Why Lorie? Part II

Chapter 12: Nicolae Makes a New Aquaintance

"I can't stand this noise anymore!" Drogo turned onto his stomach and covered his head with a pillow.

"You are such a baby!" Nicolae chuckled. He stood in the doorway to Drogo's bedroom, watching his brother twist and turn in agony. Outside, there was non-stop hammering, sawing, chopping and banging, as work on the expansion of the house was in full swing. When the tools stopped, the workmen shouted at each other from a distance. The clamor and commotion were therefore constant, from dawn until dusk, with a short break at midday.

"I swear to God, if they don't stop I'm going out there and killing them all!" Drogo muttered, his face buried into the mattress.

"And then we'll have to live in a hovel forever," Nicolae replied. "Be glad Viktor decided to renovate this place. Remember that first week, when we found out there was no running water? Not to mention... no running toilets?"

"Yes, yes... but I went into the woods and it was just fine," Drogo said morosely.

"Maybe for you... I have a bit more sophisticated tastes," Nicolae arched an elegant eyebrow. He then picked up a throw pillow and tossed it straight toward the back of Drogo's head. The flying missile easily found its mark and landed with a thump.

Drogo grunted. "What do you want from me now?"

"Now that it finally stopped snowing, I'd like to take a walk around town, and get a better feel for the place. I thought you might like to join me," Nicolae casually informed him.

"If it'll get me out of this dump and away from the constant racket, I'd be glad to," Drogo turned toward his brother.

"Then get ready and let's go," Nicolae prompted him.

He didn't have to say it twice. In less than five minutes, Drogo was dressed and standing in the downstairs foyer. All around him, the walls had been stripped of paint and wallpaper, and some were completely removed. There were buckets of paint, loose nails and tools strewn all over the place. The entire structure was covered in scaffolding and looked like a war zone, but it was a necessary evil.

"You know... Viktor should've just bought a better house to begin with," Drogo muttered as Nicolae descended the stairs.

"But then it wouldn't be nearly as much fun to redo," Nicolae grinned sarcastically.

"I don't know how he can stand it!" Drogo remarked, running a hand through his thick blond hair.

"He can because he knows he is returning to Vienna in less than a month," Nicolae replied.

"What? Are you sure?" Drogo raised both eyebrows, his voice full of wonder.

"Yes. He already sent Josette a letter informing her he is looking for ocean liner tickets from Boston to Hamburg, for the last week of February," Nicolae informed him.

"Wow! I can't believe it! We'll finally be rid of him!" Drogo chuckled, as his amber eyes sparkled mischievously.

"Don't celebrate too soon," Nicolae warned him. "He hasn't bought his ticket yet... and if he notices how joyful you feel about it, he might just postpone his trip simply to antagonize you."

Drogo sighed. "Alright. I'll keep my mouth shut. And be on my best behavior," he drew an imaginary cross over his chest with two fingers. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he grinned broadly toward Nicolae.

"Ha, ha... very funny," Nicolae scoffed, as they exited the house.

It was a dismal morning in Massachusetts in the first week of February, 1911. While it had warmed up a bit and stopped snowing, it was still cold enough to turn whatever was left on the ground into a partially frozen brown slush.  The sky was overcast, and the grey clouds prevented any ray of sunshine from breaking through.  Needless to say, the weather matched Drogo's mood perfectly.