by Debby Mayne
“It has beige appliances. Can you believe that? And all the drawer handles are a hideous fake wood. It’s awful. That place needs to be completely gutted before we can even consider moving into it.”
I have to hold back the laughter. “They were built in the nineties, so what did you expect?”
“Don’t those people ever watch HGTV?” The serious tone in her voice lets me know she’s devastated. “And I just scratched the surface.”
“You mean there’s more?” I ask half jokingly.
“Oh, believe me, it just gets worse.” I listen as she goes on and on about the stark-white walls that look like a government office, the basic builder’s beige carpet, and the ceiling fans with rattan blades. “There’s not even a dimmer switch on the lighting. We expected to have to do some work, but that place is a total disaster. I’m afraid we’ll need to put a lot of money into it if we decide to buy it.”
“Actually . . .” I let my voice trail off as I try to decide whether or not it’s a good idea for my cousins to live in the same neighborhood. Then I sigh. I have to share my wisdom, or I’ll never be able to live with myself. “Actually, Sara, those are all minor cosmetic issues. It sounds to me like the only big expenses will be replacing the appliances and carpet.”
“We hate carpet.”
“Then you can replace it with wood or tile. The home-improvement stores have sales all the time.”
“How do you know all this stuff, Shay?” She pauses. “Oh, that’s right. You’re old.”
I hear Sally fussing at her in the background. She covers the mouthpiece and says something that comes across muffled before getting back with me.
“I’m sorry, Shay. I wasn’t thinking. You’re not old, just seasoned and experienced.”
I laugh. “Yes, I have bought and sold a place or two. Would you like some help with this?”
“That’s what we were hoping you’d say.” I can practically hear her smiling. “What do we do next?”
“How many places have y’all looked at?”
“Just the one. Why? How many are we supposed to look at?”
I remember last time I went looking at real estate, I must have seen several dozen places. “Don’t you want to look some more before you settle on something?”
“But what if someone else buys the condo?”
They have so much to learn about business. Then again, looking at their success, I realize they obviously know some things that I’ve missed.
“Have y’all talked to your parents about this?” Their mama and daddy will be furious with me for advising their daughters if they don’t agree with what I tell them.
“Are you kidding? No way.”
“Maybe you should before you do anything rash.”
“They’ll just try to talk us out of it.”
Maybe that’s what I should do, but I can’t. If those girls are determined to buy their own place, nothing will stop them. Besides, I actually agree with them.
“Will you please tell us what to do next?” Sara’s begging voice stabs me right in the heart. “If you don’t, we’ll wind up making a humongous mistake, and that would be terrible.”
“Of course I’ll help you. What do you want me to do?”
“We have an appointment to see the condo again in about an hour and a half.” Her tone is much lighter and more cheerful now. “Sally told her that we need our aunt to look at it.”
“Your aunt?” It takes me a moment to realize she’s talking about me. I suppose I am old enough to be their aunt, since their daddy is my first cousin. “Oh, okay. Why don’t y’all come to my place first, and we can walk over there.”
After I hang up, I think about the big old mess I’m about to get myself into. It’s not like I can hide after helping them. Not only do their parents still live in the Pinewood area, I won’t be able to avoid them at the upcoming reunion.
I arrive at my place mere moments before they pull into my driveway. Both girls hop out of the car with energy that I don’t ever remember having. This makes me feel as old as they think I am, but they rush to me for hugs.
“Thank you so much for doing this, Shay.” Sally’s voice is tight with nervous excitement. “We’d be completely lost without your help.”
Now Sara speaks up. “Hey, Sally, remember what Mama said about too much gushing.” Sara turns to me. “Mama says we gush way too much and it makes people uncomfortable.”
Sally gives me an apologetic look. “Yeah, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, especially when you’re being so good to us. But you’re being such a huge help, and—”
Sara groans. “There you go again.”
I smile at both of them. “Let’s go inside for a minute before we look at the place you want to show me.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re on our way to the condo that’s for sale. As soon as we round the corner, Sally points to it. “That’s it, right there.” She turns to me with a smile. “The one with the sign in the window.”
“You’ll be directly across the lake from me.”
Before any of us can say another word, the door opens, and I see the grinning face of Conrad Fulton, one of my former classmates. “Hey, ladies.”
Sally steps up. “Where’s Jolene?”
“She couldn’t make it, so she sent me instead.” Conrad tips his head toward me. “So how’s the food business treating you, Shay?”
“Just fine.”
Conrad is one of those geeky guys none of the girls wanted to date in high school, but after he got out and started his real estate empire, he suddenly became the hottest catch in town. He wound up with the girl who won all the beauty pageants, and last I heard, they had three stair-stepper children, two years apart. Fortunately for them, they got their looks from their mama.
He steps out onto the porch and gestures toward the entryway. “After you, ladies.”
As I walk through, I notice a lot of extra touches that my place doesn’t have, including wainscoting, crown molding, and a kitchen that opens to the great room. If I were looking for myself, I wouldn’t hesitate to put a contract on it.
“See what we’re talking about?” Sally says. “It’s a huge mess, isn’t it?”
I glance over at Conrad, who appears amused, so I turn to Sally. “I wouldn’t call it a huge mess, but it could use a bit of updating, I suppose.” I stop in the middle of the front room and take in all the detail. “It’s really nice for a starter home.”
“Starter home?” Sara gives me a curious look. “What’s that?”
I glance at Conrad and notice that he has to stifle his laughter. I don’t respond. Instead, I shake my head.
“Does it have good bones?” Sally asks.
“Good what?” I look at Conrad, and he laughs.
“That’s what the Realtors on HGTV say if all the updates a place needs are cosmetic.” Sally gives him one of her duh looks.
Conrad nods. “Oh. Yes, I think it has excellent bones.” That sounds strange, but I get it.
We walk into the kitchen, where I’m stunned by all the cabinets. This is a gourmet cook’s paradise.
“Aren’t those the most hideous appliances you’ve ever seen?”
I remember when this bisque color was the rage. “They’re not hideous, but stainless steel would probably be more to your liking.”
Sally nods, but Sara shakes her head. “I like black appliances.”
“Stainless looks better.” Sally flutters her hands around. “It’s all shiny and pretty.”
“But black looks sleeker.”
I glance in Conrad’s direction and see that his arms are folded as he studies the appliances. “Have you girls seen the black-and-stainless combination? You’ll get both sleek and shiny with that combination.”
“Ooh.” Sara’s face lights up. “I think we might like that.”
“Now that we have that settled, let’s look at the rest of the place.” Conrad leads the way through the entire downstairs and toward the screened-in area that overlooks the lake. “This
is one of the few units with a wraparound back porch. Over here, you have a Jacuzzi, and over here . . .” He walks around the corner and gestures. “Here you have a gas grill. It’s built in, so it stays.”
“Why would we want someone else’s used grill?” Sally makes a face. “That would be disgusting.”
I’m practically drooling over this place. “Can we see the bedrooms?” I ask.
“Sure, come on back inside. I think you’ll like some of the things the current owners did when they first moved in.”
Once we’re upstairs in the loft area, I look around at the wall-to-wall bookshelves. “Those would totally have to come out,” Sara says. “They’re taking up too much wall space.”
“I think it’s perfect.” An idea flits through my head. I quickly clamp my mouth shut, but I can see that Conrad is aware of my reaction. In fact, from the look on his face, I suspect he’s reading my mind.
“I have an idea.” He turns to the twins. “What do you think of Shay’s condo?”
“We love it.” Sara turns to Sally, and they both nod. “That’s the kind of place we’re looking for.”
He smiles at me. “What you could do is sell them your place, and you can buy this one.”
Now I know why Conrad is so successful. He is able to read people during their weakest moments.
Ever since that morning when I worked on the sales floor and Digger went to Shay’s office, he’s felt guilty as all get-out. He keeps trying to make it up to me. I reckon I should be happy, but I feel guilty—probably even more than he does.
“What’s wrong with you, Puddin’? Haven’t I said I was sorry enough? I told you I won’t ever do that to you again.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just that—” I almost blurt what’s really bugging me, but I quickly come to my senses. This doesn’t seem like the right time to spring the fact that I have a job on him. “I have a lot on my mind.”
The wrinkles in his forehead grow deeper as he looks at me with more concern than I deserve. “Do you think you might have that disease women get after their babies are born?”
“Disease?”
“What’s it called? Postpartum depression?”
I shake my head. “No, the only time I had that was after Trey. After that, I was too busy to even think about myself.” I scrunch up my face. “Besides, postpartum depression doesn’t usually last three years.”
“Then what’s going on?” The concerned look on his face continues to deepen.
I can’t continue letting him worry, so I take his hands in mine as I conjure up something he might believe. It’s not that I’m lying to be mean. Forgive me, Lord, but I have no choice. “I’ve been thinking about what school Jeremy will go to. There’s a waiting list for the new charter school.”
“What on earth is a charter school?” Digger looks at me like I just sprouted a new head.
Since I’m not sure what a charter school is, I sigh. “Kids get better educations at those places.”
“Says who?”
I shrug. “I saw it on the news.”
“I don’t know about that. The other kids did just fine without charter schools. Besides, why are you so fired up about that now? He still has a couple more years of preschool before we have to worry about getting him into the fancy school.” He pauses. “How much do these charter schools cost?”
“I’m not sure, but I think they’re free.” Not only am I not sure about that, I’m not sure about anything. In fact, I’m not even sure Pinewood has charter schools. But I did see something on the news about them.
“Tell you what, Puddin’. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll look into this tomorrow.”
I smile at my husband who clearly loves me, even after all these years and all the pounds I’ve put on around my hips. “That would be nice.”
“Okay, so now that we’ve settled that, why don’t we cheer up and try to enjoy the evening?” Without waiting for me to say something, he asks, “What are we having for dessert?”
Sometimes I worry about Digger. Before he deals with any kind of conflict, he wants something sweet, like a big old piece of pie or cake. And if it’s a big problem, it has to be topped with ice cream or whipped cream.
After a heaping helping of cherry cobbler with a plop of ice cream on top, Digger sits down in front of the TV to catch up on some of the shows he’s recorded, while I go to our bedroom and figure out what I’m going to wear to work for the rest of the week. I’d love to buy something new, but I don’t want to alarm Digger by bringing something home. Maybe if he thinks he’s the one buying me a new outfit . . .
After I have my work wardrobe laid out, I march right out to the living room to talk to my husband about gettin’ me something new to wear. Digger’s eyes are closed, and his mouth is hanging open, while a soft, rhythmic snore floats through the air. I reach for the remote and press the Off button, knowing that’ll wake him up.
He jumps. “What’d you go and do that for?” he asks. “I was watching something.”
“What were you watching?” I hold the remote just out of his reach. “Do you even know what was on?”
He scrunches his face, then slowly shakes his head. “I’ve had a long day, Puddin’. I’m exhausted.”
I’m thinkin’ this isn’t the best time to bring it up, but I still want that outfit. “Please just focus for a minute—I’d really like some new clothes.”
“Then get them. It’s not like you go out and buy everything your little heart desires. If you need something new to wear, just write a check for it.”
My heart melts. I don’t know why I thought he’d say anything different. Perhaps it’s my own guilt that’s kicking in. “That’s okay. I don’t really need anything.”
“No, Puddin’. You deserve something new. So please get yourself something.” He leans over enough to get his wallet out of his back pocket, pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, and hands it to me. “Get yourself something pretty.”
For a moment, I wonder what planet my husband’s been living on for the past twenty years. But I quickly remember that this is the best outcome I can expect. There’s no reason for him to know the price of women’s clothes—especially the prices at La Chic, which is where I plan to shop. I’ll add a little of my own money and use my employee discount on something Amanda will have on the clearance rack.
I’ve managed to save about forty dollars, five at a time, and I’ve put it in a special corner of my billfold. With this twenty from Digger, I can get one of the clearance print tops and some earrings or a sundress that I can wear with last year’s purple shrug.
I go back to our room to put the money in my billfold, but before I get there, the house phone rings. It’s Trey, who moved into a two-bedroom apartment with three of his buddies from high school. At first, they were all enrolled in the community college, but living with three other guys proved to be too difficult for any of them. So one by one, they dropped out of college and increased their hours at their jobs.
“Hey, son, what’s up?”
“Mama, I’m starvin’.”
“I bought you groceries last week.”
“I know, but the guys are a bunch of pigs, and they ate it all up.”
I can tell there’s something else he’s afraid to tell me, and I suspect I know what it is. “Do you want to move back home?”
He makes a few grunting sounds, letting me know his pride is getting in the way.
“Trey, answer me now. Do you want to move back home or not?” I hate the fact that I’ve gotten used to him not living at home and enjoy not having his mess all over the place.
“Yeah.”
My mind races with all the things I’ll need to do to get his room ready. It’ll take me at least a couple of days, since I promised Amanda I’d help with inventory this week. “When?”
“Now.”
I blow out a breath. “Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want your daddy to come help you get your stuff?”
“All your furniture?”
“No, just my clothes. Look, Mama, I can’t talk about it now. I’m tired and hungry, and I don’t know what else to do.”
How can I say no to my firstborn child? He thinks he’s an adult—or at least he did a few months ago—but he’s still my baby.
“Okay, you can come tonight, but you’ll have to sleep on the couch until I get everything out of your old room.”
We barely hang up when I hear the key in the front door. He walks in looking more pitiful than anyone I’ve ever seen living on the street.
“What happened, Trey?” I rush to my son and put my arms around his stiff shoulders. As the seconds and then minutes pass, he relaxes. I pull him to the sofa. “Tell me all about it.”
I’m not sure how it happened, or if it’s a good decision, but I’m now under contract for the condo on the other side of the lake, and the twins are buying my place. Since Conrad is handling both deals, and there’s no negotiation going on since I offered full price for the one I’m buying, he’s cutting his commission in half and splitting it with Jolene.
The whole thing caught me off guard. At first, I had buyer’s remorse, but now that I’ve gotten used to the idea of having a Jacuzzi, built-in grill, wraparound porch, and more kitchen cabinets than I’ll ever be able to fill, I’m excited.
And now the twins have to be out of their apartment, and they have no place to go. As much as I value my alone time, what kind of cousin would I be if I didn’t ask them to go ahead and move in? Plus, they’re going to close on my place before I close on the new one, so I’ll need a place to stay for a little while until the sellers get out of the unit I’m purchasing.
Of course, after I give them the go-ahead, they don’t hesitate for a single second before hiring a truck, getting a bunch of their pals to help move them, and piling everything into my living room.
It’s been a long time since I’ve lived with anyone, and it’s much worse than I remember. Not only do I not have the peace and quiet I’m used to, but the kitchen is always in a state of disarray. I bite my tongue, force a smile, and remind myself that this is temporary.
