“And it might work. But you just might find out that these people are watching The Simpsons instead of Masterpiece Theatre.”

Josie grinned. “I suppose.” She hesitated, then continued. “Do you think I’m being stupid?”

“No, you see a problem and when an opportunity comes up to do something about it, you act. I think you’re being smart. But…”

Josie didn’t even have time to enjoy his compliment. “What? What but?”

“You’ve never watched Courtney.”

“That’s what I was telling you… Why?”

“I don’t want to prejudice you. Let’s finish up here and go home and watch. Then you can tell me what you think.”

Their risotto had arrived, but Josie discovered that she’d lost her appetite.

Josie’s bowl of ice cream was melting on the coffee table. She hadn’t said a word while the show was on. She hadn’t said a word in the nine minutes since it ended. Sam had been waiting patiently-until now.

“I’m going to get another bowl of ice cream. Would you like another one? Or maybe a glass of brandy or something?”

“No, I’m fine.” She was silent for a few minutes longer. “She really is pretty, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“You know, she reminds me of someone. I can’t figure out who-”

“You’ve probably seen her photograph in a magazine or a newspaper. So she seems familiar.”

“I suppose that’s it. She has awfully long-and clean- fingernails for a carpenter.”

“Perhaps they’re fake. Or maybe she just had a manicure.”

Josie remembered the equipment she had seen in the van that afternoon and decided he could be right.

“What did you think?” Sam finally asked.

“I think I may have made a mistake. Courtney is the star of that show and the house is the costar. I don’t see how being on it is going to help Island Contracting.” Or me.

But she didn’t say the last two words aloud.

FOUR

JOSIE WOKE UP with the uncomfortable feeling that the night had been filled with bad dreams. But she didn’t have time to worry about vague phantoms; she had to talk to her son before she left for work.

Apparently their meeting was high on Tyler ’s agenda also. She walked into the large room that, in addition to their two bedrooms and two baths, completed their apartment. Her son was standing at the stove. No, she corrected herself before opening her mouth, he was cooking at the stove.

“ Tyler?” Maybe she was still dreaming?

“Hi, Mom! What do you want with your blueberry pancakes? Bacon or sausage?”

“You made blueberry pancakes?”

“Yup. The batter’s waiting to go on the griddle. So?”

Josie stared at her tall, good-looking son with disbelief. “So?” she repeated, confused.

“So which do you want? Bacon or sausage? There’s only room for one on the side of the griddle.”

“We have a griddle?” It didn’t seem likely. The most professional equipment in her kitchen was the KitchenAid mixer Sam’s mother had given her last Christmas. The half-inch of white stuff in the bottom of its bowl was dust, not flour.

“I borrowed it from Risa yesterday. Want some coffee? I filled your thermos and made extra.”

Josie sat down at the small counter that served as their daily eating place. “Before you start looking up recipes for Chateaubriand and pressing your own grapes, I should tell you that you can take the job at Family Video-with two conditions,” she added quickly, raising her hand to silence his enthusiasm.

Tyler stood quietly while she explained the ideas Sam had come up with and then a large grin spread across his face. “Thanks, Mom. I knew you’d be reasonable. You know what I’m going to do with my salary?”

“Put half of it in your college fund,” she reminded him.

“Sure, but after that I’m going to start saving for my car.”

“Your what? Tyler, you won’t be driving for another year. And cars are expensive.” Josie shut up. A year was a long way away and Tyler ’s enthusiasms could be as brief as they were intense. Besides, the smell of hickory-smoked bacon filled the air and there were more immediate things to worry about. “Did you check to see if we had any syrup?”

“The real stuff,” he replied, pointing to the plastic jug she hadn’t noticed at the end of the counter.

“You really planned this well.”

“I figured we could celebrate my new job if you agreed to it. And if not, I’d try bribing you with a good home-cooked meal. You know what they say: The way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach. Right?”

“That’s not quite how I heard it,” Josie admitted, reaching for the plate Tyler passed her. The plate, bought at a garage sale, was extra large. And it was in danger of overflowing. She picked up her fork and reached for the syrup, suddenly famished.

Josie was a good and enlightened mother. She had read her share of articles about the importance of self-confidence, so she forced herself to stop eating after the first pancake and compliment her son’s cooking.

“So when do you start work?” Josie asked, putting down her fork and reaching for her coffee.

“Today. At nine o’clock. So I’d better get,” Tyler said, standing up. He seemed to notice the pile of dishes in the sink for the first time. “I’ll clean these up tonight, okay?”

Josie smiled. She doubted it. “Great. I’ll have a hard time matching this meal for dinner tonight.”

“Uh. Mom.”

Josie knew what was coming. “You’re not going to be home for dinner. I thought if you worked early, you’d be off by five.”

“Oh, it’s not work. It’s just that I promised some of the guys that I’d meet them for pizza and we could watch a video or two.” He grinned, for a moment resembling his mother. “I get free videos, you know. This could make me the most popular person on the island this summer.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you already are.” Josie glanced at the large grandfather clock Tyler had made for her in his shop class at school. “Damn. I’m going to be late if I don’t get a move on. When will you be home?” she called over her shoulder as she hurried to the bathroom.

“I’m not sure. I’ll call and tell you where I’m going to be and what time I’ll be home. I can leave a message on the machine if you’re out.”

“Okay, but be here by ten-”

“Thirty. I know, Mom. I know.”

Bobby Valentine hadn’t lied. Courtney Castle’s Castles had folded its equipment into its vans and vanished into the sunset (or wherever). Happily, everyone from Island Contracting seemed to be present, accounted for, and working busily. The windows of number 23 were open and dust was flying out of them. As well as noise. Lots of noise, as the heavyset man standing on the side deck of number 25 seemed anxious to point out.

“You Josie Pigeon?”

Josie forced a polite smile onto her face and admitted the truth.

“Howard, is that the contractor?” The question came from the dark interior of the house behind the man.

“I’ll take care of this, Cheryl. You just keep trying on everything in your wardrobe.”

Josie knew what was going on. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to deal with a neighbor who came to the shore for a nice quiet vacation only to discover the realities of early-morning remodeling going on nearby. “This isn’t going to last forever,” Josie said, waving toward the house. “And this is the noisy part. In a few days the demolition will be complete and things will get quieter.”

The man in the doorway seemed to consider her words. “There were a lot of television vans here yesterday.”

“Yes.” Was he the type of person who would be thrilled to have a bird’s-eye view so near a production, despite the noise level? She could only hope. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to hide it from him. “Courtney Castle is going to be taping some of the work next door.”

“Yeah, Cheryl and me, we saw her name on one of the vans. Was she here yesterday?”

Josie had watched the show the night before and knew the answer to this. “Well, uh…” She sure hoped these two weren’t going to be a problem, hanging around the work site, hoping to meet the celebrity.