Anything that had been sitting on the floor was definitely ruined. Table legs were swollen, the sofa skirt had soaked up the water and carried it right up to the cushions. The same thing had happened with the dust ruffle on her bed and her mother’s. Both mattresses and box springs had big brown spots on them from the dirty water. The adjustor that had come out on Saturday said there was no use in trying to salvage any of the furniture and had written up a report that said everything in the house was ruined.
“What do I do?” she whispered as she walked through the house and barely kept the tears at bay. “Do I tear this place down and rebuild right here on the same lot? Do I sell it and build somewhere else with more room for a proper vet clinic?”
“Hello! Anybody home?” a strong male voice yelled from the open front door.
Stevie whipped around. Bobby Blalock was a tall, lanky man with a crop of dark hair that was dusted with a sprinkling of gray around the temples, and big brown eyes that looked even larger behind thick glasses.
“I’m Bobby Blalock.” He stuck out his hand. “We talked on the phone yesterday.”
“Stevie O’Dell.” She shook with him. “I’m glad you wore rubber boots. It’s still a mess in here.”
“Yep, I can see that. My son, Tilman, is under the house right now checking the foundation. Is it okay if I pull up some of this carpet, and maybe knock a hole or two in the drywall?” he asked.
“Do whatever you need to do,” Stevie said with a grimace.
“I’ll bring in my tools then,” he said.
Stevie had expected that the carpet would have to be taken out, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch Bobby pile the soggy furniture to one side. He rolled the wet carpet to the middle of the room and slowly shook his head.
“Where are you, Tilman?” he yelled.
“Right here, Dad.” A guy who looked like a younger version of Bobby, only his coveralls were muddy, entered through the front door. “Go ahead with whatever you need to do up here, but it sure doesn’t look good under this place. Of course, it’s muddy, but, Miz O’Dell, you’ve got a bad case of termites under there, as well as black mold.”
Bobby drew back a claw hammer and knocked a hole in the wet part of the Sheetrock. Chunks of it crumbled like chalk, and more disintegrated as he pulled half a sheet free. He shook his head in disappointment and pointed to the studs. “I was trying to give you a little bit of hope, but I’m sorry, Stevie. See the Swiss cheese look in these studs? If this house was a person, I would tell you that it has bone cancer. This is dry rot.” He pointed to part of the two studs, and then to the wet part below that. “And that is black mold.”
Stevie looked at the mess and wondered if that had caused her mother’s cancer to start or to be worse. She knew the house had to come down, but knowing did not lessen the disappointment one bit.
“I remember when you were a little girl riding your bicycle up and down this road with your red ponytail swinging back and forth,” Bobby said. “I knew your daddy and your mama very well. Your dad and my mama worked together at the bank. I don’t like to have to tell you this, Stevie, but this house is not worth saving. You should have it torn down and have the ground treated to get rid of the termites. Then you can either rebuild right here or sell the lot, and that’s my honest opinion on just what I’ve seen here.”
“I was afraid that’s what you would say.” She sighed. “Thinking about doing that isn’t easy, though.”
“No, ma’am, I’m sure it’s not. I’d hate to have to make that decision, but you could always build a new house on the same floor plan as this one since this is your childhood home,” he said. “I can check the other rooms if you want me to.”
“No need. What do I owe you for this?” she asked.
“Not a thing, but I will write up something for you to give to the insurance company,” Bobby said. “If and when you decide to tear it down, Tilman and I have the equipment to take care of that for you.”
“Thank you,” Stevie said with a heavy heart.
Both men left her standing in the middle of a spongy floor and went out to their truck. In a few minutes Bobby came back with a signed estimate form, and said, “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I can’t imagine having to tear down my folks’ place, but if it looked like this, I wouldn’t hesitate to do just that.”
“I appreciate your honesty,” Stevie said.
“Can’t be anything but that. My mama would take a switch to me if I was dishonest, even if I am over forty.” Bobby smiled. “Just let me know if you need me to take it down.”
“I sure will.” Stevie waited until he was gone to let the tears flow down her cheeks. “Damn it!” She wiped at them and stomped her foot so hard that it went through the floor and set her firmly down on her butt. She jerked her leg back up through the hole and groaned when she realized that her jeans were not only wet but torn, and that they were a pair that Mia had loaned to her. The cold air hit her butt when she stood up. She had not only poked her leg through the floor, and most likely tore Mia’s jeans on a nail, but she had also sat down on the soaked carpet.
“Damn it!” she said again and then noticed that it wasn’t water running down her leg but blood from a gash, and Mia’s rubber boot was catching it. She went to the bathroom and wrapped one towel around the wound and took a second one with her out to her vehicle. When she got inside, she put the extra towel on the seat to sit on, got in, and called Cody before she even started the engine.
“Where are you and Addy?” she asked.
“At the ranch,” he said. “We finished earlier than we thought. Want me to come to the house? What did Bobby say?”
“We’ll talk about that later,” Stevie said. “I fell through the floor, and I think I tore my leg on a nail. I didn’t check to see if it was rusty or not, but I’m on my way home. Can you meet me at the bunkhouse? It might need stitches, and I know I’ll need a tetanus shot.”
“Are you sure you can drive? Do you need me and Addy to come get you?” Cody sounded genuinely worried.
“I can make it home. I’ve got it wrapped in a towel to keep from getting blood on Mama’s car seat. See you in ten minutes or so,” she told him.
By the time she reached the bunkhouse, blood was seeping through the towel, but by keeping her leg turned just right, she avoided getting any on the seat. She opened the door and got out carefully, then limped toward the porch. Cody and Addy must have heard the car’s engine because they rushed out and helped her the rest of the way into the bunkhouse and onto a kitchen chair.
Cody already had his tools laid out on the table and dropped down on his knees in front of her to remove the towel. “Good grief, you really did a number on this. Addy, we’ll need to cut her jeans off her, and this boot is ruined.”
“These are Mia’s rubber boots…” Stevie said.
“And they’re the least of your worries. We buy these things by the dozens,” Addy said as she began to cut the jeans away. We’ve got to clean it out first, and then it’s going to need stitches. My guess is at least ten.”
“Fifteen or more if we want to keep them close enough together that she doesn’t have a bad scar,” Cody said. “These first shots are going to sting a little.”