Chapter 10 #2
“First, we have to determine if this is actually termites,” Logan said, his voice rough. “Or if it’s something else. Because the treatment and timeline will be completely different depending on—”
“I can tell you that.” A young man stepped forward from the back of the group. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and an Italian accent. Holly recognized him as Marco, one of the kitchen dishwashers.
“I was a pest controller in Italy before I moved here,” Marco explained with a shy smile. “My family owns an extermination business in Rome. I used to love bugs when I was a boy. I drove my mother crazy.”
He laughed, and a few people in the group chuckled with him.
“Let me look at the damage,” Marco said, moving into the room. “I can tell you if it’s termites, what kind, how extensive, and what needs to be done.”
He pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, kneeling down to examine the floor damage closely. Everyone watched in silence as Marco inspected the wood, occasionally pressing his fingers against the soft spots or peering into the tunnels with his light.
After a few minutes, he moved to Room Ten and examined the window frames and floor damage there. Then Room Eleven.
Finally, Marco returned to where Holly and Logan waited anxiously.
“Good news and bad news,” Marco said. “The good news is that this is not an active termite infestation.”
Holly felt relief flood through her. “It’s not?”
“No,” Marco confirmed. “Termites leave very specific signs when they’re actively feeding. Like mud tubes, live insects, and fresh frass. I don’t see any of that here. This damage is old. Very old. Probably ten, maybe fifteen years.”
“But the wood is crumbling,” Logan said. “How is that good news?”
“Because it means we don’t have to evacuate the building or fumigate,” Marco explained. “The termites that did this damage are long gone. What you have now is the aftermath, such as weakened wood that was never properly repaired.”
“So we can fix it?” Holly asked hopefully.
“Yes,” Marco nodded. “You’ll need to replace the damaged boards and window frames. It’s not a small job, but it’s doable. And you won’t have to deal with pest control regulations or evacuation orders.”
“What about Room Nine?” Logan asked. “The floor there is much worse.”
“Same situation,” Marco said. “Old damage, not new. Someone probably covered it up years ago with carpet rather than properly repairing it. The window damage in the other rooms is from water intrusion. You know, poor seals let moisture in over time.”
Holly’s mind was racing. “So an inspector who actually looked at these rooms closely would have seen this damage immediately. Would have known it was old, not new?”
“Absolutely,” Marco confirmed. “This kind of deterioration doesn’t happen in a week or a month. Anyone with basic inspection training would spot it.”
Logan and Holly exchanged knowing looks.
“Thank you, Marco,” Holly said sincerely. “You have no idea how helpful this is.”
“Happy to help,” Marco said with a smile. “The Christmas family has been good to me. This is the least I can do.”
Gabe stepped forward, his expression determined. “So what do we need? Materials? Tools? Tell us what to do, and we’ll get it done.”
“I can handle carpentry,” Christopher offered. “I’ve done renovation work before.”
“I can paint,” one of the waitresses said.
“I can help with anything that doesn’t require building skill,” Jane added with a self-deprecating smile. “But cleaning, hauling, and painting, I can do.”
“We can organize supplies,” Trinity said, and Maddy nodded enthusiastically beside her.
Holly looked at the faces of all these people. Some family, some staff, some practically strangers. They were all here. All offering to give up their time to help save the inn. Her throat tightened with emotion.
“We need to make a list,” Logan said, pulling out his phone with renewed energy. “Materials first. Then we’ll divide up the tasks.”
As the group began organizing themselves, making plans, and dividing responsibilities, Holly felt hope kindle in her chest for the first time since they’d discovered the damage.
“Logan, can I have a word?” Holly said quietly, stepping out of the room and heading downstairs with Logan following her.
As they descended the stairs, Holly kept her voice low.
“We need to tell Jack about Marco’s findings.
Even with the eight to ten people up there, we’re not going to get these rooms finished in time.
This requires real carpentry skills, and we’re the only three people who have any experience with that kind of work. ”
Before Logan could respond, a deep voice from the reception desk stopped them as they stepped into the foyer.
“Excuse me, ma’am, are you Holly Bennett?”
Holly looked around to see a group of men she hadn’t seen before. There were at least six of them, all wearing work clothes and carrying tool belts.
“Rupert?” Logan said, his face breaking into a surprised smile. “What on earth are you doing here?”
The man who’d spoken was tall, broad-shouldered, with kind eyes and a weather-worn face, and, for some reason, reminded Holly of a fireman, turned and grinned at Logan. They did a man-hug handshake thing. “My grandmother, Gloria, told me the inn was in urgent need of carpenters.”
“Gloria?” Holly frowned, shaking his hand, then looked at Logan in confusion.
“Rupert is my cousin,” Logan explained. “His grandmother, Gloria Bright, works at William Moore’s shop.”
“Of course she does,” Holly said, unable to stop the smile spreading across her face. You had to love small towns. “Welcome aboard. We already have a few volunteers upstairs. Ask for Marco and he’ll fill you in on what needs to be done.”
“Will do, ma’am,” Rupert said, tipping his baseball cap. He turned to his team. “You heard the lady. Let’s get to work.”
The group of carpenters headed up the stairs, their heavy boots thudding on the old wood, and Holly and Logan stood in the foyer watching them go.
“Well, I guess that solved one of our problems,” Logan added, his voice rough with emotion. “That’s at least six skilled workers, maybe more. With them and our volunteers upstairs, we actually have a chance of getting this done.”
Holly looked around the foyer of the Christmas Inn.
The beautiful old building that had stood for generations, that had weathered storms and hard times and changing fortunes.
She thought about Jack, who was currently in the library, sitting with Charlie, looking at an offer that would take all of this away from his family.
And she thought about this community. “How did Gloria know…”
“Mrs. Hurling and Gloria are good friends,” Logan explained. “She probably called Gloria, who in turn called Rupert.” His smile grew. “At times, this small-town mentality used to bug the heck out of me. But when you live in a cold city…”
“You come to appreciate just what being a community means,” Holly finished for him.
“This inn and the Christmas family mean more to both Anastasia Island and St. Augustine than I think Victor, Pamela, and their team anticipated.”
Holly knew he was right, and the hope that they might still be able to pull this off surged through her once again. Probably by the most slim of margins. But they would pull it off.
She blew out a breath. “This is so nerve-racking,” she told Logan as they went to find Jack and Charlie and fill them in on the news.
“I know, right?” Logan looked at her. “It’s like watching a movie that takes you right to the last moment and you think… surely this isn’t how the writers are going to make this end…”
“And then the miracle happens?” Holly added.
“Exactly.” Logan blew out a breath as they got to the library door. “Ready to face whatever’s going on inside there?”
“I think Jack could use some good news.” Holly nodded as they entered the room.