A new problem arose during the second week. It seemed that the agents were required to take turns working Sundays, answering the phone, and Ann was told she was on call the next weekend. Fearful of Phillip’s reaction, she said nothing until Sunday at breakfast. This time she felt that however angry he got, he was justified. Families always spent Sundays together—at least happy families did.
“I have to go to the office,” she said guiltily when she finished her coffee. Phillip actually took the announcement calmly, but Evie said, “Gee, Mommy, you’re never home anymore.”
Ann tried to sound cheerful. “Well, Evie, you can have fun with Daddy and Grandpa. You know you always do.”
“But it would be more fun if you were here too, Mommy.”
Fighting back tears, Ann smiled and said, “Next Sunday. Is that okay?”
Evie, usually so amenable, wore a mutinous expression. “No, it’s not okay.”
After breakfast, when Phillip took Evie off to pick up the paper, Ann said to Simon, “Evie is really upset about my going to the office today.”
“Well, Ann, there have been a lot of changes for her recently.”
“I guess my working has been pretty hard on her.”
“She also has started school.”
“Well, that’s true, but I don’t think that’s it. She loves first grade, Simon. I’m amazed how well she has adjusted. I had been afraid that as an only child she had been too sheltered. No, it’s my working that’s bothering her, and I feel awful about it.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t say this, Ann, but I feel as if Evie is taking her cue from Phillip. It’s so obvious that he hates your working.”
“Oh, no, Simon! He hasn’t actually said anything.”
“Evie is a sensitive little girl, and close to her father. I think she’s just echoing what she senses in Phillip.”
Ann was silent for a minute. Then she said, “Even if that’s true, the tension between Phillip and me is still bad for her.”
Simon reached out and covered Ann’s hand with his own. “Ann, all children have to learn life isn’t perfect. So what if Evie knows that you and Phillip occasionally differ? There’s nothing wrong with your working. You’re doing it for all of our sakes. I just wish I could do more,” he finished a little sadly.
“Oh, Dad, please! I couldn’t even think about working unless I knew I could leave Evie with you.” She threw her arms around Simon’s neck and hugged him.
Although it was heartening to know that she had Simon’s support, Ann was still feeling blue when she reached the office. She barely glanced up when a young couple came in asking about a flat that the agency had advertised for rent on Baker Street.
Nervously, Ann dialed the owners and asked if it was available for viewing. It was and before Ann knew it, the couple was signing on the dotted line. Ann felt as though she had climbed Mount Everest.
That night, at dinner, she couldn’t help exclaiming, “Guess what? I made my first commission today.”
“Wonderful, Ann!” Simon cried.
“Congratulations, honey,” Phillip said quietly.
Friday of the following week, Ann brought home her first check. After splitting the 5 percent commission with the office, she received the munificent sum of $20.00. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Twenty dollars certainly was not worth the sacrifices she was making, but it was a beginning.
As time passed, life at the Coulters’ seemed to settle down. If Evie and Phillip weren’t thrilled with her job and long hours, they were at least resigned to it.
The first month she made $80. The month after she made $150. In her third month on the job, Ann sold her first house. The commission on that, along with those from the rental of two large stores and several flats, made Ann’s pay envelope gratifyingly thick, even after splitting her 5 percent with Violet. It looked like she was going to be a success in her new career.
She discovered she loved the challenge of making deals and had a real talent for negotiating. One night she came home with a savings bank book and asked Phillip to sign the joint account. She wanted him to understand that anything she was doing was for the two of them.
Phillip took the book and in a quick, slashing motion signed his name. Then he silently handed it back. Ann sighed, but she refused to let him spoil her mood. If he didn’t appreciate her efforts then, he would later. She was finding that she could handle the demands of both her job and her family far better than she would have imagined. Except for the Sundays she had to work, Phillip hardly noticed that his wife had a job at all. Weekends when she was home they planned all sorts of family outings. When the weather was warm they often went to Ocean Beach, where Evie could dip her toes in the icy waves and build sand castles. Other times, they took a picnic lunch to Golden Gate Park, and once they capped a day of exploring on foot with a rare dinner out, at Chang Lee’s Imperial Palace.
Looking around at the happy faces, Ann began to hope that things might work out after all. During the week she continued at her job with increasing enthusiasm. She observed and copied the other agents’ techniques, while listening carefully to everything that went on in the office. She began to make call after call, following up every lead. No longer was she content to sit and wait for clients to come to her. Leaving nothing to chance, she contacted all the merchants in the area, so that they would start to give her tips on commercial properties.
There were other agents who were equally aggressive, but Ann Coulter had a sweetness which disarmed both clients and competitors. Within months, she was outselling every other agent at Cunningham’s except Violet herself. Violet watched her, pleased at the success of her “find,” and began to consider making her office manager.
Ann, however, had come to a decision. She realized she was never going to get rich working for someone else. Not only was she in competition with the other seven agents in the office, she had to split all her commissions with Violet, though she was the one making all the sales. Without telling anyone Ann resolved to get a brokerage business and eventually go out on her own. She bought several books on real estate law and financing and began to study diligently. To avoid upsetting Phillip, she would wait each night until he had fallen asleep, and go out to the kitchen to read until her eyes ached from the harsh light on the white pages. When she worked alone on Sundays, Ann pored over the files and made lists of contacts which might be helpful in the future.
She became even more efficient at work, and Violet began to experience a twinge of doubt about her protégée. Who would have thought this pretty, gentle housewife might turn into a threat?
Meanwhile, Ann was hoping to work out better transportation for herself so she could investigate more properties.
“Phillip, darling,” she began one night at dinner, “I’ve been thinking. You know, you don’t really use your car during the day all that much. Most of the time you just park it in the morning and don’t touch it until you’re ready to go home.”
“So?”
“I was wondering if you’d mind if I started to use it. I could take you to work and pick you up at the end of the day. That way I could use the car to take clients around, and it wouldn’t inconvenience you at all. Would you mind that?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I would mind.”
“But, Phillip! I really need a car—lots of clients don’t have one. Besides, it looks more professional for me to use my own.”
“Perhaps you are not aware of it, my dear, but I am a lawyer and I don’t care for the idea of your dropping me off each morning as if I were a kid being driven to school.”
Ann was suddenly angry, hearing the smugness and finality in his voice. There was nothing demeaning in what she was suggesting; they weren’t the only family in town who had to share one car. She tried again, as patiently as possible. “Phillip, lots of men are driven to work by their wives. Since I need the car and you don’t, I really can’t see why I can’t use it.”
“You don’t have to see why. You just can’t.”
He got up from the table, grabbed his coat, and slammed the door as he stormed out of the apartment.
For a while, as Phillip strode down Geary Boulevard, he refused to acknowledge that he was being unreasonable. Damn it, he wasn’t going to let Ann push him around. The car was his! He was doing his best to make a living, and if it wasn’t enough for Ann, she could leave and find someone else. But as he began to calm down, he was forced to admit he was in the wrong. Little as he wanted to know about Ann’s job, the fact was that she had one. She was working hard and she never taunted him about his inadequacies. Instead, she continued to perform all her roles as wife, mother, helpmeet, as well as ever, and without complaining. Turning, he ran nearly all the way home, where he found Ann in the living room, her eyes red from crying.
Quickly, he went to her and took her in his arms. “Darling, I’m sorry. I was wrong. Of course you can have the car. I apologize for being nasty about it.”
Ann clung to him and said penitently, “Oh, Phillip, don’t make me feel worse than I already do. It was wrong of me to think of taking it.”
“No, Ann—” Phillip began, but she continued.
“I’ve thought it over and I’ve got a better idea. Let’s just buy another car. We’ve got enough in our savings account for a down payment, and I think that after all these years, we deserve to treat ourselves a little.”
Phillip noticed with a pang that she said “our” not “my” savings account. The next morning he took her to a dealer where she bought a shiny maroon used Chevrolet, for which she paid eight hundred dollars cash. Ann disliked raiding her precious savings account, but she reminded herself that the car would boost sales and translate into increased commissions.
She was right—it did. And Ann was able to turn her attention to her primary goal—buying a house. Ever since she had been a little girl she had dreamed of a home of her own. Now she realized that the only way they would ever achieve a little security was to stop pouring rent money down the drain every month.
In her spare time, Ann began checking all the inexpensive houses that came on the market. There was little she and Phillip could afford, but then one day a miracle happened. Ann had become very friendly with the manager of a bank branch on Chestnut Street. Often, he had given her tips on various properties in financial trouble, and in return she had steered many of her clients to him. Now he told her there was a fabulous deal about to become available. The owner of a small house near Fort Mason had defaulted on his payments, and the bank had taken possession of it. Although the house had been sold him for $10,000, the outstanding mortgage was for only $6,500, and since in the present depressed market it was not likely to sell for much more, Ann might be able to get it simply by taking over the mortgage—with little or no down payment necessary.
Ann was almost beside herself with joy. She didn’t stop to wonder whether Phillip would share her excitement. The moment they had finished eating dinner, she said, “Darling, something wonderful has happened.” Excitedly, she described the many virtues of the house, and explained how cheaply it could be purchased.
“So, darling,” she said, “would you like to see the house tonight?”
“Tonight?”
Somehow he didn’t seem as excited as she had thought he would. Anxiously, she said, “I think we should, Phillip. It’s such a good deal that we need to move fast.”
Evie jumped off her chair and ran to Ann. “Can Grandpa and I go too, Mommy?”
Ann hugged her. “Of course, darling. This house will be for all of us.”
They drove over to Bay Street and in the soft evening light the house looked even better the second time around. A red-tile roofed stucco bungalow, it was typical for the Marina area. There was a living room with an Italianate composition marble fireplace, a kitchen and breakfast room giving onto a dining room, three bedrooms, and a single bathroom leading off the central hall. Best of all was the sunroom which looked out into the backyard, where dahlias grew along the fence.
When they finished wandering from room to room, Ann realized Phillip had not made any comment at all.
“Darling, you haven’t said a word! What do you think?” Her voice was so eager and excited, her face so alive, Phillip didn’t see how he could say no even though he felt the mortgage payments might be more than they could handle, even with Ann’s earnings. Just then they heard Evie shout, “Grandpa! Look at this jungle gym!”
What could Phillip say? Thank you, I’m indebted to you? No, there must be no hint of resentment in his words. He couldn’t deny her this happiness. Forcing enthusiasm into his voice, he said, “I think it’s a hell of a buy, Ann.”
“It is, isn’t it? So do you think we should take it?”
“You’ve already set your heart on it, haven’t you?”
Ann nodded ruefully. “I guess I have.”
“Okay. What can I say?”
“Oh, Phillip!” Ann threw her arms around her husband, never noticing the defeated look in his eyes.
A month later, the Coulter family had moved in. Evie was thrilled with the backyard and Simon reveled in his new room. Even Phillip was so pleased with the space and privacy that he almost forgot that the house had been Ann’s idea, not his.
That night before going up to bed they stood arm in arm in the garden. “I don’t think I’ve told you lately how much I love you, Phillip,” Ann said, smiling up at him. “Do you know something? I think we must be the luckiest people in the whole world.”
Phillip gazed into her eyes. All he could see there was sincerity. She really did believe her words. She bore him no ill will for any of his failings.
So why couldn’t he believe it too?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AS SOON AS THEY were settled, Ann turned her attention back to her career. She was almost ready to take her broker’s exam. Meanwhile, she carefully studied the market. It was 1957—a period of nationwide recession. Realtors were keeping going mainly through their rentals. Houses and flats were still selling reasonably well in the Marina, but buyers were resistant and choosy. Ann reasoned that that meant it was generally a buyer’s market, and outside the Marina there might be great opportunities to pick up property cheaply. What she hoped to find was a piece of property she could buy and then rent until it appreciated in value. Then she would sell. Each day she read the papers, searching out foreclosures, but nothing seemed quite right. She considered a storefront with two upstairs apartments on Union before deciding it was a bit overpriced.
For several years the Union Street area had been sprouting boutiques and specialty stores which were supplanting the old groceries and shoe repair shops. Perhaps it had already passed the point where one could get in on the ground floor and make a killing.
Yet, for weeks afterward, Ann kicked herself for passing up the deal. Perhaps she was being foolishly cautious. It didn’t help that she couldn’t discuss the prospect with Phillip, but she knew that it would only open up the sensitive subject of who controlled their finances. She hesitated talking to Violet too, though she trusted the older woman’s judgment. Ann wondered from time to time if Violet really liked her or just tolerated her because she was a good agent. While Violet was never unpleasant, there seemed to be a sharp note in her voice after Ann had closed a particularly difficult deal.
She would have been astonished to realize that Violet was envious. Here she had knocked herself out for almost thirty years, and Ann Coulter had come along and set the office on its ear in three. The strange thing was that Violet couldn’t help but like Ann, who, to give her credit, never seemed to trade on her looks or charm when dealing with people.
Ann had almost decided to go to Violet with her problem when the exact piece of property came on the market. As New York was known for its brownstones, San Francisco had its Victorians, their pointed, elegant silhouettes clinging to the contours of its fabled hills. But since the twenties, many of these charming houses had fallen into disrepair. Between the late 1930s and the 1950s, people ignored them in favor o
f the new buildings with all the modern conveniences, and the smart money moved to the Peninsula and Marin County.
Ann had an instinctive feeling that ultimately the notion of living right in the city would revive. She noticed that urban renewal had become a political issue and that the city council was talking about preserving “our heritage.”
Late one afternoon, Ann was walking through the Western Addition. She had been checking out foreclosures, and, looking up from the list, she saw a huge Victorian house. The façade was incredible, with graceful bay windows, a profusion of fretwork, and a curved portico supported by columns, all of which somehow created a harmony of exuberant excess. To Ann’s discerning gaze the house was magnificent, for all the broken windows, the grime, and the ominously sagging front porch.
She picked her way around the back, avoiding the old tires and oil cans which littered its gravelled driveway. It had a stone foundation, so it probably hadn’t settled too much. The plumbing had probably never been modernized, but at least from the outside, it didn’t look hopeless.
An old woman shuffled out from the house next door and called out, “What are you doing? Going to buy that old wreck?”
Ann smiled pleasantly without replying.
“That’s the old Hampton house, you know,” the woman said. “Used to take up the whole block. He was in hardware.”
“Oh, yes, Hampton Hardware! I remember that from when I was a little girl.”
“Well, that’s where the old moneybags lived. James Hampton, his name was. The house is real pretty inside. Brass hardware, beautiful floors. That is, if the folks who’ve been living here haven’t put big holes in it. They must have had ten kids.”
With that the woman shuffled back into the house, shaking her head and coughing loudly.
Ann was a little startled by the woman’s words, but she went on making notes. The house’s history had further intrigued her. The next day, she got the key and went inside. As the old lady had said, the tenants had made a shambles of the place. The fine hardwood floors were gouged and scuffed, and there were gaping holes in the plaster. But a closer look showed Ann that the damage was mainly on the surface. The roof seemed intact, and structurally the house appeared sound.
Seasons of the Heart Page 16
