“Kinda.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I did some work on my first place in L.A. And I have a few friends who can help me out. You know the Johnson brothers?”
“The ones with the TV show?” Maddie asked. “How To Flip Your House in Thirty Days?”
“Yeah, that one. They’re gonna talk me through anything I can’t figure out. I’ll video chat them if I need
to. How hard can it be?”
“Waffles are ready!” Murphy shouted from the open kitchen door. “I’ve been ringing for you, Maddie.”
“Saved by the bell.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Stay here and I’ll bring your breakfast over.”
Chapter Nine
“Have you seen this?” Becca asked Gray when he made it home from town. She was holding out her phone and he leaned in to look at it.
“An email?” Gray said.
“Yep. From Reverend Maitland. Reminding his flock that we should be respectful to all visitors in town and make them welcome, not take photographs and share them on social media.”
Gray frowned. “Does he mention me?”
“No, but we all know it’s you he’s talking about.” Becca’s voice was gleeful. “I guess he doesn’t want you running through anybody’s yard again.”
“This is really unnecessary,” Gray said, scanning through the missive. “Just as Jesus welcomed everybody into his flock, we should do the same,” he read. “Please do not encroach on anybody’s privacy in church or outside of it.”
“Reverend Maitland’s emails are like papal edicts.” Becca was still grinning. “His word is law. People will leave you alone now.”
“Oh come on.” Gray handed back her phone. “This is the twenty-first century.”
“This is Hartson’s Creek,” Becca pointed out. “And as you keep reminding us, it hasn’t quite made it past the millennium yet.”
Gray’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see his manager’s name flashing on the screen. Swiping his finger, he answered it.
“Marco?”
“I got your message. You’re not serious about replacing those pipes and fixing the roof, are you?”
“I’m deadly serious.” Gray leaned on the kitchen table. “I promised my dad.”
“But you have an album to write,” Marco reminded him. “The recording studio is booked. Your label’s gonna be pissed if we pull out.”
“I’ll still be writing. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Okayyyyyy…” Marco trailed the sound out for four syllables. “But let me talk to the label, let them know what you’re doing. Maybe schedule a video conference. And about this construction, I’ll have to check your insurance, see what you can and can’t do.”
Gray laughed. “I’m almost certain they don’t mention plumbing in the cover letter.”
“It’ll come under manual labor. I’ll have to talk to the broker.” Marco paused as though he was making a note. “And how’s the family?”
“Okay. Wet.” Gray filled him in on the flood.
“Is your aunt okay? None of her things got ruined, did they?”
“She’s fine. Stronger than all of us put together. Can you arrange a truck for me while I’m here. I’m going to need it to pick up supplies.”
Marco started to laugh. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am.” Gray frowned. “Why does everybody laugh when I tell them?”