By Sarah Pekkanen

This is the second in a series of articles chronicling the experiences of a Chevy Chase family as they undertake a major renovation on their house. In the first story, writer Sarah Pekkanen introduced readers to the Brilliants, their home and their excitement and anxiety about the renovation.

Just a few months ago, Jenny and Myron Brilliant decided to renovate their Chevy Chase home. Turns out, making that momentous decision wasn’t the hard part. Now, poised at the start of their renovation journey, they have begun to wonder: How did everything become so complicated?

In the beginning, the Brilliants spent hours fantasizing about ways to overhaul the 100-year-old farmhouse they’d bought in 1999: They’d rip out the ancient kitchen, extend a tiny bathroom, build a master bedroom, add walk-in closets, and create a playroom for their three young children. Their wish list went on and on.

They weren’t just going to expand their home. They were going to create a new way of life. “This will be a great gathering house,” promised their architect, Jim Rill, as Jenny and Myron imagined hosting big family dinners and holiday parties. Yet somehow, between their first tentative discussion about renovating and the point at which they’ve now arrived — the verge of signing a construction contract — doubts have begun to worm their way into the Brilliants’ minds.

Already, they’re scaling back: A finished basement is too expensive — so that guest bedroom and playroom they had originally envisioned are gone. They may eliminate the family room fireplace. Rill doesn’t even want Jenny to think about custom-made kitchen cabinets. Toughest of all, they haven’t heard yet if their contractor can begin work in November — and if it proves too cold to break ground this winter that could mean big delays.

What they have to focus on, the Brilliants keep reminding themselves, is the reward that lies a year or so into the future: A home that will be worth all their compromises and conflicts. Conflicts like when Jenny suggested buying a refrigerator for the basement storage area they’ll create. Myron thought their old refrigerator would be just fine.

“The old one!” says Jenny incredulously. “I have little cups I use to collect dripping water! And if the cups aren’t there, the water drips all over the floor! We’ll buy a new one at Sears!”

In the grand scheme of a $600,000- plus reconstruction, what’s the big deal about a refrigerator? Jenny thinks. She has an excellent eye for detail, and she wants things done right. This doesn’t exactly reassure Myron.

At one point during a September meeting with Rill and his designer Kay Kim, Rill points to a detailed, five-page budget that breaks down expenditures: $5,000 for light fixtures, $10,000 for kitchen appliances and so on. “You’ve got to follow that budget or go under budget, Jenny,” Myron stresses. “You’ve got to read that contract so you can go under budget.” Clearly, Myron feels Jenny might tweak their plans, selecting slightly nicer bathroom tiles, or upgrading their wood floors — suddenly, their entire budget will be shot.

Is it obvious yet that Myron has a law degree, while Jenny studied at a Manhattan art school? “Let’s not play into our stereotypes,” laughs Myron, who was giving Rill a list of his concerns about construction schedules and costs while Jenny, distracted by some samples in Rill’s office, enthuses, “Oh, that’s a pretty kitchen cabinet.”

Jenny and Myron’s diverse personalities will make Rill’s job easier. They’ll rein each other in, which means no one else will have to. This project is like a tripod, with three critical legs — the Brilliants, their architect and their contractor — all of whom must hold up their end to keep everything from collapsing.

That third leg belongs to Adam Prill, who runs a construction company on Fairmont Avenue in Bethesda, next to Positano’s restaurant. The Brilliants chose Prill partly because his price was $60,000 lower than the other contractor bidding on their project. They also liked his personality. Prill, who has more energy than a classroom of sixth-graders on the day before summer vacation, has achieved considerable success by the age of 40. He built several Metro stations — including Columbia Heights and Suitland — and served as senior project manager for the Holocaust Museum, his most cherished project.

By the time most people are stumbling toward the office coffeepot, Prill has usually put in a half-day’s work. Take a recent Thursday: He got up at 4 a.m., sorted through e-mail and other correspondence, “whipped out [a design for] a deck real fast,” then headed downtown for a breakfast meeting. By 10:30 a.m. he was back in his office, sipping coffee and talking about a career that began when he was 11 years old and used to tag along with his father, a structural engineer, to construction sites in the D.C. area. Prill is excited about the Brilliants’ project — and a bit apprehensive. “I’m an idealist,” he says carefully when asked to elaborate on his concerns. “I believe everyone should get along.”

He knows it doesn’t always happen. Say the tile guy is supposed to turn up on Monday — but doesn’t. One such delay can cause catastrophe in a finely tuned schedule, like a row of falling dominoes. “Try to set up a meeting with four of your friends — then multiply that by 20,” is how Prill describes the logistical struggle of organizing subcontractors and material shipments.

Even without delays, emotions often run high. Homeowners frequently begin to “want more,” says Prill — better materials, say, or bigger windows. Or architects might give an offhand price estimate that a client mistakes as a firm commitment. These kinds of conflicts can result in tension and stress.

It’s important that everyone involved in this project keeps communicating, Prill says. So far, the three teams have a solid rapport: Prill and Rill established a good working relationship on past projects, and Prill and Jenny were friendly acquaintances who both graduated from Churchill High School in Potomac in 1981. “Hopefully those common bonds will carry us through,” says Prill.

Jenny is also thinking about relationships. She’ll be the one responsible for overseeing the project, because Myron frequently travels for work. She knows that her tendency to want things to be beautiful — as well as her penchant for procrastination — will probably bother Myron. And when all the major burdens seem to fall on her shoulders, she knows she might become resentful, too.

Already, complications are bubbling up. Jenny and Myron had planned to live in their home during the entire reconstruction, but now the upcoming chaos has them thinking about moving in with Jenny’s parents in Potomac for the first month or two. It will feel strange for Jenny to straddle the dual roles of parent and child — plus, her folks love to entertain. “We’ll be crimping their style,” she says.

Moving means Jenny will have to fight traffic to get her kids to school every day, when from her own house her son can simply walk to Chevy Chase Elementary and her daughter to a nearby bus stop for Rosemary Hills Elementary.

Though construction has yet to begin, the Brilliants are already overwhelmed by how much there is to think about. Jenny has a lengthy list of chores — visit tile showrooms to get ideas about color and texture, pick out bathroom fixtures, look into wood flooring and cabinets, start thinking about packing. Myron, meanwhile, has been gathering old W-2 forms and bank statements so they can get approval for a loan. Rill advises them to pace themselves as they check things off their to-do lists.

Toward the end of summer, however, something happened that made the furor over their renovation fade into the background.

At 8:30 one evening, Jenny was driving with her children down Stanford Street in Chevy Chase during a violent, record-breaking rainstorm. Just a few blocks from home, she saw water pooling at the bottom of a hill. She tried to drive through it but her minivan stalled. She got out, and suddenly, the water was rushing up past her knees, pouring into her van. She phoned Myron on her cell phone while a passerby called out that police were on the way.

Jenny carried her older son and daughter to the safety of a neighbor’s porch, then rushed back to get her 15-month-old baby. Luckily, there was Myron, reaching into the car, helping her bring little Eric to safety.

Everything snapped into perspective. Her family was safe, and that was all that mattered. The next morning, when she opened her trunk, Jenny discovered the architectural plans for the renovation. They were a blurry, sodden mass.

She refused to consider it a bad omen.

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