as your primary residence and operate a bed-and-breakfast with the extra bedrooms?”
“That’s the plan,” she said. “May I offer you something to drink? A cup of coffee or tea?”
“Nope.” He scribbled away with his pen. “I’m finishing up.”
She crossed her fingers. “Everything checked out all right, I hope?”
“Pretty much,” he said. Her spirits soared.
Then he added, “With one notable exception.”
“Oh dear. That sounds ominous.”
“There’s good news and bad news.” The inspector clicked his pen with finality. “I’ll talk you through it. The good news is the plumbing looks okay, the roof’s fairly new, and the smoke alarms are functional. I checked the basement and the attic for asbestos, and you’re all clear.”
Brooke nibbled the inside of her cheek. “And the bad news?”
“Well, you got a few minor issues to address: The backporch has a loose board, the toilet tank in the downstairs bathroom has a hairline crack and it’s leaking water, and you need to modify at least one of the ground-floor bedrooms to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act.”
“Of course, that makes sense.” She paused. “What does that entail, exactly?”
“Well, the room needs to be wheelchair accessible, so you’ll have to widen the doorway, install grab bars in the shower, make sure there’s knee clearance under the sink, maybe add a ramp to one of the porches …”
“Sounds doable.” She started to relax. “Expensive, but doable.”
“Yeah, I think you can even get a tax credit for that type of remodeling.” He thumped his thumb against the clipboard. “Now here comes the bad news.”
His tone was decidedly worrisome.
“Shall I rustle up some tissues and bourbon before you break it to me?” Brooke asked. “Because you seem a little—”
“Ma’am, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it: You’ve got knob-and-tube wiring.”
She blinked. “I’ve got what?”
“Knob-and-tube wiring. Through the whole house.”
“I don’t exactly know what that is.”
“I’ll tell you what it is: a house fire waiting to happen. Your whole electrical system’s outdated and potentially dangerous. Probably installed back in the 1930s or so. At least. No way can we insure this place. Especially if you’re planning to have boarders.”
“But I just closed escrow! No one said anything about ‘outdated and potentially dangerous’ during the home sale inspection. They said the electrical stuff looked fine!”
The inspector rubbed his chin. “Follow me.” He led herdown to the basement, where he pointed out the electrical service box tucked back by the laundry room. “Here’s the problem. The fuse box and the meter box look like they were upgraded in the 1960s or ’70s. Whoever upgraded them also put in a new breaker box and spliced a few yards of Romex wiring to the old knob-and-tube wiring. Then they put up paneling over the studs in the basement and the first-floor joints, so you can’t see the knob-and-tube system unless you know what to look for.”
Brooke tried to appear as if she was following this explanation, but she hadn’t comprehended a syllable after the words “breaker box.”
“I see.” Her mouth went dry. “And how much do you think replacing the wiring might cost?”
“A lot.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Well, it’s a pretty big house, so your material costs are gonna add up, plus you’ll need to pay by the hour for a contractor or two.”
She steeled herself.
He adjusted the brim of his cap and threw out a dollar amount.
“
How
much?” She stumbled back against the cold concrete wall.
“It’s just a ballpark figure,” he said defensively.
“That’s more than my down payment!” she cried. “This is outrageous. I will—I will
sue
!”
The inspector squinted one eye. “Who you planning to sue?”
“The college. The realtor. The home inspector. Somebody!”
“The home
“That’s the plan,” she said. “May I offer you something to drink? A cup of coffee or tea?”
“Nope.” He scribbled away with his pen. “I’m finishing up.”
She crossed her fingers. “Everything checked out all right, I hope?”
“Pretty much,” he said. Her spirits soared.
Then he added, “With one notable exception.”
“Oh dear. That sounds ominous.”
“There’s good news and bad news.” The inspector clicked his pen with finality. “I’ll talk you through it. The good news is the plumbing looks okay, the roof’s fairly new, and the smoke alarms are functional. I checked the basement and the attic for asbestos, and you’re all clear.”
Brooke nibbled the inside of her cheek. “And the bad news?”
“Well, you got a few minor issues to address: The backporch has a loose board, the toilet tank in the downstairs bathroom has a hairline crack and it’s leaking water, and you need to modify at least one of the ground-floor bedrooms to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act.”
“Of course, that makes sense.” She paused. “What does that entail, exactly?”
“Well, the room needs to be wheelchair accessible, so you’ll have to widen the doorway, install grab bars in the shower, make sure there’s knee clearance under the sink, maybe add a ramp to one of the porches …”
“Sounds doable.” She started to relax. “Expensive, but doable.”
“Yeah, I think you can even get a tax credit for that type of remodeling.” He thumped his thumb against the clipboard. “Now here comes the bad news.”
His tone was decidedly worrisome.
“Shall I rustle up some tissues and bourbon before you break it to me?” Brooke asked. “Because you seem a little—”
“Ma’am, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come right out with it: You’ve got knob-and-tube wiring.”
She blinked. “I’ve got what?”
“Knob-and-tube wiring. Through the whole house.”
“I don’t exactly know what that is.”
“I’ll tell you what it is: a house fire waiting to happen. Your whole electrical system’s outdated and potentially dangerous. Probably installed back in the 1930s or so. At least. No way can we insure this place. Especially if you’re planning to have boarders.”
“But I just closed escrow! No one said anything about ‘outdated and potentially dangerous’ during the home sale inspection. They said the electrical stuff looked fine!”
The inspector rubbed his chin. “Follow me.” He led herdown to the basement, where he pointed out the electrical service box tucked back by the laundry room. “Here’s the problem. The fuse box and the meter box look like they were upgraded in the 1960s or ’70s. Whoever upgraded them also put in a new breaker box and spliced a few yards of Romex wiring to the old knob-and-tube wiring. Then they put up paneling over the studs in the basement and the first-floor joints, so you can’t see the knob-and-tube system unless you know what to look for.”
Brooke tried to appear as if she was following this explanation, but she hadn’t comprehended a syllable after the words “breaker box.”
“I see.” Her mouth went dry. “And how much do you think replacing the wiring might cost?”
“A lot.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Well, it’s a pretty big house, so your material costs are gonna add up, plus you’ll need to pay by the hour for a contractor or two.”
She steeled herself.
He adjusted the brim of his cap and threw out a dollar amount.
“
How
much?” She stumbled back against the cold concrete wall.
“It’s just a ballpark figure,” he said defensively.
“That’s more than my down payment!” she cried. “This is outrageous. I will—I will
sue
!”
The inspector squinted one eye. “Who you planning to sue?”
“The college. The realtor. The home inspector. Somebody!”
“The home
Similar Books
