Despite Garrett’s legendary fussiness, only twice did he comment. When Jay finished, Garrett fished his wallet out of his back pocket and handed over the ten-thousand-dollar check.

“Normally in a situation like this, I’d say: ‘Don’t spend it all in one place!’” he said. “But in this case, you have no other choice.”

“Yeah,” Jay said. “And now, professor, I’m going to blow this pop stand. I should be able to get my electrician and plumber in here during the next couple of days. And am I correct in assuming that you will be out here ad nauseam, constantly adding in your overly educated two cents?”

Garrett nodded. “You bet. After all, somebody’s got to keep an eye on you and your band of misfits.”

Jay laughed. “How true,” he answered. This time when he glanced around the shabby room, the look on his face sobered.

“A lot of people think you’re nuts for buying this place,” Jay said. “But I want you to know that I’m not among them. Given your expertise, I have absolutely no doubt that once Seaside is finished, she will be spectacular. You’re going to silence all the naysayers, Garrett, you really are.”

“I hope so,” Garrett answered. “And even if this turns out to be a huge mistake, I’ll always be glad that it was you who did the job.”

“Thanks for that,” Jay said. “And now, I’m going home.”

Garrett nodded. “Say ‘hi’ to the wife and kids for me, will you?”

After shaking Garrett’s hand, Jay walked out, got into his pickup, and headed for home.

As the sound of Jay’s truck engine faded in the distance, silence again overtook the house. As usual Garrett was again struck by the unique sort of stillness inherent in this place. At first he had found it to be rather eerie. But now that he was becoming accustomed to it, he could also faintly hear the reassuring sounds of the sea as it continually assaulted the shoreline.

He picked up one of the lanterns and walked about the first floor for a time, ticking off a mental checklist of tasks that would be done once Jay and his crew turned their attention to the inside of the house. He then went to the central foyer and walked up the battered staircase to the second floor, where he did the same thing. He stood in the master bedroom for a time while trying to imagine the many people who had lived and perhaps died in this house—who they had been, what they had done with their lives, and whether the fates had been cruel or kind. The original parcel of land had been some ten acres, and the plot had retained its size throughout Seaside’s many changes of hands. It was then that he got the idea to go up to the roof and inspect the old widow’s walk.

Up there the sea air smelled fresh and clean, and before him lay a marvelous view of the harbor. As Garrett neared the widow’s walk, he smiled a little bit. The wives of sea captains did use these structures to search for their husbands’ ships. But he also knew that widow’s walks were in fact a standard decorative feature of Italianate architecture, which was a very popular style during the height of the whaling boom in North America. Also known as Italian cupolas, in most cases they were merely ornate embellishments, and very prone to leaks.

Sometimes these cupolas were built around the chimney, creating access to it. This allowed the residents of the home to pour sand down burning chimneys during a chimney fire, in the hope of preventing the house from burning down. Although Garrett was a stickler for history, he was also something of a romantic and much preferred the stories about whaling captains’ wives visiting these structures so as to wistfully search for their returning husbands.

When Garrett neared the dilapidated widow’s walk he stopped to examine it. At one time it had surely been lovely.