"That's right. The old shack will be flattened with one nudge from the
backhoe and that'll be that. All dreams must come to an end."
"Sarcasm thicker than blood, I see. But all the same I am sorry, Alma.
You know that, don't you? That I'm not casual about it?"
"I want you to be casual."
"I can't be. You're my friend."
"You're crazy. Pretend it's a mistake you made in the past and forget it."
"Not likely."
"How's Jaak? Did you go to see him last night?"
"Of course. We had dinner together."
"Oh sure. You fed him his dinner and cleaned everything up and then you
ate while he stared or slept."
"Yes..."
"I shouldn't have said that. I always say the wrong thing. Sometimes I
even know it and can't seem to stop the words, like I'm rushing to
provoke what I don't want."
"The end of us? Well, it won't happen, that's all."
"What about the job offer?"
"I haven't answered the message the woman left. The architect."
"Why not?"
"I keep thinking she'll give up. I can't be the only carpenter in the
district."
"If you really don't want to be bothered, answering her is the way to end
it. Tell her no. You can do that better than anyone I've ever met."
"Huh."
"Why haven't you answered?"
"The job's at the house."
"What house? Your house, you mean?"
"It's not my house."
"No, but Ripley House? The house you loved as a child, where you go
sometimes. Have you been since Cella died? Did you go?"
"No."
"There's no one there is there?"
"No. No one at all."
"Who inherited it from Cella?"
"I don't know. Maybe it shifted back to some other part of the
family. I always had the idea Cella's getting it was a surprise to some
people. I think she got it for taking care of Marian while she died. She
died forever."
"So maybe it's one of Marian's heirs? Cella had none?"
"I don't know. I expect if it'd been me I'd have heard by now."
"You're so full of laughs, clever you. But whoever owns it wants...?"
"Is having it renovated. Extensively. Probably in order to sell it for
megabucks as a romantic historic hideaway yabble yabble."
"It'll cost."
"Uh-huh. Renovations always do, especially when they involve an
architect."
"Do you know this one?"
"I didn't. But I've checked. She's tenacious. She sticks to her designs
and sees to their construction like a contractor.
I can't see she's kicked up any bad smell
among crews who've worked for her. She's had a steady head carpenter
for several years, I think. She pays on time."
"And?"
"I went to look at a couple things she's done. She's ok. She must think
about what she's doing."
"So?"
"I don't want to work at the house!"
"But why? Wouldn't it be good to spend some time there?"
"You talked me into spending some time there, but it was to be alone.
For me to think, maybe settle something, decide what I was going to do
and how and where I was going to go as soon as the backhoe arrives."
"No one ever talks you into anything, Alma. No one could push you. There's
the slightest, teeniest, tiniest possibility that maybe someone might
nudge you toward something."
"Aren't you the visionary."
"And so you went to the house."
"I started out. I never got there. Alone, I mean. I met the architect. We
talked. Briefly. But I had to leave. I couldn't stay at the house. They're
starting work, and before, the architect was there exploring, thinking
things through, whatever architects do."
"You know what the good ones do. Why belittle it? She was there feeling
the house, wasn't she? She's going to do a good job and you ought to be
there to help her. You know the house. You know its life better than
anyone now Cella's dead."
"She loved it."
"She treasured it, from what you've indicated. What would Cella want?
Would she want you there?"
"She's dead."
"I know."
"Well, she's out of it, then. And even if she weren't she's got no hold on
me. There's no debt to call in."
"I know. But what about a gift?"