“I know,” I say, stopping briefly and taking a step back to study the wall. “But I’m doing a beautiful wallpaper behind the bed that will really ground this color, and the bathroom will feature framed sunset photos we’ve taken over the years.” I stop. “I want guests to feel as if they’re part of our family.” I begin to paint again, before I realize Evan is surreptitiously holding his cell. “Evan,” I say, sounding a threat and brandishing my paintbrush. “Don’t. I look too Grey Gardens to be taped.”

“Too late,” Evan says. “And besides, what you just said is perfect. It will make great footage for social media.” He taps his screen and looks at me. “Would you mind doing something a little more dramatic now?” Evan asks.

“Besides quitting my job and starting a B and B?”

“For me to tape,” he continues. “I was thinking of Fixer Upper again. Chip loves demo day, and viewers do, too.”

“I’m paying someone to do that,” I say before I suddenly remember my own demo day at the fish house with Frank.

What an adrenaline rush, I think. And what a discovery.

I quickly relay this to Evan. “I totally forgot about it in my excitement to see you,” I say.

“What if we found something else?” he says. “Live.”

The word live reverberates in my head, and my mind ricochets back in time to the spring of 1986 when my parents and I were riveted to the television to watch Geraldo Rivera open Al Capone’s secret vault. It seemed like the entire country was captivated by the spectacle of what he might discover.

“Okay,” I say quickly. “Can you ask Frank if we can use his sledgehammer?”

“Okay,” Evan says, before rushing toward the door, a big smile crossing his face.

“Meet me in the attic!” I call.

Evan returns in a flash, huffing and puffing, sledgehammer in tow. He hands it to me.

About three-quarters of the attic has already been demoed, and new rooms have been roughed in by Frank and his team, but there is an original wall near the stairs that has yet to be touched. I was unsure initially about what to do with this awkward space. But Trish has convinced me a laundry room here would save me not only time but also my back.

“Let’s do this!” Evan says, lifting up his cell.

I pick up the sledgehammer, the weight of it making me take a big step backward. I can hear Evan stifle a laugh. I turn toward the cell phone and say, “An original wall in Cozy Cottage. Here goes nothing!”

I whack the wall, and the impact reverberates through my entire body.

“You look like a human Slinky,” Evan says with a big laugh.