The first thing Sam did the next morning was to get a new cell phone and a Palm Springs phone number. The smartly dressed black salesman in the phone store tried to talk him into a very fancy phone, but Sam opted for a fairly basic one. As he told the salesman, he had no need for all those features and he'd never learn to use them anyway.

However, the salesman did talk him into one that took pictures. "You might see something pretty and want a picture of it on your screen," he said with a wink. After he had shown Sam how to work the picture-taking, Sam backed up a little way and snapped a picture of the salesman. "There," he said with a grin, "now I have something pretty to put on my screen." He wasn't sure, but he thought the salesman blushed a little.

Over a beer that afternoon Sam told Bob and Roger about the house. "It's a real disaster," he said, "but it looks as if it might be well-designed. It's all cut up and filthy, and the garden-or what was the garden-is so overgrown you can hardly find the pool." He shook his head. "I just don't know what to do with it."

Roger, ever the practical one, said, "If it was mine I'd get a second opinion, probably from someone who knows about buildings, someone like Bill."

"Yeah," Bob said, "Bill did our exercise room and he's just finishing up with Sam and Harry's place. He seems to know what he's doing." He turned to Sam. "He's a little on the pricey side, but he knows his business and does high-quality work." He grinned. "Besides, he has good-looking workers. Lots of eye candy on the job."

Roger rolled his eyes. "The studliness of his workers is hardly the basis for a recommendation, sweetheart. An added plus maybe, but not in itself a reason to hire him." He turned to Sam. "We can put you in touch with Bill if you like. Harry said he'll be at their cottage tomorrow. We could introduce you."

Sam nodded. "Might as well get to it. Yeah, I'd like an introduction if you can arrange it." He looked around the resort. "Kind of quiet around here today."

Bob nodded. "Well, it is the last day of February-and a Monday to boot. It'll pick up midweek, and we're full up for next weekend. Take the peace and quiet while you can."

By five o'clock in the afternoon, Sam was tired of peace and quiet, so he put on his clothes and went to a bar that Bob and Roger had recommended. The place was called Sidewinders, and was just down Highway 111 a mile or two, in a small shopping center, above a pizza parlor.

It was surprisingly crowded, especially for a Monday evening, he thought. When he worked his way through the door he was confronted by a couple of guys sitting behind a table. "Name?" Sam gave it and was rewarded with a stick-on name tag. He was also offered a sticker which said Single on it as well as one that said Desperate. He took the Single one.

He made his way over to the bar and ordered a scotch and soda. He asked the bartender what was going on: why the name tags?

"Mixer," the bartender said. "Prime Timers. Do one every Monday, one place or another. Good crowd. Friendly." He turned to the man standing next to Sam. "What's yours?"

While the bartender went back to work, Sam looked around. Over in a corner he spotted Tom and Dan sitting on tall stools at a table with a couple of other guys, one a striking redhead. He was working his way over to them when a slightly stocky guy with a short beard-more like heavy stubble than a beard, Sam thought-and a killer smile caught his eye. Nice, Sam thought. I wonder if Tom and Dan know him.

Tom and Dan waved Sam over and introduced the other men. The striking redhead, naturally, was called Red, and the other one was William. Sam quickly figured out that they were a pair. Too bad, he thought, that redhead looks like quite a stud.

When Tom mentioned that Sam owned the house next door to them, Sam shook his head and said, "Yeah, but I'll probably never live in it. The place is a mess."

Tom brushed Sam's comment aside. "It's a good house, Sam. All it needs is a little-well, more than a little-work. But it's still a good, solid house."

William looked up. "You want to sell it?" He pulled out his wallet and handed Sam a card: Best Reality, Palm Springs. "Give me a call if you want to sell, and we'll see what we can do."

Sam put the card in his pocket and grinned at William. "I just might do that, William, I just might."

"Well, I hope you don't. It would be nice to have neighbors for a change," Tom said.

Sam sighed. "I don't know," he said. "The guys at the place where I'm staying are going to introduce me to a contractor tomorrow. I guess I'll see what he has to say." He looked around the table. "You guys ready for another?"

An hour later Sam left Sidewinders, picked up a pizza and went back to Some Guys. He'd had a good time and liked the crowd. On the way out he'd picked up a Prime Timers newsletter and an application to join. He read the newsletter while he ate and thought he'd like to join. It seemed like a good way to get to know the locals.

The next morning Roger introduced him to Bill Flint, the contractor. Sam and Bill hit it off right away. Bill liked Sam's no-nonsense approach to things, and Sam liked Bill's attitude and seeming honesty. Beyond that, they just liked each other. Bill offered to go out to the house with Sam and have a look around, and Sam offered to take him to lunch afterwards.

When they walked in the gate, not even in the house yet, Bill said, "Good God!"

"Yeah," Sam said. "It's something of a mess isn't it?"

"Not the word," Bill replied. "It's more of a disaster. Nothing out here has been cared for in years." He shook his head and said, "Well, let's see inside."

Sam unlocked the front door and shut off the alarm. Bill watched this and nodded. "Well, that's a good sign. There's power, at least."

"Water, too," Sam said, "although I gather it's been shut off inside the house. Lotsa leaks."

They took a quick tour through the rooms, and then Bill went back, spending time in each room, studying it. "Well?" Sam asked when Bill was through. "What'd you think?"

Bill shook his head. "Got to look at the outside first."

Before they started around the house Bill went out to his truck and returned with two pairs of gloves and a pair of pruning shears. He offered a pair of the gloves to Sam, pulled on a pair himself and proceeded to hack a path through the tangled growth. "Got to be careful of brown spiders, black widows and such." Seeing Sam jump back at the sight of a huge yellowish bug he laughed. "Don't mind them, they're harmless. Ugly, but harmless. We call them Palmetto Bugs, but as far as I'm concerned they're just great big cockroaches."

After making their way around the house, Bill pulled off his gloves and brushed himself off. "You still good for lunch?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay. Let's go over to the Rainbow. It's a gay place, has good food, and we can get a beer. Something stronger, if you want it."

At the restaurant they settled in to a table and ordered sandwiches and drafts. About halfway through lunch Bill ordered them another beer and said, "Okay. There're two ways you can go. One, clean the place up, fix what needs to be fixed, put on a new roof and hire some guys to clean up the outside and plant some new stuff."

The way he said it made Sam think that this wasn't the preferred way. "The other way?"

"Restore the place."

"Restore? To what?"

Bill smiled. "Sam, that place is-or rather was-a prime example of what we around here call Mid-Century Modern. See, Palm Springs was a celebrity hangout in the twenties and thirties. Then it kind of fell out of favor, but in the fifties it blossomed again. Guy by the name of Alexander built hundreds of houses all around town, inexpensive places for whoever wanted to live here. And they sold, mostly to folks who used them as winter places. The designs were clean, uncluttered and what people then thought of as 'Modern.' It caught on so well that some fairly well-to-do folks came down from the city and built some rather grand places with the same basic design concepts."

Sam finished his sandwich. "And?"

"And that's what you have. A Mid-Century Modern showplace. Someone fucked it up royally, but you can still see the outlines of what it was once. 'Course it'll be a bit more expensive to restore it as a showplace. Maybe a lot more expensive. But Sam," he reached across the table and touched Sam's hand, "it would be worth it. Trust me on this."

Sam leaned back in his chair and drained his beer. "How much?"

Bill shrugged. "No idea. I'd have to do a lot more looking and talk to some people. But I got to warn you, Sam. It wouldn't just be thousands. More like tens of thousands. Probably a lot of tens of thousands."

"Okay, then. How long?"

Bill looked up at the ceiling. "Eight months, a year. Depends on how it goes."

Sam put some bills down on the table. "Let's go back. I need another look."

Back at the house they went through the rooms, Bill pointing out things that would have to be done. It was a lot. When they were through and standing in the living room, Sam turned to Bill and offered his hand. "Okay. Do it. Make it what it's supposed to be. Make it the showplace it was."

Bill shook his hand. "Just like that?"

Sam nodded. "Why quibble about doing something that's the right thing to do?" He took out his checkbook and wrote Bill a check for ten thousand dollars. "There's the first of the tens."

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Bill put the check in his pocket and then put his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Well, so am I. I've got a couple of loose ends to tie up, but I think we can start on it in a couple of weeks, maybe sooner. In the meantime, I think I'll get some landscape guys out here and start clearing outside. I think we should just rip it all out and start fresh. Well, except for the palms and that big ficus tree in the corner. Those should stay. What'd you think?"

Sam grinned. "I think you're in charge here, the one who knows what he's doing." He stood back and looked at Bill. "You're getting off on this, aren't you?"

Bill laughed. "Yeah, I guess I probably am. You know, Sam, I've always wanted to do a job like this: restoring a place that's really worth restoring. Ever since I did grunt work for my dad, I've liked fixing things, taking them back to what they're supposed to be." He looked around the room. "I promise you, Sam: you keep the money coming and I'll make you very proud to own this place." They shook hands again, and both were left feeling that they were going to do very good things together.