Page 10 of In This Moment

Rebecca chewed the inside of her cheek and held her breath. Without approval for the addition, a good chunk of their plans would have to get refocused. They’d intended to put in tables with chairs on one side toward the front of the new wing, a casual sitting area with couches in back, and a kids’ area in the remaining portion. They didn’t have the funds for that part of the project, but Scarlett was going to front the money and just have the wing dedicated in the Taylor family name. She could afford it. She came from old money and her event business was booming.

“Sounds like it wouldn’t detract from the original floorplan or architecture.” Forest frowned and rubbed his jaw. “I’ll have to take this to the Society and vote on it.”

Rebecca let out an exhale. That wasn’t an outright no.

“I thought you might say that.” Dorothy smiled. “You can keep that copy for the Society. The backside of the blueprint has what materials we intend to use, right down to flooring, lighting, and wall color.”

He nodded. “That’ll help.”

“I’m sorry. So sorry I’m late, y’all.” Scarlett rushed toward them, red cocktail dress the same shade as her lipstick and heels. She had her sleek cocoa locks in a high ponytail that swung with her frantic baby steps as she maneuvered across the grass. Somehow, she made even that seem elegant. “Betty Lou Jorgensen has done changed her color scheme for her bridal shower this weekend three times in as many days. I swear, between her and her future mother-in-law, they have put me half in the grave. Bless their hearts. What did I miss?”

Forest huffed a laugh.

Dorothy sighed. “We went over the outside plans. I’ll fill you in later.”

“Perfect.” Scarlett grinned, her excitement obvious as she was busting at the seams. She held up a key. “We ready to go in?”

“Yes, ma’am. After you.”

“Now, Forest. Surely, I’m not old enough to be a ma’am.” Head tilted, Scarlett’s eyelashes created a wake.

He scratched the back of his head, expression contrite. “My mistake.”

“Lordy.” Rebecca rolled her eyes and steered Scarlett along the side of the building toward the front. “You know damn well it was ingrained respect, not an insult.” Rebecca lowered her tone. “And why are you flirting with Forest Truman, of all people?” No matter how long ago, Dorothy had a thing for him. Or used to. Perhaps still did. Whatever. Besties didn’t go after forbidden fruit.

Scarlett gasped. “I did not flirt with him.”

Maybe not. She was social and outgoing to a fault. It was hard to tell with her.

Rebecca eyed her as they walked. “If you say so.” She glanced over her shoulder, noting Forest and Dorothy were lagging a few steps behind and chatting amongst themselves. “The parking lot, porch ramp, roof, and siding are a go. He has to have the Society vote on the possible addition.”

A wrinkle of her nose, and Scarlett all but skipped in place. “That’s awesome.”

“Word. Hopefully, the vote will go in our favor. Now, behave yourself.”

“I am always on my best behavior.”

Rebecca let out a sound of disbelief. “You don’t have a best behavior.”

“You love me anyway.” Scarlett made a kissy face and climbed the porch steps, unlocking the library door.

Following her inside, Rebecca glanced around as Dorothy and Forest spread out paperwork on the ivory marble counter in the center of the room, where Mr. Brown used to sit.

It had been eons since Rebecca had seen the place, but fondness squeezed her throat. This wonderful, wonderful building had been their refuge as girls. They’d sit and read, gossip, and make plans for the future. It’s where she’d daydreamed about working for a newspaper, all the stories she’d report. The boys who’d captured and broken their hearts. The library was worse off than she’d recalled, yet they’d fix it. Restore it to its former glory and do right by it. She closed her eyes a brief beat, smiling. Gosh, it smelled the same, though. Aged paper, old wood, and a trace of dust.

Square footage on the main level was roughly twenty-five hundred square feet, and about half that for the second story loft. Wide-open floor plan. A wrought iron set of curved stairs led to the upper area with a matching railing. The top portion of the large stained-glass window could be spotted below. The loft otherwise was empty. Had been for a long time. The ceiling was coffered with copper plating. The floorboards were original cherry. Wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the left, right, and part of the back wall. Empty now, which made her sad. Dorothy said many of the books were in a storage room in back. Mr. and Mrs. Brown had only taken the family volumes with them. Still, there was nothing more heartbreaking than a vacant bookshelf.

There was an errant scent of dust and mildew that stung her sinuses. A testament to time marching on and taking no prisoners. They’d freshen that up, too.

“Alright,” Dorothy said through a sigh. “The floorboards needed refinishing two decades ago. That’s on the docket.” She glanced up. An enormous lead-glass chandelier overhead had cobwebs forming their own cobwebs. “The chandelier is original, and we intend to keep it, just have it cleaned. Same for the copper plating. Plumbing and electrical haven’t been updated since the turn of the twentieth century. Electricians are going to switch the fuse box with a circuit breaker and add more outlets. We also have cable providers coming in to hardwire ethernet cables for internet. Plumbers plan to replace several pipes, plus the bathroom is getting remodeled. We’ll keep the original tile.”

Forest surveyed the papers. “Sounds fine by me.”

“Here’s where things get tricky. To add heat and AC, they’ll have to run ductwork in the crawl space, then cut out spaces in the floor for vents.” Dorothy eyed him, worry creasing her brow.

It would suck if they couldn’t upgrade. The library had never had heating or AC. Rebecca watched him closely as he scanned the blueprints on where vents would go per the contractor.

“Honestly,” he said at length, “I don’t see this being a problem, either. Visitors are going to be more comfortable, and the vent placements aren’t looking like they’ll screw with anything. If I may offer a suggestion? I’d consider old-fashioned vent covers to fit with the period.”

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