Page 178 of Clinically Bewitched
Not destructive chaos. Not dangerous chaos.
But chaos nonetheless.
The kitchen was half-demolished, which was according to plan. What was not according to plan was Athena sitting on the couch, laughing, while Clint told her a story about a previous renovation that had apparently involved a family of raccoons living in the walls.
“And then,” Clint was saying, “the mother raccoon just looked at me like, ‘This is MY house now.’”
Athena was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Clint’s telling me about the raccoon house,” she said, still giggling.
“Shouldn’t he be working?”
“I’m on break,” Clint said, checking his watch. “Fifteen minutes. We’re right on schedule.”
I looked around. The demolition was, in fact, progressing exactly as planned.
Fine. They’re on schedule.
That’s what matters.
“Julien!” Bo called from the kitchen. “Can you come look at something?”
I walked over to find him standing by the wall where we’d planned to install new cabinets, his expression thoughtful.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. But I think we should move the cabinet placement slightly. See this beam?” He pointed to a support beam I’d somehow missed in my planning. “If we shift everything six inches to the right, we’ll have better structural support and more storage space.”
I studied the wall. He was right.
Again.
“That’s... a good idea,” I admitted.
“Yeah?” He smiled. “Great. I’ll update the plans.”
“I’ll update the plans,” I corrected. “I have a system.”
“Of course you do.”
By the time I left at six PM, the demolition was complete, the debris was cleared, and the contractors were cleaning up with an efficiency that would have impressed a military unit.
“See you tomorrow, Dr. Darcy,” Mason said as I headed for the door.
“Seven AM,” I confirmed.
“We’ll be here.”
And they were.
Every day.
Exactly on time.
Working efficiently, professionally, and most annoyingly—charmingly.
