Cecile reached out and grabbed the scattered documents. She started sorting them and handing them around the table. “Okay, everyone take a few pages and let’s see what we can find. It’ll be like those lawyer shows on TV, where the paralegal finds the detail that turns the case around!”

Everyone took a few pages as ordered, including Mike. He’d been over this stuff a dozen times. Technically, the repair shop could be considered commercial property. And technically, thanks to Zoey’s father, the land was zoned residential. And technically, the zoning laws narrowed the definitions of residential and commercial, limiting what could be grandfathered in.

So technically... Mike might be screwed.

He and Zoey had talked only once since she’d handed him the certified letter, and it was about the case, not their relationship. Mike made sure of that. He didn’t want her feeling pressured, because he knew it could make her withdraw even further. Like Logan had said, a good mom is always going to be willing to sacrifice her own happiness for her kids’ sake. Even when she doesn’t need to.

Iris, her glasses low on her nose, looked over the rim at Mike. “You saying we have knowledge you don’t was a lawyerly way of saying we’re old. But it’s true that some of us have had our run-ins with the town board and annoying neighbors through our many years on the planet.” She nodded toward the file. “A historic declaration can shut down a lot of arguments.”

“You mean having her place declared a historic landmark?” Mike asked. “That might help, but...on what grounds? It’s an old Victorian, but so are three-quarters of the houses in town.”

“I remember Zoey’s grandfather—not her dad, but his dad...”

Vickie made a face. “That’s generally how grandfathers work, Iris.”

“I’m just making a point, Victoria.” Iris scowled, then continued. “The point is Rob’s dad started the appliance repair business, but his dad—Rob’s grandfather—was a blacksmith. And he worked out of that shop. And I’m pretty sure the earlier Hartford generations did the same.”

Mike remembered seeing a giant anvil in the back corner of the barn. “So you’re thinking if the barn was always used as a business...for generations...that might sway the zoning board.” He jotted some notes on his tablet. “That might work. Let’s see if we can find any mention of that in these papers.”

Rick Thomas pulled out his phone. “Papers-schmapers. Let’s look online. What’s the address up there again? If I search that against blacksmiths and Hartfords, I might find something.”