“It will not work!” he shouted. “It will be a disaster. She’s eighty-seven years old, for heaven’s sake. It will kill her.”
“Her choice,” Gracie reminded him.
“No, by God, it’s my choice, and I say that this will not happen.” He slammed his fist into the wall for emphasis, then ruefully rubbed his knuckles.
“Did that help?” Gracie inquired.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His gaze narrowed. “Gracie, you’re not taking me seriously. I will not allow my aunt to get involved in this.”
“Admittedly I don’t know your aunt very well, but she has all her faculties, doesn’t she?”
“Yes,” he conceded grudgingly. This was the second time today someone had reminded him that his aunt could outwit the armed forces of any three nations combined.
“And she still has energy to spare?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
“The problem, is…” His voice trailed off. “I don’t know what the problem is exactly. It’s just a bad idea.”
“Your opinion.”
“Whose money is going into this?”
“Mine.”
“Who’s going to arrange for all the work?”
“She can point me in the right direction, but I will.”
“Then what exactly is my aunt contributing to this arrangement?”
“The house, moral support, whatever she feels like contributing, I suppose. We didn’t discuss that.”
“What happens the first time you disagree over the color of the paint or the wallpaper?”
“We’ll discuss it like rational adults.”
“I’ll bet. Have you ever tried to argue with an old woman with the grit of General Patton?”
“Not really,” Gracie said, then grinned. “This will be the first time, though, that she’s met her match.”
He stared at her and sighed. “I really hate this idea.”
“It will work,” she promised.
“And if it doesn’t?”
“It will.”
He threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. Two against one wouldn’t be bad odds under normal circumstances, but the two were Gracie and his aunt. He might as well have been up against Atilla the Hun and his troops. “Okay, fine. Go for it,” he muttered. “Just don’t expect me to climb ladders, hang wallpaper, or fix leaky pipes.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gracie assured him. “You’d probably just mess it up anyway.”
He opened his mouth, clearly ready to snap out a retort, but then he backed down. “You’re not getting me to fall into that trap,” he said.
“Too bad. I guess I’ll just have to be sneakier about it next time.”
“You’re a menace. You know that, don’t you? First you trick a sweet old lady into going along with your crazy scheme and now you’ve almost got me snookered into it, too.”
She regarded him innocently. “Do I really?”
He cupped her chin, forced her to meet his gaze. “Gracie, I don’t want my aunt’s heart broken.”
“How on earth would that happen?”
“For some crazy reason, she’s viewing this as the fulfillment of a dream. I don’t want it to turn into a nightmare.”
“It won’t,” Gracie assured him. “You should have seen her yesterday. She was so excited she could barely sit still. Her ideas were tumbling out almost as fast as mine. I think we’ll make a great team.”
“Why is it then that when I think of the two of you working on this together, the first thing that comes to mind is Lucy and Ethel?”
Gracie grinned. “They might have been wacky and unorthodox, but in every I Love Lucy episode I ever saw they got the job done.”
Kevin only recalled the chaos.
18
The sound of hammers echoed through the house. Dust was swirling in the air and it was hotter than a sauna, but Gracie stared around at the mess with satisfaction. It was happening. It was actually happening. A few weeks from now she would have her bed-and-breakfast inn.
For the past two weeks she and Delia had engaged in a whirlwind of activity. She’d tried as much as possible to steer clear of Kevin, who continued to regard the whole scheme as a personal betrayal. Still, he hadn’t tried to interfere, and for that she was grateful.
She’d left hammering out the legal details to Delia. The woman was amazing. She had the grit and determination of someone a quarter of her age. Besides, she wasn’t the least bit cowed by Kevin’s disapproval. Gracie, for all of her staunch defense of the plan, hated that she was going against his wishes. It would have been much more fun if he’d been an enthusiastic participant.
“Gracie, you’re wool-gathering again,” Delia chided. Her expression turned sympathetic. “Is it Kevin? Hasn’t he come around yet?”
“No. He’s still furious about this. Haven’t you been able to tell from his attitude at home?”
“I haven’t really worried about it. I know him. He’ll get over it in his own good time.”
“Will he? You said yourself he’s a stubborn man.”
“I exaggerated. He can be won over if you put your mind to it.”
“I don’t have time to put my mind to it. This place is taking up every waking second. When you start a project, you set a grueling schedule.”
“I’m old. I don’t have time to spare,” Delia retorted. “Now, stop worrying about Kevin. He’ll come around. In the meantime, we have to decide on the wallpaper.”
There were enough samples to paper a dozen houses, with some left over for the entire city of Richmond.
“Where’d you get all of this?” Gracie asked, daunted by the task.
“I put Abby on it. She made a few calls.”
Gracie glanced up as the girl came in from the kitchen where she’d had her head poked under the sink so she could see exactly how the plumber was repairing the pipes. There were smudges of dirt on her face and her pigtails were askew, but she looked ecstatic. She had turned up the first day of the renovations and every day since. Since no one else seemed to object to her presence, including Kevin, Gracie had welcomed her help. Still, she worried that this wasn’t the best place for Abby to be spending her time.
“Abby, are you sure this is how you want to spend your
