I contact my colleague Charlie Schmit, and at first he's a tad weary on my marketing plan, but eventually he agrees. I found potential buyers for Janice's place, but their budget tops out at $185,000 and with renovations needed, the house isn’t a realistic option. Charlie and I can resolve this issue.
"Rodney and Danielle, thanks for meeting me today." I open the door to the house and Charlie is already there. "I know you toured the house about a month ago and liked what you saw but don’t have much room for renovations with your budget. I think I can convince the seller to let this place go for the $185,000." I really hope I’m right in saying that. In the whole scheme of things, what’s five thousand dollars, especially once Janice pays realtor fees, she’s earning a one hundred percent profit.
"That's wonderful, Kate, but that doesn't leave my clients any room to make any changes. They need to replace the carpeting and cabinets at a bare minimum." Their realtor, Gary, can be a tough sell. This isn’t my first time dealing with him.
"I realize the house is a fixer-upper and I came up with what I think is a win-win solution. Charlie Schmit is the lead contractor at Schmit Home Renovations.” Charlie introduces himself to everyone. “We’ve worked together many times. He's prepared to offer you a significant discount on renovations if you use him for this home."
"Miss Hayes, did you clear this with your boss? I'm not sure this is even legal." Gary never refers to me by my last name. He crosses his arms, and purses his lips disapprovingly. His light mustache is in complete opposition of his bald head. I don’t understand why he chooses to shave his hair off. And I mean all of it. I can practically see his skull.
"Yes, I spoke with her. This would not be written into the contract, but would be a private transaction between the Reinders and Schmit Home Renovations."
Gary is shaking his head and places his thumb on his chin. "I still don't like it."
"No one has to make a decision right now.” Danielle is holding onto Rodney’s arm. I can’t mistake the glow in her face. She’s sold on the idea. Rodney, well, he’s clenching his jaw and staring at Gary for direction. He’ll be more difficult to convince. “I know how much you two love this house, and my seller wants this off her hands. I may be able to talk her down to $180,000."
Nothing but crickets. Charlie isn’t even chiming in and he’s the one who will earn the extra business. I clap my hands together. "Tell you what. Why don't you and the Reinders take a walk around the property and make a list of what the renovations will be. You can speak with Charlie for a rough estimate of the costs. Everyone can discuss this privately and contact me if you’re interested in the offer. I’m available day and night."
Gary pulls his clients aside and I try not to listen to their whispers. They’ve turned their backs to me so I can’t read on their faces. A few minutes of discussion later, Gary returns while the Reinders remain in the kitchen.
"We’ll do as you suggest and work with Mr. Schmit. Please allow us to view the property on our own. I’ll call you tomorrow with my client’s decision."
We shake hands and I exit Janice’s home excited I’ve finally put my marketing mind to some use. Zumba on Saturday, a potential offer on Tuesday, and my birthday is on Thursday. A slight change of attitude and my week is already looking up.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Everyone should be jealous of me. I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than standing in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles. Okay, I can think of plenty of other things to be doing. Maybe, I'll actually be able to do some of them today. I take my number, 205, and find a chair on the right side of the waiting area. The digital sign shows number 150 is currently being served. Sigh. This is going to be a long day.
Every day I’m trying to accentuate the positive. Today, while I celebrate thirty-six years on this Earth with the associates of the DMV, I’m thankful I can take my job anywhere. I’ve been going into the office more often lately and sitting at my desk, so having the opportunity to use my laptop or iPad anywhere and still work is something I’m grateful for. Today I brought my iPad and once I’m connected to the free Wi-Fi, I scroll through my email.
Two full days have passed since I met with Gary and the Reinders. That sounds like a band name, I think as I scan the from column searching for his name. Nothing. I check my phone and no missed calls. Gary told me to expect an answer Tuesday. Well, Tuesday has come and gone. I’m channeling my positive energy, though, and convince myself I’ll hear a “Yes!” today.
"Is this seat taken?" A gentleman who must stand at least, if not over, six feet tall, points to the solid blue chair next to me.
"No." I snatch my purse off the chair and wrap the strap around my knee. "Please, sit down."
He’s still much taller than me when he’s seated. I tap my tablet to brighten the now dimmed screen, but he interrupts me before I can begin working again. ”We sure are blessed with a beautiful day today."
Small talk is awkward. Why am I forced to hold a conversation with someone I’ve only known for the ten seconds it’s taken me to move my purse? Is there some sort of obligation to speak with whomever sits next to me? He is right, though. For mid-February the thirty-eight degree temperature is rare. The sun is shining and the snow is beginning to melt, the promise of Spring lingering in its aftermath. Though living in Wisconsin, I know better than to assume this means winter is over. We could very well drop into the twenties, teens, or even negative wind chills with another foot of snow in a matter of days.
"We sure lucked out,” I agree with him. Now can I go back to what I was doing?
"Well I, for one, am not going to complain. I don't like to complain anyway." He crosses his legs and folds his hands in his lap.
"I don't think anybody likes to complain.” Why? Why am I continuing this conversation? Shut up, Kate.
"Then why do they?"
I can’t believe he’s asking me this. Is he honestly searching for an answer? I’ll humor him with a response, and then bury my face in my electronics. ”I suppose because they’re frustrated and complaining is a way to voice that emotion."
He ponders my reply. Can I look away? No, that’s rude. He’s planning on saying something, so I scoot back in my chair and swing my arm around the back while he gathers his thoughts. “Yes, complaining is most certainly a response, and I suppose an acceptable one, but haven’t you heard the phrase ‘Be part of the solution, not the problem’?”
That’s precisely what I’m trying to do this past week and every day going forward. He doesn’t need my autobiography, though. “I’m Kate,” I respond instead, touching my hand to my chest before offering it to him to shake.
“AJ.” His hands are strong and warm. “Good to meet you. What are you in for?”
"What am I in for?" The DMV may be annoying and a pain, but it’s far from a prison cell, I’m sure.
“No one comes to the DMV to hang out. This may be the worst place on Earth."
"I thought you didn't complain." I hate to point out the obvious. Well, I don’t hate it. I’m not entirely against proving someone wrong.
"That wasn't a complaint. I'm only stating a fact." He straightens his posture and pulls his leg in further over his knee. His hand is firm against his kneecap, and I’m noticing how big his hands really are. Huge. My eyes move up his body and while he’s wearing a slightly baggy jacket, I can tell he’s fairly thin. His sandy brown hair is styled so the front lifts in an upswing, and he’s wearing thin glasses.
I’m familiar with his type. He’s not quite an Eeyore. No, not AJ. He doesn’t drown himself in sorrow and make people pity him. He’s a different type of downer. “Ah, right. You don’t complain. You only state facts. Much like people who claim they aren’t pessimists when they say something negative; they’re realists.”
He tosses his head back and laughs, a hearty one, straight up from his belly. "Good point, Kate. I never quite considered that spin on it.”
"Anyway, I'm here to get my license rene
wed." And sing “Happy Birthday” to myself. I think I’ll stop off for a big ice cream cone on the way home. Chocolate and vanilla. Maybe dipped again in chocolate. My stomach rumbles and I touch my hand to my tummy, hoping he didn’t hear.
"I wish you could just mail in for that."
"I agree. Trust me, I checked. Can’t I email a head shot? I can use the one on my business cards.” It’s not a bad photo, either. My hair is perfect, professionally done that morning, and my red blouse pops against the white background. I even brought out lipstick. I never wear lipstick.
"If they allowed that, I can imagine the selfies people would send in. The standard for a license would become the duck face.” He sucks in his cheeks and flattens his lips.
“Stunning look on you!” I pull myself back to get a better angle, and cover my mouth when a snort manages to find it’s way out. “Sorry but that face…”
“Not afraid to snort in public? That’s a nice quality to have.”
Is he flirting with me? No. He can’t be. He’s attractive in a Jim Halpert kind of way. I only saw a few episodes of The Office, but he seemed to be a funny guy. I mean, AJ is much more Jim than that Dwight character, and lock me away with a thousand cats if I ever find myself with a guy like that Ryan. “So, I told you my reason for being here. What are you in for?”
“My daughter is taking her driver’s test.”
"That's exciting." Okay, so he has a daughter. Old enough to drive. He doesn’t look much older than me, though most women my age already have children. Now I’m remembering how far away from that I am. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts!
He laces his fingers together and drops his hands to his lap. “Not for Dad. I’m a tad on edge. Talking with you has helped keep my mind off of it.”
Definitely flirting. I’ll be kind, but I’m not interested. Kellan and I just called it quits less than a week ago. I’m managing, but I’m not ready to move on yet.
“I’m glad it’s not snowing. I probably would have made her cancel and then I’d go on her hate list for a month until she got to take it again."
"I hate driving in the snow, so I totally understand."
"Are you working or engulfing yourself in social media?" He points to my tablet.
"I'm not really the social media type." Anything I involve myself in social media-wise is only for work. I dabble in Facebook, but I don’t understand Twitter, Snapchat, or any of the other things kids are doing these days. “I’m a realtor and thought I’d get some work done while I’m wasting away here.” They’re now serving number 190. I’m getting there. And surviving.
“I’m headed back to the office after she finishes her exam. I’m a marketing manager over at Clear Pen.”
AJ has earned my undivided attention. “My bachelor’s degree is in marketing, believe it or not.” And I’ve heard of Clear Pen. The company designs different promotional products.
"So why aren't you working in the field?”
“I like to think I am in a roundabout way. I assisted in running my family business for many years, which meant designing flyers and things, and in real estate, I need to be creative to sell homes. I try to utilize it as best I can.”
"Is marketing something you're still interested in?"
I never gave it much thought. Between the bed and breakfast and switching careers once I moved here, I kind of treat it all like Groundhog Day. Now that this question is being raised, I think about it for a moment. ”Yes, it is."
"Tell you what," he opens up his wallet and hands me a card. "We should meet up sometime for lunch."
I furrow my brow as I review the card. Is he asking me out on a date?
"A business lunch,” he clarifies. “Let’s chat about the direction you want to take your career.”
I'm holding the card in my hand and my mind flashes back to my early twenties when I was forced to choose between my dreams and a man. I chose the man and that didn't end well. Here’s my second chance. “I’d like that."
A young, blond girl races toward us with her hands in the air and she's jumping up-and-down. "Daddy, I passed! I passed!"
AJ hugs his daughter and gives me a nod before walking away.
Maybe the DMV isn't so bad after all.
••••••••••
Thirty minutes pass since AJ and his newly licensed daughter leave before my number is finally called. I jump up and almost drop my tablet on the floor, as though I won the lottery. I gather my things and rush to the counter before they tick to the next person.
The worker doesn't even lift her head as she asks, "How may I help you?"
I guess I should be happy she at least asked somewhat politely, but I don’t want to have a conversation with her 1980s perm. “I’m here to renew my drivers license."
"I'll need your current license and if you look into the machine I can test your eyes." I’m still discussing this with her hair, and she continues to push papers around and type on her computer.
I grunt as I start digging through my purse for my wallet. It’s in here somewhere. My hand pats around the bottom of the bag and I shove my tablet out of the way.
“All forms and paperwork must be ready by the time we call you."
"I'm sorry that I didn’t prep this an hour and a half in advance.” We finally make eye contact and her nostrils flare. I’ve gotten enough of her attention she’s now crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. Aha! I find my wallet and slide my license across the table to her. "I also will need to update my address.” I didn’t bother doing that when I moved since I knew I was getting an updated license soon.
“Present something with your current address, such as an energy bill or mortgage payment and I can do so.”
"Oh." I pretend to search my purse again, but I know it’s no use. Who carries those items with them? Someone who prepared, I guess. Had I known any of this was required, trust me, I’d be standing here with a new license already. ”I didn’t bring any of that with me."
"Then I can't help you." She’s back to ignoring me.
"Please. I waited well over an hour."
"There's nothing I can do. Rules are rules." Her shoulders are stuck in a shrugging motion. What’s it like to be a person who works with others on a daily basis with such a horrible attitude? I never claimed to be the most cheerful gal, but when it comes to my job, I put all my crap aside and focus on my customer.
This figures. Just my luck. I check the time. They close at 4:45. I can’t make it home and back again before then. Not if I’m required to take a new number. "If I log onto my account from my phone and show you, can you accept that?”
She shakes her head. "No. I need to scan a copy."
"Come on.” I pedal my legs and take note of her name tag so I can curse her name. Brenda. “Can I email it to your computer?"
“Nope.” She pops the “p,” which only makes me want to punch her in the nose. She’s lucky I’m not big on confrontation. For a customer service representative, she sure isn’t offering much in the way of assistance.
"This is the digital age!" I tighten my eyes shut and scrub my hands over my face.
“Please keep your voice down,” she scolds me. “Might I suggest next time you do this all digitally?"
I think my eyes are about to pop out of my head. ”Wait? What do you mean?"
"You can do most of this online. If you check our website, all paperwork is available to print and the requirements for a driver’s license renewal and change of address are listed.”
Ugh! This information would have been useful to me yesterday, or even this morning. Learning this now does nothing to help my case, except build my hatred for Brenda even more. “So there's nothing you can do for me today? So I don’t have to take more time away from the office to come here again?” Play into her sympathetic side, if she has one, which I doubt.
"Not unless you present all the paperwork I mentioned.”
This lady is impossible. Where do they find these people? I assume there is
a Most Horrible People Ever database somewhere. "Fine. Thanks for nothing."
I huff out of line, streamlining for the door. My phone rings as I push the door open and spill onto the sidewalk. "What?" I answer.
"Kate? It's Gary. Is everything okay?"
No, everything is not okay. After a horrid experience at the DMV I have to come back again. I misunderstood a kind gesture for flirtation. My butt is numb from sitting so long. This isn’t what he wants to hear, though. When people ask if everything is okay, they want you to answer yes so they can move onto the real topic of conversation. ”Everything is great, Gary. Thanks for asking. I had a few hang ups, so I thought maybe this was another one."
"Darn kids, right? Anyway, I hope I caught you at a good time."
"Yeah, yeah. Right now is perfect." I find my keys and get into the car, turning on the engine right away so I can turn on my seat heaters. Maybe the warm air will take the numbness out of my behind.
"I chatted with my clients for quite awhile last night. After much consideration, they've decided to make an offer — one I believe you will deem acceptable."
These words flip my frown into a grin and this entire trip no longer feels like a waste. I want to scream in joy, but instead jump up and down inside my car, shaking the vehicle, and pulling awkward stares from people inside the building and the few cautiously stepping past me. I don’t care. Finally! Over half a year on the market and this house will be off my hands. I can hardly believe it.
"That's wonderful, Gary! Thanks so much for calling and giving me the heads up. I'll wait for the offer and present it to my seller. As long as the purchase price is reasonable, I don't foresee any issues."
"I think you'll be pleased."
We disconnect and I press my phone into my chest, shrugging my shoulders to my ears. “Eek!” This deserves wine. Lots and lots of wine. And a double fudge brownie with chocolate ice cream. I know just who I want to share it with.
I swipe to my favorites and before my finger presses Kellan’s name, I stop short. He’s not my boyfriend anymore. When I have exciting news to share, he’s no longer the person I can go to. Kellan is the first person who comes to mind, and the only one I can’t call.
Sparing the Heart (Pastime Pursuits #3) Page 20
