Katherine's Cambridge Place Guide

I was hunched over the kitchen table, coffee gone cold, staring at three contractor quotes that might as well have been written in ancient runes. One quote had glossy renderings from a design firm in Vaughan and a price that made me gulp. Another was a single typed page from a tradie in Mississauga with a number so low I suspected he forgot to include drywall. The third was in-between, with a note about permits and an estimated timeline that kept changing every time I calle

I was on my hands and knees at 6:30 am, taping the last sheet of rosin paper to the kitchen floor while the neighbour's truck idled on the street and the contractor still hadn't shown. Dust already tasted like guilt in the air. My wife had parked our kid in the living room with a pile of board books on bare carpet because the basement is still just concrete and I promised him a play space "soon." The original 1990s oak cabinets looked like relics, and the grout in the main