Sunday, Justine came home and told Patrick that Pastor Daniel wanted to talk to him. He was at the office. Patrick decided it was a little silly to phone when he could walk there in a few minutes. There were still people standing around talking, but Daniel was waiting for him in the office.
"I just wanted to let you know where we are with that property you mentioned." Daniel leaned back in his chair. "The trustees had just got the registration sorted out when we received an offer from a company that wants to develop that property for apartments. Since we had been talking about the property, the Board had done some thinking about what if anything they wanted to do with it."
Patrick's stomach started to burn.
"How much more did you ask for?"
"That's the funny part. Their lawyer had this nervous look like we were going to get crazy and ask for a ridiculous price. We have some solid business people on the board and they said the offer was reasonable. No, what we decided was that we wanted the rent on a portion of the units, roughly equivalent to the value of the land, to be geared to low-income housing. We offered to manage the extra work it would create through the church. I think we shocked them. They are considering the proposal and will get back to us next week." The minister grinned. "We've wanted to get some low-income housing in the area for quite some time. This will allow us to do it faster and neater than we could have on our own."
Monday morning there was a note on Patrick's desk. 412 Now was all it said. Patrick took the elevator up trying to calm his stomach. Mr. Carson and one of the middle range lawyers were there. Mr. Carson closed the door.
"We have a development on the church property," he said.
"Essentially they want to use the purchase price to permanently subsidize the rent in five units," the lawyer said. "Church people, go figure. You talked to them. Are they serious about this?"
"I would say so, sir," Patrick said and swallowed. "The church is where my daughter goes to Sunday School. The minister seemed very excited about the proposal." He could feel Mr. Carson's eyes on him.
"You didn't tell me you were a member of the church."
"I'm not. I don't go to church, not since my wife died."
"Can't blame you," the lawyer said. "Doesn't seem entirely rational. Anyway, they were very grateful for the offer for the land. I think the clients are going to go for it. This housing stuff is all the rage these days. It will look good on them and they get the land at a very reasonable price." He looked over at Mr. Carson. "No harm, no foul." He left the tiny room. Mr. Carson closed the door after him.
"How long ago did your wife die?" he said.
"A little more than two years," Patrick said.
"Mine died last year. Worst thing that ever happened to me. Try to be more careful Patrick. You're a good researcher, I'd hate to lose you over some silly damn thing." He left the office too. Patrick took the elevator back down to his desk. For some reason it had never occurred to him that other people at the firm might have lost people too.
The next weekend Justine and Lee took over his bedroom. He helped them move furniture, then sat and watched TV as he listened to the bumps and bangs upstairs. He made a snack halfway through the afternoon and called them down.
"How's it going?"
"This is a lot of work," Lee said. "I'm having trouble keeping up with the whirlwind here."
"That's because you have the little brush and I'm using a roller," Justine said.
"Well, the painting is just about done. We've got some stuff at my place to pick up and bring here.
"No peeking!" Justine ordered.
"Trust me," Patrick said. Justine just rolled her eyes, but when they left, he stayed in his chair. Even though he'd seen the pictures, he didn't want to spoil the surprise.
They returned carrying rolls and bags. Justine saw him in the living room and waved as she went upstairs. Just before supper she came and got him.
"It's ready." She led him upstairs then made him close his eyes before she opened the door and pulled him in by the hand. He opened his eyes and looked around.
"Oh wow, this is even better than the pictures."
"I was so scared it wouldn't work," Justine said. "I had this picture in my head and I couldn't get the real room to look just like the picture."
"Your mom used to say that," Patrick said, "whenever she had an especially challenging project."
"Really?" she said. "I thought she always knew what she was doing."
"She always knew what she was doing, but she didn't always know if it would work."
"Right," Justine said, and Patrick and Lee laughed.
"Whatever gave you the idea to redo my room?" Patrick asked when Lee had gone home.
"It was something Drasil said."
"Drasil?"
"Drasil's a new friend of mine."
"Did you meet him at school?"
"Kind of, though I'm not sure Drasil's a he.
"Sounds interesting."
"Yeah, Drasil's....different."
"Well, thank Drasil for me anyway. This was a brilliant idea."
"Oh sure."
Justine went off to bed and left Patrick in a room which strangely made him feel both closer and further from Ingrid. He slept well.