sorry.”
“He teases us all the time,” she told me, smiling. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Austin.” She held her hand out and when we shook, I noticed that she had a fairly firm grip.
“Did James fill you in on our house rules?” she asked.
“No booze, no dope, no loud music, and no hanky-panky,” I recited. “I understand that you’ve got some renovations in mind as well.”
“They’re part of the arrangement, Mr. Austin. I think you’ll find our room and board rate very reasonable, but that’s because Erika and I expect a certain amount of physical labor as well. Our aunt’s going to be in a nursing home from here on out, and my sister and I want to fix the house up so that we can put it on the market and sell it. We’ll try to confine the work to Saturdays so that the rest of the week’s quiet. James deals with electricity and plumbing, and you’d be our resident carpenter. Would that cause you any problems?”
I shrugged. “Probably not. I’m a fairly good knock-around carpenter. As long as we stay clear of the building code, I can probably handle things. I gather you want to avoid building permits and inspections, right?”
“Definitely. If we get into building permits, we come face-to-face with union-scale carpenters, and we don’t have that kind of money.”
“We could always take up begging, Trish,” the auburn-haired girl suggested. “Sell pencils on street corners with a little tin cup.”
“My sister Erika,” Trish said sourly. “She’s the smart-mouth in the family.”
“How can you say that, Trish?” Erika asked with wide-eyed innocence.
“As long as we’re introducing ourselves,” the small, cute brunette at the table said, “I’m Sylvia Cardinale.”
“We refer to her as the Godmother, Donna Sylvia,” James told me, grinning at her.
“Would you like to have me make you one of those offers which you can’t refuse, James?” she asked in an ominous tone.
“Oops,” he replied casually.
“We’re obviously clowning around, Mr. Austin,” Trish apologized. “We’ll get around to being serious after classes start—at least I
hope
so. Would you like to look at the vacant rooms?”
“James showed them to me yesterday,” I replied. “I’d like to have another look at the one on the right side of the stairs, though. I’ve got an idea that we might want to talk about.”
“Of course,” she said, and led us all upstairs. A battered bed stood against the wall I was interested in, so I pushed it out of the way and pulled out the tape measure I’d brought. “I think this might actually work,” I muttered, half to myself.
“What have you got in mind, Mr. Austin?” Trish asked.
“Permanent bookshelves,” I told her, thumping the heel of my hand against the wall in search of the studs. “Fourteen inches,” I mused. “This baby’s well built.” Then I turned. “Here’s the idea,” I told the group. “Most students use the standard brick-and-board arrangement for bookshelves, but that’s wobbly, and occasionally the whole makeshift thing collapses. It occurred to me that permanent bookshelves wouldn’t wobble, and they’d provide a lot more shelf space. I need
lots
of shelf space, because I’ve got books by the yard.”
“Won’t that be sort of expensive?” Trish asked me.
“Not really,” I told her. “Unless you start getting into exotic woods, lumber’s fairly cheap around here. Oh, one other thing. James tells me that there are some empty rooms in the basement. If it’s okay, I’d like to put this furniture downstairs and bring in my own.”
“You have your own furniture?” Erika asked. “That’s unusual. Most students travel light.”
“I’ve got a house up in Everett,” I told her briefly, not really wanting to go into too much detail. “I’ll be renting it out, I guess, so I’ll have to put most of the furniture in storage.”
Trish looked around at the room. “If we’re going to empty the room out
“He teases us all the time,” she told me, smiling. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Austin.” She held her hand out and when we shook, I noticed that she had a fairly firm grip.
“Did James fill you in on our house rules?” she asked.
“No booze, no dope, no loud music, and no hanky-panky,” I recited. “I understand that you’ve got some renovations in mind as well.”
“They’re part of the arrangement, Mr. Austin. I think you’ll find our room and board rate very reasonable, but that’s because Erika and I expect a certain amount of physical labor as well. Our aunt’s going to be in a nursing home from here on out, and my sister and I want to fix the house up so that we can put it on the market and sell it. We’ll try to confine the work to Saturdays so that the rest of the week’s quiet. James deals with electricity and plumbing, and you’d be our resident carpenter. Would that cause you any problems?”
I shrugged. “Probably not. I’m a fairly good knock-around carpenter. As long as we stay clear of the building code, I can probably handle things. I gather you want to avoid building permits and inspections, right?”
“Definitely. If we get into building permits, we come face-to-face with union-scale carpenters, and we don’t have that kind of money.”
“We could always take up begging, Trish,” the auburn-haired girl suggested. “Sell pencils on street corners with a little tin cup.”
“My sister Erika,” Trish said sourly. “She’s the smart-mouth in the family.”
“How can you say that, Trish?” Erika asked with wide-eyed innocence.
“As long as we’re introducing ourselves,” the small, cute brunette at the table said, “I’m Sylvia Cardinale.”
“We refer to her as the Godmother, Donna Sylvia,” James told me, grinning at her.
“Would you like to have me make you one of those offers which you can’t refuse, James?” she asked in an ominous tone.
“Oops,” he replied casually.
“We’re obviously clowning around, Mr. Austin,” Trish apologized. “We’ll get around to being serious after classes start—at least I
hope
so. Would you like to look at the vacant rooms?”
“James showed them to me yesterday,” I replied. “I’d like to have another look at the one on the right side of the stairs, though. I’ve got an idea that we might want to talk about.”
“Of course,” she said, and led us all upstairs. A battered bed stood against the wall I was interested in, so I pushed it out of the way and pulled out the tape measure I’d brought. “I think this might actually work,” I muttered, half to myself.
“What have you got in mind, Mr. Austin?” Trish asked.
“Permanent bookshelves,” I told her, thumping the heel of my hand against the wall in search of the studs. “Fourteen inches,” I mused. “This baby’s well built.” Then I turned. “Here’s the idea,” I told the group. “Most students use the standard brick-and-board arrangement for bookshelves, but that’s wobbly, and occasionally the whole makeshift thing collapses. It occurred to me that permanent bookshelves wouldn’t wobble, and they’d provide a lot more shelf space. I need
lots
of shelf space, because I’ve got books by the yard.”
“Won’t that be sort of expensive?” Trish asked me.
“Not really,” I told her. “Unless you start getting into exotic woods, lumber’s fairly cheap around here. Oh, one other thing. James tells me that there are some empty rooms in the basement. If it’s okay, I’d like to put this furniture downstairs and bring in my own.”
“You have your own furniture?” Erika asked. “That’s unusual. Most students travel light.”
“I’ve got a house up in Everett,” I told her briefly, not really wanting to go into too much detail. “I’ll be renting it out, I guess, so I’ll have to put most of the furniture in storage.”
Trish looked around at the room. “If we’re going to empty the room out
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