Even Mark agreed on that. They chatted about their respective businesses and families a bit longer, then headed out. Mike cautioned them to keep the conversation about Zoey to themselves, knowing they’d probably all tell their wives anyway.

He stopped at Zoey’s that night and filled her in on what he’d found so far. He didn’t mention the possible gray area about whether the place qualified for a grandfather clause. He didn’t want her worrying about something that might never become an issue. Karen Schiff was probably bluffing anyway.

“I’m going to move some of Dad’s sculptures,” Zoey said, her attention on the old sewing machine in front of her. She scowled down into the workings of the machine. “That seems to be her biggest beef, so she might back off.”

“What are you going to do with them?”

“I haven’t decided. For now, I’ll put them behind the barn and out of sight.”

That didn’t feel right to Mike. She shouldn’t have to hide her dad’s artwork, no matter how quirky it was. He wasn’t giving up on this battle with this Schiff woman.

Zoey took a can of air and sprayed it inside the sewing machine now that she had the top off, blowing out little bits of dust. Next came a small bottle of oil with a long, narrow tip on it, and she started putting drops of oil in the sewing machine. First on the camshaft in the front, then near the back, where a little arm moved the needle up and down, and finally in the bobbin area under that. She set the bottle down and blotted the excess. He enjoyed watching her puzzle out how to fix things.

“I don’t think the sculptures are going anywhere this week, though,” she sighed. “The weather’s supposed to be really lousy.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too. A couple of storm systems coming one after the other. Mary said we could get over five inches of rain by the time it’s over.” He made a mental note to get his Mustang securely in the garage.

She nodded. “Sounds like a good weekend for painting. Hazel will be with her dad, so I’m going to tackle the sparkly black ceiling she wants in her bedroom.” She took a sip of the wine he’d brought. “We moved most of her furniture out this week, and I don’t want her living in chaos for too long.”

“So she just asks for a black ceiling and...gets it?” He couldn’t help thinking it would be easier to just say no.

“Oh, you sweet, sweet innocent, you.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “It’s so obvious you don’t have kids.” There was a short silence before she rushed to apologize. “Oh, shit, that was insensitive as hell. I’m sorry, Mike.”