“Yep, he’s gonna break his neck, all right.”
Before I am tempted to break someone else’s neck, I follow behind the mattress. By the time I reach the top of the stairs, Simon is in Great-grandmother’s room, pointing and barking out orders to the two men staring at the bed. He’s wearing a black polo shirt and has a ball cap stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans. I sneeze from all the dust in the air, and he looks over his shoulder at me.
“You sure you want to keep the canopy?” he asks.
“Mom wants it.” I sneeze again and grab a tissue from the box sitting atop the delicately carved dressing table. Two more sneezes and I grab the whole box. The slender heels of my boots tap across the room and I slip outside onto the balcony. I debate whether to close the doors. I doubt Raphael is hiding in the bedroom, and there’s a hundred years of dust that needs an outlet. I leave it open and when the men fire up their drills, I figure another hundred years’ worth is about to get stirred up, too.
I blow my nose and stuff the tissue in my pocket. If the bird wanted to escape, he would right about now, but his naked bird body is nowhere in sight.
Simon pokes his head out the door. “I hear Ray-feel is on the loose somewhere,” he says as if he read my mind. “If he gets out, a heron will get him for sure.”
I look across at him. “If you’re worried, find Ray-feel and take him with you when you leave.”
He walks across the balcony and shakes the wrought-iron-and-wood railing like he’s testing it. “Solid,” he says.
“Are you trying to change the subject?”
His hair shines like black coal and a filigree shadow cuts across his wide chest as he turns toward me. “What subject?”
“The bird.”
“What bird is that, Ms. Lou Ann?” His grin is full of cool charm and hot intentions that reach the corners of sun-creased eyes. I have to wonder how many times he’s practiced that lady-killer smile in the mirror. I’m immune, but even I have to fight the urge to check my breath and reach for a Tic Tac just in case.
I decide to let the subject of Raphael go—for now. “I need to talk to you about the staircase railing. Obviously, it’s a safety issue.” Dust rolls out the door and I sneeze and grab a tissue.
“Bless you.”
“Thanks.” It settles on my silk blouse, reminding me that I need to find a laundry service. “Do you also repair stair railings?” I ask, and toss the Kleenex box onto the old rocker.
He nods. “What do you have in mind?”
“A railing,” I answer slowly because I don’t know exactly what he’s asking. “With wood… and nails.”
He cocks his head to the side and squints one eye against the sunlight. “Thanks for clearing that up. I thought you might want peppermint sticks.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Wood and nails are fine.”
Simon grabs the hat from his back pocket and slides it onto his head. “Do you want to replace it completely? Or do you want it repaired or restored?”
I understand the first option. “What’s the difference between repair and restore?”
“At least ten grand.” I stare at him, waiting to hear that he’s joking. Instead, his green eyes stare back at me from beneath the bill of his cap. “We can repair it for about four thousand. A full restoration takes quite a bit longer and costs a whole lot more.”
“Ten thousand more?”
“At least,” he repeats himself. “It’ll look beautiful when we’re done, but it won’t match the oxidized varnish on the stairs or floors. I recommend you have those done at the same time.”
“Are the stairs and floors included in the ten grand?” I rub the kink in my neck and wonder what to do.
He laughs. “No, ma’am.”
Somehow, I thought that was going to be his answer. If I replace it, Mom will complain that it’s not the same and she’ll want the old one put back. If I have it repaired, she’ll notice something’s different and want the old pieces put back. If I have it restored, it’ll cost me a lot of money. “Where can I get a second opinion?” On the upside, all three options will make Mom happy because she’ll get to see Simon more often.
“I’m in the business of giving my opinion, but you’re free to find someone on the internet.”
I guess that means he’s unwilling to suggest anyone else.
“If I were you, I’d get a plumber out here first, before some of those pipes rust out.”