ she thought.
Jane stepped carefully over the edge of the finished section and on to the bare kitchen sub floor underneath. There was no grout as that would only go between the tiles once all the tiles were down. From the wall bare pipes boked showing where pluming was running. The pipes were capped and new wood showed where rotten boards were replaced.
‘Well newer wood,’ she thought. The person restoring this place managed to rip out all the old, replace the rotten structural element, even reconfiguring a few spaces. Then he was killed in a hit and run. His children squabbled over the vague terms of the will he left behind for well over two years. The final determination was that they both wanted money more than the house. However the shell of a house wasn’t selling. It wasn’t in a location byers wanted and the project itself looked daunting.
To Jane it reminded her of growing up. How many houses had her parents bought and refurbished over the years? She didn’t now. Her father’s job always had them moving. They would buy a house that needed love and her mother would provide the love and fresh design eye it needed. Then when her father was once again transferred, they would sell the house for a profit and move on to the next one.
When Jane thought of her childhood, there was almost always a construction site as he setting. Occasionally they got to live in the house fully renovated for a few months before moving on, but often there was the last push to finish the reno work once news of the next transfer came in. Over the years Jane managed to get a hone a host of reno skills and knew this project, no matter how daunting it was for some buyers, was right up her alley.
‘And it’s location works for me,’ she decided.
Jane continued her tour and found that the half tiled kitchen was the most complete room in the house. The living room managed half a wall of drywall fixed into place and she could see the insulation ready to be covered up. A few of the other rooms had their insulation, but no dry wall. When she went upstairs she found that the open walls displayed the new plumbing pipes and wiring but no sign of any drywall or insulation, let alone finishes.
Looking in the garage she could see that there were some supplies placed there. How usable they would be would depend on how weatherproof the garage was. As the nervous realtor did not have the combination to the lock holding the shed closed, they couldn’t check.
Jane turned to the realtor. “It will take a lot of work,” she said. She could see the realtor prepare for a rejection. Even after the final division of property the house sat on the market a while. She mentally did the math. “It has good bones though,” she added. “If the price is right I can make it work.” The realtor’s face lit up and Jane gave her offer. The realtor slipped away with her cell phone to begin the process of negotiating.
Ten til Midnight 