Page 16 of Passion and Privilege

He walked closer to the molding around the window. “Look at this,” he said, tracing his fingers over the intricate woodwork. “This is incredible. Is this the same molding?”

I watched him, captivated by how his voice changed as he admired the work. It was clear that his family history held a special place in his heart.

“It is,” I said, nodding. “It just needed some very minor repairs. I sanded it and stained it.”

“This is why I hired you,” he said, turning to face me again. His eyes were softer now. “You have a knack for preserving the original beauty of things without losing their character.”

His words sent a pleasant jolt through me. The recognition, the praise from him? It filled me with a sense of achievement I hadn’t felt in a long while.

“I’m glad you’re happy with it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I felt a strange tightness in my chest.

Timothy walked over to the massive bed we had decided to keep. It was an antique four-poster bed that looked like something out of a period drama. He ran his fingers over the polished wood, a nostalgic smile on his face. “You restored this as well.”

“I thought it was too beautiful to move to a room that won’t be used. Obviously, that’s not my choice, but if you choose to keep it for your daughter’s bed, it’s ready.”

“I like it,” he said, nodding. “You’ve done well.”

“Have you had a chance to see the lower floor?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

“The crew have been focused on the kitchen,” I told him. “I assumed a functional kitchen was a must with a kid in the house. They’re making good time with the modernization in there.”

“Good,” he said, nodding.

“I found a skilled stone mason to start the repairs on the stonework, both inside and outside,” I told him. “He’s an expert in the old ways. He should be able to keep the original character but make it safe and structurally sound.”

“I trust your judgment,” he said. “You have a good eye for these kinds of things.”

I felt my cheeks heat up once again at his praise. His confidence in my skills was heartening. I took a deep breath and looked at him, feeling like we were on the same page for this project more than ever before.

“I’ll show you the kitchen then?” I asked.

As we walked down the hall, he pointed to more of the crown molding. “What about all of this?”

“I will personally be handling all of that,” I told him. “My dad will be helping with that part. He’s very good at what he does. He taught me everything I know.”

“I met your dad,” he said.

“He mentioned that,” I said, smiling.

“Did he train you or did you have to go to a trade school to learn your craft?”

“I’m a journeyman carpenter,” I told him. “My dad taught me, but I’ve also got the official certificates and all of that. That’s only so I can be licensed and bonded under the business name.”

“Your dad mentioned you were one of the sons,” he quipped.

I laughed. “My dad didn’t have sons. So, I’m the son in Jacobson and Sons now.”

His laughter echoed through the hall, his gaze softening as he looked at me. “Your dad must be proud of you,” he said.

“I hope so,” I replied.

“He seemed surprised you bid for this job and got it,” he said.

I smiled. “Yeah, when I first broached the topic, he was against it. He thought it was too big, but I knew we could handle it. And I know we’re the best for the job. I’m not just saying that. We are the best. My dad is an expert at restoring old wood.”

“I believe it,” he said, nodding.