“Holy moly,” she said. “This thing is heavy. And I can’t believe you and Carol called the boys instead of me. I could have gotten the whole story out of Johnny with one hand tied behind my back.”

I shrugged. “I think they’re out in the trailer with him if you want to jump in.”

“Maybe I’ll wait a little while. Let them break him down first so he’ll be ready to talk.” Christine opened the fridge, grabbed a slice of turkey.

“Hey,” I said. “Get your mitts off that. You cook your own turkey, you don’t get my leftovers.”

Christine chewed a few times, then opened her mouth so I could see what was left of my turkey.

“Oh, grow up,” I said.

“You grow up,” she said.

It turned out John and I were wrong about both the mullets and the mallets. Joe walked in carrying another sledgehammer, plus something smaller that looked like an ordinary hammer to me, as well as what I was pretty sure was a crowbar. I took a moment to wonder why tools didn’t come with their names labeled on them in big easy-to-read letters. It seemed to me that it would be a lot easier to dive into the DIY frenzy if you knew exactly what weapon of destruction you were holding in your hot little hands.

“Thanks for coming over,” John said.

“Listen,” Joe said. “I’ll get you started, because all I need is another set of homeowners screwing things up by trying to save some time and money and costing us more of both. But the truth is, if you can manage to do it right, we’ll get in and out of here a lot faster, which will mean savings all around.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I think.”

“That’s what we were hoping for,” John said. “The saving time and money part, not the screwing up part.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Joe said. “And as soon as I get you going, I’m out of here. There’s no way in hell I’m working Thanksgiving weekend.”

All four of us put on the safety glasses Joe had brought with him.

Christine and I crossed our eyes at each other, cracked ourselves up.

“We look like mad scientists,” I said.

Christine held up her phone. “Come on, you guys. Let’s take a selfie together.”

“Chris.” Behind his safety glasses, Joe narrowed his eyes.

“Fine,” Christine said. “Be a jerk.”

She tilted her head until it touched mine, hit the button on her phone.

“I’ll email it to you,” she said. “Carol will be so pissed she’s not in it.”