Page 74 of Finding Forever

The plumber took off his work gloves. “It isn’t the toilet.”

Beth’s stomach sank. “What is it?”

“The line between the building and the main sewer. We’ve run a camera through it. Part of the old pipe has collapsed.”

For a moment, Beth said nothing. Of all the problems she’d imagined they might have during the final week, a collapsed sewer pipe hadn’t made the list. “Can it be repaired?”

“Yes, but we’ll have to excavate part of the line and replace the damaged section. It’s not a small job.”

Hank crossed his arms in front of his chest. “How long will it take?”

“If everything goes smoothly, we should be able to get it done before your opening.”

If everything went smoothly.

Beth’s experience had taught her not to put too much faith in those four words. “How much will it cost?”

“I’ll need to work out the full estimate, but I’d allow around eighteen thousand dollars.”

Beth stared at him. “Eighteen thousand?”

The plumber nodded. “It could come in a little under that. Depends what we find once we start digging.”

“We don’t have eighteen thousand dollars.”

The plumber gave her a sympathetic look. “I’ll get the estimate to you this afternoon. If you approve it quickly, I can organize the crew and machinery for tomorrow.”

Beth glanced at Hank. He didn’t look any happier than she felt. “All right. Send it through as soon as you can.”

After the plumber left, Hank remained in the doorway. “We’ll find a way,” he said.

Beth wished she shared his confidence. “I’d better start looking.”

Hank nodded. “Let me know if you need anything.”

When he left, Beth closed her office door and returned to her desk.

Eighteen thousand dollars.

She opened the budget spreadsheet. The council couldn’t magically produce that much money at a week’s notice. The grant money had been allocated, and most of the contingency fund had already disappeared into unexpected repairs.

There had to be something they could postpone. Beth started with the orders that hadn’t arrived. Two tables for the children’s art room could wait. The extra display stands weren’t essential. Neither were the new chairs she’d ordered for the smaller meeting room.

She wrote each saving on a sheet of paper. It wasn’t enough. Beth went back through the list.

Her gaze stopped on the plumbing account. The faucets.

The wrong ones had been delivered weeks ago. Dave had dealt with the supplier, and she’d been told the center would only pay the cost of her original order.

She opened the invoice to double-check what they’d been charged. The amount was correct, but Beth still frowned. She wasn’t sure why, but something about it bothered her. She opened another folder and began checking recent purchases.

Paint.

Timber.

Door hardware.

Shelving.