Possessed by a Stranger by Jeny Stone

downstairs bathroom addition.”
    Bob, the man always in charge, interrupted
Hannah. “Well those gaslight fixtures have to be replaced unless
you don’t want electric lights. Are you going to pick them out or
do we add them to the bid?” With a hardy chuckle, Bob asserted his
authority over electrical issues.
    “Whoa, let’s get something straight. I’m not
remodeling, I’m restoring and keeping as much of the original light
fixtures as possible. I can convert the gaslight chandeliers into
electric. Most of them look like they are made out of iron and I
can refurbish them. If you look over your scope, you’ll see
materials are not to be included in your bids.”
    Bob, wasn’t willing to relinquish his
self-appointed management status. “You realize we get paid by the
hour. Any delays on your part are a waste of your money.” His
chuckle was a lot less hardy this time.
    Hannah was experienced with multi-tasking
testosterone filled contractors. Starting each new project, she
found it imperative to set the ground rules upfront and establish
who was footing the bill. Otherwise, the project could be turned
into a disaster. All these men carried drills, hammers, electric
saws and wrecking bars they loved to use. Making sure they used
their tools of destruction correctly would be a full time job.
    “Let me assure you, there will not be any
delays attributed to me. A trailer will be dropped here tomorrow
with materials. I suggest you take down all the fixtures first.
That way I can assess their condition and start work on the
keepers. The painters will be scheduled to follow your progress to
paint and repair the ceilings. By the time you are done running the
new wiring, I will have the original chandeliers ready to be
reinstalled or replacements. I need this work done quickly, so if
you need to hire extra help to keep up, just add that to your
estimate.” With Bob under control, the rest of the contractors fell
into line.
    Workers and work kept Hannah preoccupied for
weeks on end. Electricians, plumbers, roofers, painters, gardeners
and a small cleaning crew, none of which understood restore versus
remodel, had to be hand held through the process. She reeked of
bleach and lemon oil when she tumbled onto her inflatable air
mattress at night. Mr. P. Garret must reside in her air mattress
because as soon as her tired body hit the sheets he appeared in her
thoughts.
    Without a second to reminisce during the day,
she reserved the dreamy moments before she fell asleep to relive
her wonderful night. She created different scenarios in her mind
where they met again. Him knocking on the front door of her
cottage, her walking along the country road, and her favorite, a
huge ad in the newspaper begging her to contact him were a few of
the beginnings to her fantasy. All of them ended with her naked in
his bed. So, even if it was a fantasy, she fell asleep every night
feeling his arms holding her tight as her head rested on his firm
chest.
    As soon as the cottage had running water and
some electricity, she had relinquished her motel room to take up
residence in her new home. With sweat, knowledge, and a waning
patience, she earned her contractors’ respect. Her restoration was
efficiently planned and coming up to the three-month completion
date, on track, to finish on schedule.
    Her furniture was scheduled to arrive
tomorrow. She looked forward to seeing her truck drivers as much as
her furniture. At least they knew what they were doing. Things
should slow down now, giving her time to breathe without gasps of
astonishment at the newest blunder her contractors committed.
Something as simple as a bathroom break had cost her thousands of
dollars and a two-day delay. The plumber decided to run the pipes
through the wall instead of underground. Some days, relieving your
bladder turned out to be a costly necessity.
    After her furniture was in place, she should
have the opportunity to visit the neighbors. The Presley’s still
lived on the