El Rancho del Corazón
3 The Foundation
THE PHONE WAS RINGING at seven in the morning and Dad had grabbed it in his room before I could get untangled to get the phone in the living room.
“Brian! This one’s for you to handle. I’ll be out in a minute.” I stumbled on out to the living room and picked up the phone.
“Hello?”
“This is Ron Filmore, your contractor out on your farm. I know Rose said she’d be out at nine o’clock, but we have cement trucks and a crew scheduled this morning to pour the foundation of the modular. I need to get them cancelled if they can’t work this morning. It might cost us a load of cement if they are already turning.”
“Dang, Ron. We have to call the sheriff to see if we can get in. They had it roped off for the fire investigator yesterday. Our foundation shouldn’t be affected, so let me see what he says. I’ll call you back in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Time’s ticking. I’ll get off.”
He hung up and Dad was standing beside me. I explained the situation briefly and he dialed Sheriff Donaldson’s number. He used the phone in the bedroom and I made coffee. Dad came out a couple minutes later.
“Go ahead and call him back. Jim says we should be able to continue work on the foundation, but we need to get out there this morning, too. They have preliminary results of the investigation,” Dad said. “Get dressed.”
Well, we were partly dressed. Rose took enough time to call home and tell Courtney where we’d be after I called the contractor. It didn’t take long for us to pull up to the McDonald’s drive-through to get breakfast sandwiches and more coffee.
We got to the ranch before either the sheriff or the contractor arrived. The deputy on duty called in and told us to go ahead, but stay outside the yellow tape. Dad and I walked around the excavation. We had a set of the plans for the modular with us and he said that as long as we were here we might as well take a couple of measurements. The places where the plumbing, sewer, and electric were set to enter the house had to be exactly according to the plans from the modular company or they wouldn’t match the units when they were ready to be installed. Without the house, we really needed that modular. It would be the only place on the property habitable for a while. I still didn’t know what we’d do to replace the house. I hoped we could.
Damn it! It wasn’t just our home. That was bad enough. It was also our studio and anticipated source of income. I hadn’t thought about that. There wasn’t a chance we’d get a replacement that had those high ceilings and open kitchen plan. We were going to have to look for a new studio.
The contractor led a crew in four pickup trucks onto the property and they parked next to his trailer. Ron headed for Dad and me immediately.
“Don’t you trust that we measured it?” he started.
“Never hurts to measure twice,” I said extending my hand. He hesitated and then shook it a little begrudgingly.
“Sure. You don’t have to worry, though. We guaranteed that the foundation would be ready for correct installation of the modular. If it doesn’t fit, I have to fix it.”
“Thank you for the reminder on that, Mr. Filmore,” Rose said. “Sometimes those little guarantees get forgotten until it’s too late to get a timely remedy. With the units arriving in less than two weeks, we won’t have time to redo anything. Especially with our current living situation.” She nodded toward the burned-out house. Ron Filmore looked at Rose and then shook his head chuckling.
“You folks know something? I wouldn’t have taken this contract for a bunch of kids under most circumstances. From the first time we met, and Mrs. Pratt wouldn’t talk to us, I realized there was something special about you all,” he said. “Eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds don’t get that kind of respect from their parents unless they’ve earned it. Ladies. Brian, we’re going to get this unit up as quickly as possible so you’ll have a place to live. And it will be right. Then we’ll help you figure out what to do about the mess over there. I’m sorry about the loss of the other house. Damned shame. Now if you’ll excuse me, we need to get the moisture barrier and rebar in place before that first truck gets here. We should have had it in yesterday.” He nodded to us and turned to get his crews in motion. Dad put a hand on my shoulder and nodded.
About that time Sheriff Donaldson rolled up and the fire inspector right behind him. I saw the other deputy take off. A fence contractor was right behind the inspector.
We shook hands all the way around with Sheriff Donaldson introducing each of us to Dan Armitage, the fire inspector. Of course, he was focused on Anna. She was, after all, the property owner.
“I’m afraid we need to fence off the damaged site for safety and security,” he started. “Even though I found no direct sign of a malicious act against your property involving fire, there are questionable bits that require some lab work. In other words, while I don’t think at the moment that it was arson, I was told about your confrontation with the adjuster yesterday. I’m securing the site so that you can request a State Investigator for a second opinion. It’s likely your insurance company will want an independent investigation, as well. What I found last night as I was crawling around in the cellar was what appeared to be rat-chewed wires. The question remains as to how that contributed to the fire starting after the power had been on for two weeks. The lab work will reveal if there were any unexpected substances on or near the wires.”
“Our insurance should cover it then,” Anna said, breathing a sigh of relief. “What was the name of that adjuster, Hayden? I’m going to call him and tell him to get his ass over here. Well, if I had a phone, anyway.”
“Be patient, sweetheart. Rex is on his way. He’ll straighten them out.”
“And it’s not a sure thing, Ms. Pratt,” Dan said. “The insurance company might contest the findings. State Law is getting tougher on insurers, but most will do anything possible to minimize a claim.”
“Insurance is a racket,” Sheriff Donaldson said.
“You remember the old Fergusson place?” Dan said, nodding his head at the sheriff. “That’s exactly what happened to him. Place got hit by a tornado. He had it on the market for over half a million and the insurance company settled for $125,000. They said the real estate hadn’t been damaged and was still worth the same as before. It was only the house that was damaged and it wasn’t worth much. Still put Fergy pretty much on the street after the settlement.”
“Shit!” I said.
“I think we can all agree with that,” Dad said.
The fencing contractor had to stake out an area with a ten-foot perimeter around the house. That put it right out into the driveway. Ron tested the ground and determined the cement trucks could navigate the grassy edge without getting bogged down. We talked for a while, though, and agreed that we needed to do some quick excavating this week in order to prepare a firm surface for the trucks delivering the modular. They were going to drive in here with a freakin’ house!
The first cement truck arrived and I looked over to see the guys all set up with trowels, levels, long bars, and implements I didn’t recognize. Ron directed the truck and in about ten minutes, cement was spewing out its trough and was being guided into the trenches and beam cuts. Another truck was waiting in the drive before that one was empty. No wonder they needed so many guys out there. They were hustling to get the cement leveled and to tamp out bubbles as fast as the truck dumped its load.
Trucks kept coming for several hours. It took seven big mixer trucks to bring in enough concrete. If it weren’t for that damned chain link fence and the charred ruin behind it, this would have been a really exciting day. Jennifer had her trusty 35mm camera out and probably took two rolls of pictures of the rubble and the new foundation. We joked that if anyone ever needed to see a close-up of cement coming out of a trough, we were covered.
The power company showed up with a pole digger and had a new, albeit short, pole installed near the construction trailer. Then wire-stringers showed up to run a line down the off-edge of the driveway so none of the construction trucks had to cross under it. They also ran the power lines for the modular as far as the barn. The line was coiled there and would be run across to the bunkhouse after the installation.
Rex Davis arrived about ten o’clock and took Dad and Anna off to work on the insurance claim. There was nothing Rose or Jennifer or I could do regarding that. The insurance was on Anna’s property. About one o’clock, just after we’d come back from getting McDonald’s for everyone, Doug, Rhiannon, and Doreen drove in, followed by Sora and Sarah pulling the trailer.
Ron had taken a few minutes to go over our plan for housing while we were waiting for the others to show up. He pointed out that there was an RV pad back next to the barn. He thought it was mostly for storage as the area for entrance was pretty tight. But it did have a sewer hookup and power run from the barn. It had the added advantage of water. I was impressed with how well Sora backed her family’s trailer into the little space we had.
I got girlfriend greetings from all four of the girls who had just arrived. Sarah and Sora were all over me as soon as the trailer was parked. Then Rhiannon and Doreen each demanded some deep kissing to welcome them to El Rancho del Corazón. I was thinking seriously about hauling Doreen into the trailer immediately.
“Where are Anna and Hayden?” Rhiannon asked breathlessly when we were finished kissing.
“They went into town with Rose’s dad to talk to the insurance adjuster,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I have such cool things! I need to stake out a space in the barn to set up my drafting table. There isn’t enough room in the trailer,” Rhiannon bubbled. “We talked to the modular builder in Nappanee. We swung by there this morning before we met up with Sarah and Sora. I picked up plans they said we could modify for a new house.”
“Really? You think we can replace the old house with something that is just as good?” Jennifer asked.
“Better!” Rhiannon answered. “They gave me an instruction book on how to customize the plans. We could get a 4,000 square foot house on this lot, complete with the kind of kitchen you want, and probably come in well below what the insurance will pay for replacement cost. Five bedrooms and four full baths. With enough room in the living room/family room area to have the entire clan over for one of your home-cooked meals!”
“Rhiannon! Slow down! We don’t even know what Anna will get for a settlement. It looks bleak. And then she is the one who will have to approve the plans,” I said.
“I’m going to occupy a horse stall and turn it into my interim office,” Rhiannon declared. “I’ll sell her on the idea.”
I glanced over at Doug. He had a complete fish-out-of-water look on his face. I decided maybe the guys should take a walk and let the girls jump up and down over things for a while. We headed toward where they were still leveling cement and then turned toward the pasture.
“She is so excited!” Doug said. “I mean, you know Rhiannon. She can really get excited. But I’ve never seen her like this. She was on the phone half the day yesterday with the people over in Nappanee. Man, I think they might have offered her a job. She’s been talking about how this is the first one she will design.”
“I don’t know how you can keep up with her,” I laughed. “She was pretty overwhelming just now.”
“Well, you know what that means?” Doug asked. “Tonight, either she is going to crash before sundown and sleep till morning, or she’ll be too excited to sleep and I’ll get ridden until I can’t stay up anymore. You know, I always thought that Liz was the insatiable one in our group. Especially when she decided she wanted both you and me. But Rhiannon… I’m kind of glad I’ve got help with her. If she goes like I think she will tonight, I might send her to be with you tomorrow, just so I can get some sleep.”
“Shit, Doug. I don’t even know how to respond to that. I’ve got four girls here who want attention, and I’m betting your sister does, too. How am I supposed to handle all that?”
“With both hands, cousin. With both hands.”
Comments
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.