"Can you trust him? His father is driven. The mayor approves his vision for this town, and I don't believe they are completely above board in the dealings there," Elanor said as she helped Angelique pry the broken dried out wood off the hall wall.

Marin was working his way down the stairwell, checking risers and newel posts as he went while she copied the curves of the paneling onto tracing paper. The pattern was intricate.

"I was thinking," he called down from the second floor, "we should change the stain on all this wood. Go for the light oak instead of the dark stain. It would lift the mood of the entire house."

"Good idea. Just a light oil finish and let the grain of the wood speak for itself," Angelique responded.

"I'll order the proper supplies then," Elanor said. "But back to Justin."

"He did bring me a significant peace offering, and I love dancing with him. He's quick on his banter too. Don't know if I can trust him all the way though. He's still the purchasing agent for his father. Did you get all the parts the plumber and H-vac guys need?"

"Coming in next week. You'll need to make a trip to the salvage yard on the weekend. Those sinks still need to be dealt with."

Angelique nodded. "And I need to get the molding cutters made so we can match this." She pointed up to the ceilings and ran a finger over the intricate work defining the panels running along the side of the staircase.

"You're almost done with the demolition here. I'll order the white oak you need, and you can set up your miter and table saws in the east parlor for now," Elanor said. "The new kitchen cabinets need to be chosen as well as the tiles. We'll use the same in all the bathrooms including the powder room we're adding down here."

"God we're under pressure here. I hate working with a hard deadline like this. There's never enough time to get things done. Easier with clients who get that it takes time sometimes." She stopped to mop her forehead with a rag she kept tucked in her belt. "It's been a month already. At least the landscaping is going well."

"We got lucky. The cobblestone is in great shape. The pictures you found in that old magazine helped confirm the flowerbeds and tree placement are correct for at least the last hundred years." Elanor flipped to the appropriate page in her stack of paperwork.

"Have you heard back from the paint lab?"

"They'll have the colors for you in a couple of days. We can decide on the palette after that. It will influence what we use in here. What about wallpaper?"

"Let Will deal with it. He knows Victorian interiors better than anyone else. He's aced the last two we did."

A soft smile lit Elanor's face as she nodded. "Of course. I'll let him know to start thinking about the finishes. Are we using granite in the kitchen?"

"I'd prefer quartz composite. Easier to maintain for busy homeowners. We can use soapstone accents on the island though. Are things getting serious between you and Will?"

"I think so. It's been a long slow burn, but he's been so steady and sweet about it. Never thought I'd let a guy in like this." Elanor started gathering the broken wood scraps after leaving her clipboard on her improvised office table in the west parlor.

"We're peas in a pod that way. Watching Mom go through guys like she did, and the fact she still refuses to tell me who my father is, just makes me really cautious about getting into a relationship."

Angelique helped Marin and Elanor clear the last of the scrap. The stairs were in great shape, but there were parts of the railings that needed replacement. Good thing she had a mobile woodshop in the trailer.

"I'm headed over to the church. Got a message from Father Rafiel." She waved her phone at Elanor.

"I hope he has some answers for you," her friend said.

"Me too."

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Father Rafiel greeted Angelique at the door and led her through a hidden side passage to his office.

"There's an entrance from outside over there, but I doubt you know about it. The last time we saw you here regularly was around your first communion."

She nodded. "That was a lifetime ago, or at least it seems that way. I'm twenty-six now."

"And doing very well for yourself, or so the congregation assures me."

Father Rafiel's sly expression made her laugh.

"The joys of a small town. I'm sure anyone who's interested knows what I'm paying for my construction supplies and what I eat for breakfast. I was so happy when I was able to rent an Air BnB for the next three months."

The elderly priest smiled and said, "To the point of why I messaged you, I found the records. The adoption was legally registered with the state of Illinois in 1964. Madeline gave up her daughter when she was six months old. She named her Chantal. The couple who adopted her kept the name. I believe they still live in Old Mines."

Angelique let out a long slow breath before she responded. "Will they be opposed to me contacting them?"

"I have no idea. I only have the address they gave me at the time of the adoption. You will have to do the research to discover if they are still in the same home or not. They would be older than your grandmother was by twenty or more years. I would suggest not wasting any time contacting them."

He pushed a printed page across his desk toward her.

Angelique studied the typewritten information before she replied.

"Old Mines. I have to make a trip there in any case. There's a salvage yard there. I'm looking for sinks to match the cast-iron claw-foot tubs I have in the bathrooms. I'll see if I can find an address and a phone number for them, Father."

"I wish you luck. Madeline was heartbroken, and it took quite some time before Jean-Paul convinced her to take a chance on him."

"I know. I read her journal, which is how I found out about her daughter. She never wrote her name in there, but I could see the pain and the shame. Her parents weren't very kind."

"They forced the issue, and since she was only fifteen, they had every right to do so. Her sweetheart was deployed to Vietnam before he ever knew she was pregnant and he never returned. Whether he was MIA or killed in action we never found out. I did try, for her sake. She wanted his parents to know they had a grandchild, but he never had a chance to take Madeline to meet them."

The priest tapped his fountain pen on the desk as he spoke.

"I'll try to find his family for her."

"I have his military information on the page there for you as well. It's going to be a difficult undertaking. If you need to talk, you are welcome here whenever you require an ear to listen."

The priest's eyes were sympathetic.

"You are exactly as I remember you as a child. I may be back. Would you like me to inform you of what I discover?" Angelique asked.

"It would close the file for me, so I would be grateful."

She rose and said, "Thank you, Father."

"I'm sure Madeline would be happy to have you find your aunt."

"I'd like to think so too."

A/N The prompt appears in paragraph 10 of the first scene.