Hitting Home

Sledgehammers are demolishing half the Brilliant family’s home—while cost overruns demolish their budget

By Sarah Pekkanen

Jenny Brilliant took one look at the e-mail message on her computer screen and burst into laughter.

Earlier that day, she’d driven to a showroom in Rockville to design her new bathrooms.

This was the fun part of the massive renovation of her family’s Chevy Chase home. Soon the Brilliants would move into the basement of Jenny’s parents’ house in Potomac. Though they had hoped to remain in their house during much of the renovation, the project is too extensive. They’ll need to live in Jenny’s parents’ basement for eight long months.

Jenny and her husband, Myron, would start payments on their construction loan—which cost nearly double what they’d paid for their house five years ago. Ahead lay battles with traffic, commission-hungry salespeople and, undoubtedly, each other.

But now the only things on Jenny’s mind were pedestal sinks and a Jacuzzi tub.

She hadn’t brought along the detailed budget prepared by Jim Rill, her architect. But she had a pretty good idea what she could spend outfitting 2 1/2 bathrooms. She was determined to stick to budget: Going over it would upset Myron and get the project off to a bad start and—wouldn’t that double vanity look great in the master bathroom?

A saleswoman trailed Jenny and jotted down her choices. Later, at home, Jenny checked her budget: $3,500 for tubs, sinks, fixtures, toilets—everything but tiles. The saleswoman e-mailed Jenny the cost: $14,000.

So much for sticking to budget, Jenny thought, and erased the image of a Jacuzzi from her mind.

It was the first clue the renovation, while fun to fantasize about, was going to be more complicated and trying than Myron and Jenny ever anticipated.

Jenny was already feeling overwhelmed and they hadn’t even signed a contract with Prill Construction. She had to determine which things her family would need in the coming months and which to put in storage. She had to lug mattresses, clothing and toys to her parents’ home. A kitchen designer was waiting to meet with her. All this had to be squeezed in around the schedules of her three children—Andrew, 8, Liza, 5, who had to be dropped at the bus stop at 8:30 every morning and picked up at noon, and Eric, 20 months, who took his nap on Jenny’s shoulder one morning while she scoured another bathroom store in search of bargains.

Jenny knew she needed help getting started. Luckily, she also knew whom to call. Sandra Spagnolo is a professional organizer who can look at a room and see not a decade’s growth of clutter, but things just waiting to be sorted into piles labeled Keep, Trash and Give Away. Since she’s a friend of Jenny’s, she offered a break on her $38 hourly rate, charging $28.

Spagnolo appeared every Wednesday morning and galvanized Jenny: Why are you keeping records from a job you quit years ago? Do you really need three vegetable peelers? Wouldn’t it be great to donate that too-small leather jacket to someone who really needs it?

Six weeks later, her clutter had lost its paralyzing power over Jenny. Old rugs, a broken high chair and chipped Ikea bookshelves waited on her front lawn for a heavy trash pickup. Boxes lined her dining room. The Brilliants were ready to move. The only problem? They still hadn’t signed a construction contract.

Which brings us to Paul Connolly. Connolly, a project manager for Prill Construction, is overseeing the Brilliant’s renovation. While Jenny was organizing her home, Connolly was organizing subcontractors to rebuild it. But first he had to scramble to get bids, which were needed before a contract could be signed.

It sounds like Connolly has a relatively simple job: Pick up the phone and call workers who specialize in things like demolition, excavation, masonry, framing, windows, plumbing and so on, then sit back and watch them work. The reality?

“This is the hardest job I’ve ever done,” Connolly says. “You know the old story about spinning a bunch of plates up on poles? Well, it’s like I’m doing that, then someone decides to move the poles, so I’ve gotta keep running over and [get the plates] spinning again.”

Connolly has yet to oversee a project that hasn’t suffered crises—from dump trucks that can’t fit down narrow residential streets to workers who get injured (or don’t show up) to pipes that burst in the winter, turning back yards into “ice skating rinks.” Connolly spent this past New Year’s Eve frantically painting the trim on a new family room, helping get a house ready for its owners’ unveiling party—scheduled for 36 hours later.

Connolly should be prematurely gray, but he looks younger than his 42 years. How does he cope with the stress?

“Drink heavily,” he deadpans, before revealing that he leaves the scheduling of everything from social events to, yes, home repairs to his wife. “She’s the project manager of our house,” he says.

While Connolly worked with subcontractors, Jenny invited over a kitchen designer recommended by architect Rill.

Though Jenny once worked as a graphic designer and has strong feelings about colors and textures, she knew she could use an expert’s guidance. Secretly Jenny was worried: She and Myron were stretching themselves financially and emotionally, and Jenny wanted to make sure everything she selected—from countertops to sinks to cabinets—was perfect.

Robin Lynch sat down at the Brilliant’s dining room table and perused Jenny’s stack of magazine clippings of dream kitchens.

Lynch gently steered Jenny away from the pristine, all-white kitchens Jenny seemed to be gravitating toward.

“When you have three children and you have white cabinets, you definitely have higher maintenance,” Lynch said, adding that in another 10 years, Jenny would need to hire someone to come in for a kitchen “refresher.”

Jenny’s favorite color is red, but Lynch doubted that would work for a kitchen. “In this market, no matter how long you plan to be here, the possibility of resale always exists,” Lynch advised. “It’s a very conservative town. People don’t want to do wild and crazy things.”

Lynch tossed out suggestions designed to make a cook’s job easier: Had Jenny thought about a “pot filler”—a cold water faucet installed next to the cooktop? And while Jenny likes the look of concrete countertops, Lynch warned they can easily soak up grease stains. Granite is the most durable of natural materials, Lynch said.

But granite is expensive. Maybe, the women decide, they could do just the island in granite. What about tile for the other countertops? Jenny asked.

“It’s a good option,” Lynch said. “It’s just not used around here. When I worked in Phoenix, it was everywhere.”

Lynch came up with rough figures: Cabinets will cost around $42,000. If they use tile on the countertops, it can be done for about $8,000. Appliances will run $15,000.

“We’re already over budget,” Jenny said.

Lynch began trimming: Panels are expensive, so they should definitely cover the dishwasher but not the refrigerator. Jenny wants two dishwashers but one would save space and money.

Jenny would save more money designing the kitchen herself, but she likes Lynch’s portfolio. She and Myron decide to hire Lynch—for now. If things get too expensive, they’ll have to let her go.

In mid-January the Brilliants got two pieces of sobering news. Subcontractors’ estimates came in, and plumbing and concrete costs were higher than expected. The prices for building materials continue to soar, plus the Brilliants have added features like a basement bathroom. It all means the price tag of the project has risen to $639,000, up from the $500,000 the Brilliants originally anticipated.

Jenny and Myron are determined to trim their construction costs, but so much is happening they can’t focus on it now. They move into her parents’ basement and ship most of their belongings to a storage company in Baltimore. Jenny scours the Internet and scores deals on bathroom fixtures. She and Myron settle on mustard-green cabinets for the kitchen. And on a bitter January day that holds the threat of snow, a demolition crew begins tearing down the back half of the Brilliant’s home.

Jenny and Myron are exhilarated—and terrified. Jenny’s parents are being helpful and kind, often offering to watch Eric while Jenny drives her older kids to school, but will friction develop after they’ve spent eight months living together?

Myron, who works long hours, has traded a walk to the Bethesda Metro for a lengthy commute. Already he feels its toll. Now he’s heading off on business trips to Hawaii, Europe and Japan. Jenny’s parents are preparing to drive to Florida for their own vacation.

Which means Jenny will be alone for weeks. How will she juggle naps and meals and basketball practices and gymnastics lessons? She’ll have to drive the kids to school in the morning, then fill four hours hanging around Bethesda before meeting Liza at the bus stop at noon. She’ll probably return to Potomac until it’s time to hurry back to Chevy Chase and collect Andrew at 3:10.

Jenny looks over at Eric and feels a rush of guilt: The poor kid will be living in his car seat.

Then, Jenny and Myron are reminded of why they’re renovating their home, rather than moving into a bigger place in another neighborhood. Two neighbors bring over keys to their homes. Another friend, whose daughter attends kindergarten at Rosemary Hills with Liza, offers to drive both girls to gymnastics. The parents of one of Andrew’s pals volunteer to watch Andrew after school until it’s time for his weekly basketball practice. How can they thank their neighbors for helping them through this difficult time? Jenny and Myron wonder.

For starters, they’ll host a really nice dinner party in their new home.

Chevy Chase writer Sarah Pekkanen has written for the Baltimore Sun, the Washington Post, Washingtonian and People.