Know Me Well (Wishful 3)

Business was open, and, though it wasn’t as usual, it was keeping Riley and his mother plenty busy. They’d managed to set up a narrower floor plan with the displays they had, funneling foot traffic away from the worst of the buckled flooring so that customers could get to the counter without injuring themselves. There’d been plenty of people coming through rubber necking the mess, but Liam knew not all of them were actually buying stuff. And the new Walgreens had opened. If he hadn’t seen the ancient, rusted water heater himself, he’d have had Wishful PD looking into the coincidental timing of the flood in relation to their grand opening. As it was, Riley was winding tighter by the day.

Liam didn’t know how to help her. He’d done everything he could to help things dry faster, and he already had supplies on order down at Edison Hardware so he could dive in with the crew he’d assembled as soon as they were given the all clear. She trusted him to do all that, but she wouldn’t lean on him for anything else. And she sure as hell wasn’t giving him the opportunity for a conversation of a more personal nature. At this point, he didn’t know whether she was avoiding him out of embarrassment or if she’d changed her mind and wished she hadn’t kissed him at all.

The compressor roared to life as he positioned the trim along the edge of one of the newly hung double-paned windows and lifted the nail gun. Kshunk. Kshunk. Kshunk. He ran a hand down the fluted moulding, feeling a sense of satisfaction that he’d managed to find some double-paned windows that maintained the character of the building, without the inefficiencies of the originals.

As the compressor kicked off, he heard footsteps and a female voice calling out, “Liam?”

“Back here.”

A moment later, Norah Burke stuck her head into the room. “You’ve been busy.”

“Making progress anyway. What brings you by? If Mom’s not downstairs, I don’t know where she’s gone off to.”

“I’m here to talk to you, actually.”

“About?”

“How ’bout you give me the fifty-cent tour, and I’ll tell you about it?”

“It’s more like the nickel tour. You’ve already been through most of it just to get back here.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t get commentary on what you’ve done.”

Shrugging, Liam took her through, explaining what had been ripped out, what had been replaced. He answered her questions about the bits of restoration he’d managed in keeping with the history of the century old building, modernizations he’d made without sacrificing the original character of the space, and described the rest of his plans.

“About the only decision I have to make now is whether the cabinet boxes in the kitchen are worth salvaging or if I want to build from scratch.”

Norah’s deep brown eyes lit with interest. “You can do that?”

“Sure.”

“Babette Wofford tells me you’re going to be doing some work for her, too.”

“She seems to have made up her mind about that, and I haven’t even seen her space yet.”

“She likes your work. She’s the one who sent me over here.”

“You ready to tell me what for?”

“I have a Plan.”

Liam laughed. “You always have a plan with a capital P. What’s this one?”

“We’ve made some good strides with the Shop Local campaign and the downtown facelift from back in the spring, as well as working on getting the new website off the ground to promote rural tourism here. Part of that deals with the history of Wishful. We’re lucky that such a significant chunk of downtown remains from the turn of the last century. Most small towns in Mississippi don’t have that. I want to do what we can to preserve what’s left and to restore the things that can be restored. I’m working on a proposal to put before both the Chamber of Commerce and the City Council regarding covenants about the kind of architecture that can be used downtown for future projects, so that the whole thing can retain the charm it’s got, while we work on refreshing everything else. I’d like to be able to recommend you for the job.”

Surprise struck him momentarily silent. Him do long-term historic restoration? When his gut didn’t immediately discount the idea, Liam crossed his arms and studied her. “Why me?”

“You appreciate history. That’s obvious in how you’ve dealt with this place. I think you’ll see and agree with my vision. Plus, I like your work ethic and results. You’re more concerned with doing something right than with doing it the fastest, cheapest way.”

“No sense in doing something if you aren’t going to take the time to do it right.”

“Exactly. The project would be long-term and could be a really good fit for your skillset.”

“You know I’m not a licensed contractor, right?”

“A formality easily dealt with if you want. You don’t have to make a decision right yet. I know you need to finish the work here and at the pharmacy. Just think about it.” She headed for the door. “I’ll get out of your hair so you can finish up. You’ll be late for poker night. I have it on good authority that Mitch is ripe for the fleecing.”

Liam grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.”