She swiped over to a photo of an enormous farmhouse dining table.

“Vance ordered this yesterday,” Chloe said.

“Delivery takes six weeks.”

I looked at the original brass house numbers nailed up next to the front door.

They’d hung there ever since my grandfather Arthur bought the place.

“Where’s Vance going to put the table while they’re knocking down walls?” I asked.

“In the living room,” she said.

“We have to haul all your grandfather’s heavy old bookshelves out to the curb anyway.”