what is the word

This was New Furniture weekend. Laura & I found a big beautiful old mirror at the junk store in Bushwick. I paid for it & left it there; went to meet Sara & Leyla for brunch; dragged Sara back to the junk shop with me after we ate. I'd fallen in love with an old black desk with tarnished gold handles & a red interior with a (working) fluorescent light. Sara wanted a giant Van Gogh-ish painting in a crumbling frame & a big brass coat rack. We were thinking about the transportation of these items when I heard a voice say "Kat." It turned out to be my friend Will, & when I told him our dilemma he said, "My truck's outside if you need a ride home," just as simple as that.
So I asked the old Hasidic owner if he could have someone wheel the desk out for me. When I showed him which one it was, he took one look at it & corrected me.
"This piece?" he said. "This is a secretary."
So now I'm the owner of a secretary, of all things. We took the drawers out on the street so it would be less heavy to take up the stairs. We were surprised to see that despite its rather '50s-ish appearance a stamp inside the middle drawer said "1926."
Thanks to Will's truck I also lugged home a gorgeous lamp of (like the secretary) black & gold, as well as the mirror & some odds & ends that included a salt shaker so old the print was rubbed almost completely away & a beautiful skirt a few sizes too big.
Sometime during the transportation process the mirror backing must have been scratched because when we got it inside we saw a long black line about the width of a crayon's mark going across the center of it. That was quite sad. I also realized I didn't have anywhere, really, to put the secretary. Yesterday I looked at my new things -- the marred mirror, the homeless secretary, the lamp without a shade, the salt shaker without its pepper mate, the skirt that needed taking in -- & still felt like I’d gotten a deal. Scoring a ride home in a truck from a junk shop is a piece of luck in itself, its own rare gem serendipitously uncovered.
So the skirt's at the tailor, the salt shaker is another tchotchke on the mantle, the secretary will learn to blend in, & a lamp shade will be bought. The only sad part is the mirror. I think it might be fucked. If anyone knows anything about vintage mirror restoration, I'd be much obliged...