Family Ties

It was a more ambitious project than the first one, which had only been a four-apartment conversion. The second house was originally built in the 1930s as a boarding house. It was a little out of place with its Victorian neighbors, looks-wise, and it didn’t have the charm and craftsmanship. Still, it was a great location for student apartments.

The plans would gut the house to the studs and rebuild completely. The first floor would have four small one-bedroom apartments, while the second was designed with four efficiency apartments, each with a bathroom and kitchenette.

In addition, every apartment would have its own entrance, which meant adding a rear balcony and exterior stairs for the second-floor efficiencies.

While Trip and Sayuri pored over the budget and construction schedule, I leafed through the drawings. They included the original house plans as well as the new designs. The renovation was ingenious, and I got a surprise when I looked at the architect’s stamp and signature.

“He” was a she, and I made a mental note to remember her and the company she worked for.

I’d eventually have to find an internship, and I wanted to work with this woman, especially if her mind was anything like her designs.

We toured the house itself after we went over the plans, but it was early in the schedule and the crew hadn’t done much more than demolition. The house had good bones—things like hardwood studs that actually measured two inches by four—but it would take a lot of work to realize the architect’s vision.

Trip and I promised Sayuri we’d keep an eye on it through the holidays and into the new year.

I received a call from my mom a few days later. It didn’t last long, and I was still holding my notepad when Christy stuck her head through the open door.

“Hey. Who was on the phone?”

“Who was on the phone?”

“Oh, sorry. My mom.”

“Is everything okay?” She stepped into the room.

“Yeah, sure,” I answered immediately. “I mean… no, not really.”

“Is she okay? Your dad? Erin?”

“They’re fine,” I assured her.

“A… friend of the family. He… died.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry. Who was it?”

I took a deep breath and blinked to clear my eyes. I sank to my bed, and Christy sat next to me. I showed her the notepad and she read the name.

“Gunny? Was he a Marine?”

“Yeah. Friend of my father’s. My mom said it was a heart attack.”

“I’m so sorry, Paul. When’s the funeral?” She read from the pad again.

“What do we need to do?”

I shook my head to clear my thoughts.