"Are you all clear on what we're doing?" Angelique asked.

"Exterior inspection for Marin. You have your roll of tracing paper?" Elanor asked.

"Oui, oui. These shingles were hand made. I can tell the variations are not big, you see, but they are also not identical. I will copy them precisely and replace. You are fortunate this time, madame."

The slender short Creole craftsman was an amazing addition to her team. Elanor found him in a lumberyard arguing with the foreman about the character of shingling. He refused to use the stamping machine. When she discovered his talent transferred to interior work, her own passion was matched, and they worked in tandem like they were born as twins.

"I'll take care of removing the stained glass at the front door. The glazier will pick them up along with the octagon on the first landing of the staircase where it turns to the second floor. He has promised they will be ready in six weeks," she checked it off her list.

Elanor continued the run down, and her thoughts wandered. Once the windows were gone, she had a few hours free. Talking to the priest at Holy Mother Mary church was key. The quick check of the internet she did the night before showed the Catholic Parish handled many of the more scandalous pre-marriage misadventures.

There were ways around their protective silence, and she wondered what repairs and renovations would be necessary at the old structure. There were always some.

Elanor was through the mechanical briefing with the contractors she hired. The electrician and plumber were older men with small companies behind them. The H-Vac guy came recommended by both. Angelique was already sure all of them were good for their word. The questions she asked at the grocery and drugstores proved the point.

No point worrying about finding a tile guy yet. Updating the bathrooms wasn't going to be easy but at least the cast iron claw-foot tubs were in great shape. Finding the matching sinks was another story. She found a salvage yard two towns away. Hopefully that would be a fruitful trip.

By the time she got back this afternoon she should have a list of necessary repairs. The plumber would also inspect the underground lines and deal with the sceptic tank. Nice bonus to have him handling it all.

"Remember your hardhats and safety glasses. I hope you boys have steel-toes in your boots?" Elanor stared down the four general labor handymen and the one girl they hired locally.

Nods came from everyone. Two of them pulled safety glasses out of pockets in their shirts.

"All right then. Let's get going. Find me if you find anything extraordinary. Repairs necessary because of wear and tear, do not count."

The crew scattered. Her handymen went out into the yard under the supervision of the landscape contractor who helped her hire them. Inside of minutes a small skid loader started up, and the horribly overgrown pathways and flower beds began to reappear.

The rumble of the delivery truck caught her attention as a second one appeared. Dumpsters were positioned. One close to the street where the cobblestone driveway came in from the street and the other close to the house. A smaller cube van arrived, and she took the driver and his crew up to the attic.

"I'll get back to you before we leave for the storage unit. If you like you can come with us, so you know where everything is. I remember Miss Madeline's collection before most of it was moved up here. I brought the high boy up myself."

"Then you know exactly the pieces we need to save. Everything on this side." Angelique gestured to the right of the stairway. "Goes with you, Joseph. The trunks of clothing will be picked up by the thrift store in a couple of days."

She knew there were some fantastic vintage pieces in there, but free removal was worth the loss. Practical savings were important and cutting costs was a balancing act. She had to pick the most advantageous route through the mess her grandmother left behind. Why had no one informed her?

With the antiques making their way to safety, she saw her H-vac guy coming up the stairs.

"You're retrofitting air conditioning?" he asked.

"Have to. No way it will sell without it. Make sure it's a big enough system to do the job properly," she answered.

"Good. You get it. The number of times I've been on jobs where the head man goes to cheap is disgusting."

"I've had to correct the problems often enough. So, yes, I get it. You'll have an estimate for me by tomorrow?"

"Yes, ma'am. Do you mind losing the some of your square footage up here to the system?"

"No, we're tucking it away behind access doors after you're finished."

"Sensible. It's going to be a pleasure working with you, Miss Angelique."

"Right back at you. I'll leave you to it. I just uncovered another stained-glass window in the other gable." She turned toward the east end of the attic as she spoke. "I've got to get it out and let my glass guy know I found more for him."

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

After the whirlwind of her morning, Angelique pushed the main doors to the small Catholic church open. The most annoying part came when she parked her three-quarter-ton work truck behind Justin's Harley as he came back from whatever errand he was on.

He stopped with his leg half over his bike and brought it back so he could come to her window.

"Have you applied for historical status for your Victorian?"

"And I got the standard reply. I need paperwork proving its age and a survey of the property before I can fill out the forms. I haven't got the time or money to begin a process that will drag on for months."

Justin pursed his lips before he spoke again.

"I can get you both if you like. Madeline was thinking about it years ago, and I have it filed in my office."

"Yeah, right. Prove it."

She pulled the door handle to get out, pushing Justin out of her way.

"I've got an appointment."

She slammed the truck door with a satisfying bang. Turning to head into the church she heard the distinctive purr of Justin's Harley and smiled. Maybe he wasn't the idiot she thought he was. Perhaps she could tolerate him if he really did have the paperwork she needed.

Now to head in and find Father Rafiel. What a name. Elanor said the town folk liked him. Her foreman was an excellent source of gossip. Her petite blonde beauty and ability to play dumb was a huge asset at the beginning of every new project they took on.

As she knelt and crossed herself, she wondered if he would be willing to open up about Madeline's baby girl. He was the rare priest who remained in the same position from the time he was first ordained until now almost fifty years later. She might not be a practicing Catholic anymore, but her early childhood was guided by her grandmother. Moira was busy building her modeling career. Somehow her mother managed to capitalize on her pregnancy and came out of it more popular than ever, even though she never revealed who the father of her child was.

She never told Angelique either.

Madeline referred to her first daughter as this sweet child of mine. Was there a rift between her and Moira because of it? She didn't think so, but maybe Father Rafiel would know.

A/N: The prompt is in the last paragraph.