We both looked at the front door, its brown paint stained with the dust of plastering materials. There was a deep cut in the center of the door, feeling a very small breeze coming from inside.
I ran my finger across it and brought it up to Darren’s attention, “Was this the accident that you were talking about, when the guys brought the buzz-saw in?”
Darren nodded, “Yeah. Apparently when one of the guys was coming in with the tool bag, one of the blades fell out and cut the door. We could patch it up and buff it out, not too bad of a ding.”
I thought about it for a moment, but shook my head, against the idea, “Nah, no need. We’re already investing a lot of money into the remodeling. Wouldn’t hurt to drop a few more bucks on a new door.” A bunch of the walls on the first floor were already taken down and had the metal beams replaced, the floors were still being ripped apart, and the stairs were still being installed; might as well replace the door since everything else was being broken down and updated.
After a quick brainstorm session on what kind of design the new front door should have, I took out the key to the house and unlocked it, carefully stepping over some of the wiring that operated the doorbell. I reminded Darren that we needed to at least cover it up before we leave here for the day. After walking into what once use to be the living room, we split up to do a quick walk-around of the entire first floor, looking out for any kind of construction work that we missed initially and to see how the progress was going overall. Exposed support beams, wooden planks nailed around on almost every wall, and glass windows only being shards around the edge: the common sight of home flipping.
As I was doing my pass of the house, I saw a sledgehammer propped up on a wall, just waiting for its next swing. I picked it up and carried it on my shoulder as I walked around, feeling like a warden walking through a prison block. I took a pass through the kitchen, its counters covered in plastering and tools, and went to the main hallway that would eventually lead to the stairs to the second floor. There were markings along the wall, indicating where each step would be leading up to the basic landing for the second floor. For now, we had a steel ladder that helped us get up and down.
Ever since the remodeling started, people have barely done any work on the second floor. It started to make me think that there were probably a bunch of walls still intact that I could swing at for some fun.