I suggested that perhaps not only could the swinging door be removed, but the entire wall between the two rooms could be removed, letting in more light and creating a more versatile space.

I watch HGTV; I knew what I was talking about.

What I had never watched was Survivor, and therefore I knew nothing of an alliance. But I saw one hatched right in front of my eyes. Clark and Caroline bonded, united in their determination to save the swinging door and to never, I repeat never, allow the idea of knocking a wall down at Seaside Cottage to be spoken of again.

That last part? With the never allow, and all that? Go ahead and reread that, channeling Charlton Heston and the best Moses he could muster.

I was outmanned, outgunned, and out-Moses’d.

My backup was firmly in the librarian’s camp, who was now leading Caroline up the staircase to the site of the Battle of the Balustrade.

“Oh, no you don’t, you’re not talking her into saving this rickety old bannister,” I started, dashing up in front of them and standing firmly in front of Clark.

He ignored me, turning to Caroline. “This was handcrafted by Jeremiah Woodstove, and it’s one of the only remaining few in this style,” he told Caroline, who ooohed and aaahed.

I smacked the damned bannister with my hand and the whole thing wobbled. “It’s falling apart. It’s rickety, it’s unsafe, and it gave me a splinter the other day! See?” I shoved my hand under Clark’s nose, and his eyes grew big. Perhaps because last time I was so close to his face, I’d drawn blood.

“I hardly think that a splinter is a reason to tear down the entire balustrade.” He looked at my hand. “But I am sorry about your splinter.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I mumbled. “And I didn’t say I wanted to tear the whole thing down. Just the wobbly parts.”

I stared up at him, noticing for the first time how very tall he was. Sure, part of it was because he was on the step above me, but he was also just a tall man. A tall man with a busted nose. “And I’m sorry about your nose, in case I forgot to tell you,” I whispered.

“You did,” he whispered back, with a tiny smile. “Forget to tell me.”

“Well, I’m telling you,” I said, noticing that Mimi was perched at the top of the stairs peering over the railing like a mouse. And Caroline had backed away and was at the bottom of the stairs looking up.

Smiling.

Ugh.

“Mimi, I’m going to take a few minutes to get my notes together. Why don’t you come on down and help me,” Caroline said, and Mimi danced down the stairs.

As she passed me, she said, “I redid your linen closet and the hall closet, and your aunt’s clothes you’d piled up are now in boxes by color and season. You’re welcome.”

They disappeared around the corner, and I looked back up at Clark. “Did you know my aunt very well?”

“Somewhat. I helped her get a grant a few years ago, which she used to fix some things around here. But she kind of withdrew in recent years.” He gestured to some of the clutter I still hadn’t dealt with. “I didn’t know about all this. It wasn’t this bad the last time I was here.”

“Sounds like no one knew it was this bad. I hadn’t been here since I was a kid, and it definitely didn’t look like this back then.”

“Were you close?” he asked.

“Me and Aunt Maude? No, I hadn’t spoken to her in years,” I answered, starting down the steps.

He followed me. “Strange, isn’t it?”

“Strange?”

“That she left the house to someone she barely knew. I mean no offense, of course.”

“No, it is strange. My family and I have been trying to understand it ever since I got the call from Mr. Montgomery. The best I can figure is she knew I loved this house and was probably the least likely to sell it out of everyone in my family.”

“And no jealous brothers or sisters that wanted a house like this?” he asked.

This was the first real conversation we’d ever had.

“No sisters. Five older brothers, though. And none of them wanted it. Well, a couple of them were a little peeved that they didn’t get the chance to sell it off and pocket the cash, let’s say that. I think that—hey, where’d you go?” I looked behind me.

Clark was still at the bottom of the staircase. “You’ve got five older brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“And they’re all back in Philadelphia?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“No reason,” he said, hurrying to my side and pushing the swinging door open. “After you.”

I ducked under his arm, and looked up at his face. “You okay, Clark? You seem a little pale.”

“Must be the nose,” he said, and followed me into the kitchen.

“So those are my recommendations for now, Viv, based on the limited amount of time I’ve been here. I think most of what you want to do to make it more comfortable to live here can be accomplished without making any significant changes to the house itself.” Caroline sat at the kitchen table that afternoon with her notepad open, referring to it here and there as she laid out an initial plan for a renovation.

Clark and I had listened intently, only interrupting a few times.

“As for you, Clark, I know how you feel about this house, and for the most part I agree with you in terms of the aesthetic of leaving these old homes intact. However, my girl Viv needs to actually live here, not be a caretaker in a museum, so you’re going to have to be flexible, okay?” she said, pointing a finger at him.