Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 02 - Time Is of the Essence

by Catharine Bramkamp

  The message was from Ben.

  “Hi, just wanted to check in with you, hope you’re fine. Give me a call when you have time.”

  I have time, that’s what I liked about Claim Jump, there seems to be longer days here, more time packed into the hours. I returned Ben’s call but got his machine.

  “Hi, everything is fine up here. Beautiful scenery, beautiful weather, just beautiful. Talk to you soon.”

  I clicked off. I forget to add, wish you were here. I did wish he were here. But not with the heart wrenching longing that I expect to feel it this was really hot and heavy love.

  Pat and Mike had magically appeared through the back door while I was wandering around the front of the house. I stopped just outside the door leading to the kitchen. Pat, Mike and Prue were at the kitchen table, they all leaned in towards each other.

  My phone rang. I clicked it on.

  “Oh, hi Allison, I’m so glad I caught you!”

  “Who is this?”

  “Heather, from the office?”

  Heather, Heather. Oh, the new girl.

  “I’m in North County and I’m looking for Steele lane, do you know where it is?”

  “From 101 take the down town exit, turn left, take the first right, straight a dozen miles and it’s on the left, why?”

  “Thank you,” she hung up.

  “They have no evidence.” Mike sat across from Prue, clutching a mug – the yellow one – of coffee in one hand, the other holding Prue’s fingers.

  “But what if they do?” Prue hunched over a green and purple mug that looked familiar. I think I made it in kindergarten. She saves everything.

  “Isn’t that the problem?” Pat reasonably.

  Prue nodded. “That is the problem. The records were never very accurate, you know that. I don’t think we ever bothered to add up the checks against what we were doing. And so much of it was in cash. But it was all okay back then. We had what we had.”

  “Bribes?” Mike asked.

  Grandma snorted. “Come on, you know as well as I that everyone was bribed to get a project

  or improvement pushed through. And I don’t know why we aren’t evicting all those people in illegal units off Red Dog Road.”

  Mike shook his head.

  “Didn’t Millicent run her council campaign all against offering more services for those homes?” Pat asked.

  “She did, made a big deal about the budget. Make a big deal about the evictions, then as soon as she was elected to the council, nothing more was said.” Prue sipped her coffee.

  “She’s driving a new truck.”

  “Just like the old Claim Jump,” Mike said.

  “But you shouldn’t take the fall and you don’t want to spend your golden years fighting for your name.”

  I walked in. “If she doesn’t, I will.”

  “Allison honey, don’t worry about me. This was a while ago when Lucky was building the upper two hundred homes. It’s this lower two hundred and fifty we’re worried about now. They want to annex them to the City, which would mean everything from my house up.”

  “The general plan doesn’t accommodate it,” Mike assured her.

  “Wouldn’t they need to draw up a new one for Lucky’s proposal?” I asked.

  General plans are constantly redrawn to accommodate a new development. At first a General Plan declares no new building, then in a few months time, a new General Plan is re-drawn to accommodate, yes, a new suburb.

  Grandma shrugged. “The Council is mostly on Lucky’s side, it won’t take long to add to the General Plan. I don’t see how we can fight another two hundred homes going up there.” She gestured with her head. Mike reached out and smoothed down a stray curl.

  “We’ll figure out something. He can’t go filling in this without some sort of go ahead from the city.”

  “Are we talking about two different things? Or are these related?”

  “No,” she sipped her coffee and gently set down the mug. “Misplacing the business license fees happened a long time ago. I collected the fees from businesses and kept them here until the mayor,”

  “Schmidt, at the time.” Pat put in.

  Grandma nodded. “He took the money from me and I assumed placed it back in the City’s account.”

  “And what if he didn’t?” I asked.

  “He would never do that,” Grandma insisted.

  “Would it be a lot of money?”

  “Not really, but the scandal, especially now a days, would ruin him.”

  “Isn’t he running for something in San Francisco?”

  Grandma shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Pat nodded. “You don’t have the money, no one can prove anything.”

  “That City Attorney is pretty terrible, he seems to be after me personally,” Grandma admitted.

  “He is terrible,” Pat agreed. “But we’ll keep you safe.”

  A small chill raced up my spine. I wondered what else Grandma and her friends were working to keep safe.

  4,

  I was interrupted. The caller was unnamed, but the number was local to Claim Jump. It wasn’t Heather. I walked into the hallway before I answered.

  “Come on out and have coffee with me.” It was Danny.

  I had managed to avoid him last night, not wanting to rekindle our past relationship, but reluctant to insult him “Okay, when?”

  “In about an hour?”

  “Sure, meet you at Express So.” I hung up. “Grandma, I’m having coffee with Danny, then I’m going to the library.”

  “I’m glad,” Prue said, “you need friends”.

  “I have friends.” I protested. I didn’t want to discuss it further in front of the ubiquitous Pat and Mike.

  I took a quick shower and slipped into my worn loafers, shorts and clean tee shirt. When I slum, I slum. Except I did wear a bra.

  I galumphed downstairs and grabbed my purse.

  Grandma was waiting for me in the front hall.

  “Really Allison, you do need more friends,” she began.

  “I have friends,” I protested – again. I took a deep breath. I had Carrie and I counted Ben as a quasi friend. Are they friends if they are lovers? Or thereabouts, I wasn’t sure how I categorized the relationship.

  What about Mathew, was he a friend? No he was a wet dream. Let’s be clear in our categories.

  “I thought so.” Prue put her hands on her hips and regarded me carefully, like I hadn’t brushed my hair or something. “You need to get out more.”

  “You sound like mom,” I accused. That always got her, but she ignored the jab.

  “You will never get married if you huddle in the kitchen every weekend alone with your books.”

  “Grandma.” I frowned. She knew the M- word was off limits. I do not marry. I have my own life. My own weekends with books, cartoons and work. And I have two very consistent and dependable guys in my life – Ben & Jerry.

  “You know I have my career. Someone has to pay my mortgage and since I live alone, the job often falls to me.”

  I thought it was pretty clever, but Prue just shook her head. “I know honey, and you work so hard! Maybe some gay friends, they make the most excellent friends you know.”

  “I know, you’ve said that since I was a little girl.”

  “Yet you don’t take me up on it. What about Peter? You could invite him for coffee.”

  “I don’t think Peter is a good starting point.” I began, but Grandma wasn’t listening.

  “I’ll invite them to dinner and you and he can get to know each other,” she planned out loud. “Hey Pat,” she called over my shoulder. “What are you two doing for dinner tonight?”

  Our sparring session was over, and she had clearly won.

  I let out my breath and counted to one. So far measured breathing was not helping. Now my grandmother was setting me up with a gay guy. How was that supposed to advance the marriage agenda?

  I escaped the house before my grandmother got through to Peter. I d
idn’t want to know.

  I hiked down the hill, careful of the uneven cracks in the sidewalk but just the same, enjoying the hot morning, the blue sky, all that country life offered.

  The Express So faces Main Street. The other parallel street, Kentucky Street, was lined with a disproportion of the bars, because it was originally the ghetto area of Claim Jump.

  I strolled past a real estate office that is not New Century Realty, past a real estate office that was a New Century franchise, past the bead shop, past the shoe shop displaying new, colorful versions of old earth shoes. My grandmother patronizes that store.

  Tee shirt store. Bar, bar, bar.

  Coffee and travel book shop – my destination. I pulled open the wood framed screen door and was met by the most happy sound of an espresso machine.

  Danny waved to me from a back table. I gestured to the garden seating. It was already eighty degrees outside and not even noon. I was not going to waste the summer moment.

  He acknowledged my gesture and moved heavily from his little table to an even smaller table outside.

  I ordered a double latte with a shot of hazelnut because I could. When I was younger, such an order would have been rejected as pretentious and somewhat suspicious. Not anymore. Claim Jump has come a long way – at least in the coffee drink department.

  “I always wanted to travel,” Danny commented as I sat down across from him. I balanced my thick mug on the rickety table.

  Even the outdoor tables were scattered with old copies of National Geographic Traveler and slick brochures from a company named OAT, never more than 10 to 16! I’m guessing they work very hard to hit that number sixteen.

  “Why don’t you?” I picked up a catalogue glorifying the African safari adventure. I wondered if Rosemary or Katherine had been on a safari. Not together, they’d shoot at each other and claim they thought the other woman was a hippo or something.

  I think Katherine has three escrows right now. She is the current queen at the office.

  I hope Rosemary was practicing her breathing.

  He shook his head. “No, not me. Alimony, kids shoes, you know.” He pushed at his coffee cup. “Life.”

  I nodded my head in encouragement. But my phone buzzed and I answered it before I checked the screen. Damn!

  “Hi, Uh, Allison?” It was that Heather, the woman who knew Sonoma county like the back of her hand.

  “Patricia said you know the west county pretty well. I am heading for Bodega Bay do I take Pepper or Meacham?

  “Take either, you hit water you’re there, then travel north.” Simple directions. At least I thought so.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  If I scrutinized Danny carefully. If I worked hard, I could just discern the hunk I dallied with in high school. But there was too much hard living layered and hardened over his youth. I felt badly for him. And I wasn’t going to go down the road as to why I, myself, have not traveled either. Because I have no excuses at all. I live vicariously through Rosemary and Katherine.

  “Sorry for all the talk last night.” He finally said.

  “No need, it’s just what you guys do. I didn’t know Tom had joined the force.”

  “Yeah, but he’s city police, not sheriff.”

  “There’s a difference?” I sipped my coffee. It was pretty good.

  “Sheriff handles County, Police handle city limits. Makes a difference if you’re growing stuff.”

  “Why?”

  Danny drained his cup. “County doesn’t care. Sheriff has to officers.”

  “And they are doing more important things than busting pot growers.”

  He nodded. “Tom though, did start looking into some of Lucky Master’s work, but it didn’t last.”

  “Why?”

  “The department got a new computer system.”

  “That will do it.”

  Danny toyed with his empty mug.

  “I know.”

  I wanted to reach over and take his hand, strictly a gesture of friendship but I knew it would be misconstrued and I wanted none of that. I was already living in the land of innuendo and I wanted clear lines. Poor Danny would be the first on the receiving end of my resolve.

  “So the new thing is to annex the new development Lucky is planning.”

  “That would make sense.”

  “Yeah, they’re talking about retroactive permits.”

  “That will be a nightmare,” I said succinctly.

  “Yeah, and they wouldn’t even be going after the right group.”

  “Like all those illegal units above my grandmother?”

  “That’s not even the problem.”

  “What about the City Council?’’

  “They don’t do anything, they just follow the City Attorney.”

  “And what is his agenda?”

  “Helping Lucky.”

  “Well, isn’t that between Lucky and the attorney?”

  “Yes, but we all suffer, you know that.”

  I nodded. I did know that.

  “Your grandmother is in trouble.” He glanced around before he said it out loud, like we were in a spy movie – one of those science fiction films where the appearance of the bucolic town is just an illusion.

  “Lucky Masters wants to annex this next development to the City, and Prue stopped him.”

  “Stopped him, she can’t even find the paper work or a copy of the old general plan.” I pointed out.

  He picked up his cup, sipped at his black coffee and realized it was empty.

  “Why would Prue be in trouble?” I asked reasonably. “She’s not an elected official, she’s not in anyone’s way. She’s old for God’s sake.”

  “That doesn’t make any difference,” he said darkly.

  Then he switched his mien and looked at me straight up, the most honest expression I’d see in three days.

  “Just watch out for her, will you? Things can happen.”

  I nodded. I can be the Calvary, or at least make noise like a whole Calvary – in open toe pumps. I thought about that, a whole army in heels, the footwear could double as weapons. Never underestimate the pain of a spike heel – on or off.

  “Oh, and how was your date with Mathew last night?” He asked abruptly.

  “You heard that? It’s only been nine hours.”

  He smiled. “Welcome back.”

  I let him leave first and stayed at my little table for a minute more. I soaked in the bustle of tourists and locals walking up and down the street and in and out of the café. I relished the last of the summer sunshine. I could feel heat radiating off the street and sidewalk, but under the cover of the spreading elm trees, I was comfortable, and happy.

  My phone buzzed, I looked down at the number, resigned, clicked it on.

  “Uh Allison? I’m on the coast but I don’t see any houses.”

  “Where are you?”

  “The sign says Goat Rock.”

  I couldn’t help it. I smiled and waited just a minute to see if she knew where she was and knew she shouldn’t be there.

  “It’s pretty chilly here,” Heather finally said.

  Not as chilly as if she was standing close to me. I hoped she was smearing lip gloss all over her teeth as she spoke. Maybe get some on her phone.

  “You need to come back down south just a few miles,” I finally directed her.

  “Oh, thanks.”

  I called the office. It was the last day for our offer to be accepted.

  The phone rang and I prayed to the escrow gods, please let the fax be there. If it was not, I’d have to cut my trip short, go back to Rivers Bend and start all over. Well, if I could get hold of the Christophers, then I could file an extension, but I’d have to get hold of them, not a likely prospect.

  Katherine answered the phone.

  “You’re taking floor now?”

  “No, Patricia had to go to the bank.”

  “Can you check the fax machine and my in box for me?”

  “Allison,” Katherine began her lec
ture. “I sense you’re tense, you shouldn’t be tense, you are supposed to be on a break, Patricia says you’ve been calling three times a day, that doesn’t sound like a vacation to me.”

  “Not three times,” I said weakly. Yesterday I called four times.

  “You need to release that tension.” Katherine was ready to help me, at all cost. I could feel it.

  “I need to know if there’s a fax in my in box,” I stubbornly repeated.

  “Now here’s something I just learned from that guru who spoke at the center last week, you missed him, I put flyers in everyone’s box. Oh, you were already out of town. He was fabulous. Anyway, essentially, and I’m paraphrasing because the class was three hours.”

  And to think I missed it.

  “Take a deep breath,” Katherine counseled, taking my silence for acquiesce. ”Then let it out and count one.”

  She and Rosemary were in cahoots. That they agree on anything at all was strange and disturbing.

  “One,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “Good, I can tell it’s working already. Now take another deep breath, let it out and count two.”

  “Two - can you check the fax machine while I count?”

  “Oh sure, now take another breath, see, don’t you feel better already?”

  “Three, check it Katherine.”

  The phone clattered onto the Formica desktop and I heard Katherine’s heels tap on the hardwood floor.

  I waited. I wasn’t going to count, please.

  I heard her pick up the phone receiver and said “Five,” just to keep her happy.

  “Here is one fax, Spring Street?”

  “Yes, signatures?”

  “There’s your buyers and one signature for the seller.”