9
The next day after the paint had dried, Bennett hefted one end of the rolled-up rug that had been stored on the lower level for decades. “Can you get the other end of this?”
“Got it, bro,” Mitch replied, lifting the other end of the carpet with the enviable ease of youth.
Dust puffed from the fibers as they hauled the rug toward the bookshelves. While this was hard work, Bennett enjoyed helping Ivy organize this space. He glanced around. There was still a lot to clean up. Even though the area had been sealed, fine sand and silt had managed to filter through the cracks after years of constant sea breezes.
The area smelled of fresh paint and salty sea air now, a welcome change from the musty odor that had greeted Bennett just a few days ago.
This past year, Bennett had maintained his
