“Dumb looking. I know. But good stuff. Can’t hurt.” He grabbed his lunch box with his big fist, stood up, and nodded at the books. “Can’t hurt.” Bruce let himself out.
They were the dumbest looking books Alonzo had ever seen, and if he understood his taciturn friend they were about relationships. He and Mitzy were adults. They did not need relationship books with teaspoons on the covers. Alonzo already knew how to do relationships.
He called Mitzy downstairs in her office.
“Hey, I wanna have lunch. Are you free?”
“I’ve got another hour until my next showing. I think I could do lunch. But I’ll be wearing the company blazer,” she said.
He groaned. “Really?”
“Yes. I’ll have to go straight from the restaurant to the house. At least I’m warning you this time. Now you can choose: eat lunch alone or eat lunch with Mitzy in her purple company blazer with the embroidered logo and the big shoulder pads.”
“You could leave it in the car.”
“Can’t. My shirt is see-through.”
“So you could leave it in the car.”
“Ha ha. Me and the blazer or nothing.”
Alonzo took a deep breath. He had always liked his women well-dressed. He would not have put it in so many words, but people knew: women who went out with Alonzo had a certain look. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be right down.”
She had a showing to get to so they’d have to take separate cars. But he could at least walk out with her.
He held out his arm for her at the office. She took it. He reached over and patted her fluffy curls, a mile high today. “Big hair day?” He was feeling antagonistic.
“For the love, Alonzo! I like my hair.”
He kissed her cheek. “So do I.”
He sounded sarcastic to Mitzy but then again, she was already on the defensive over his comments on her clothes. Ben and Jenny were like 12 year olds and engaged. And Bruce was courting Sabrina. She couldn’t figure out why she was still giving a big jerk like Alonzo the time of day.
“It’s not romantic,” he said, “but we can talk a little about the Feds while we eat.”
She had the answer to her question. Life with Alonzo was much more interesting than life without him had been.
The little purple HHR, Neuhaus New Homes’ company car, sat alone outside a miniature Mcmansion. The house had the same look as the ever popular new American dream home, even down to the three car garage. But coming in at just 1395 square feet the house was cramped inside.
Mitzy could tell the interested buyers were feeling cramped. The builder had used valuable square footage on a substantial bedroom level laundry room and on an eat-in kitchen that could seat dozens. That left room for only the tiniest of bedrooms, one clocking in at a mere 8 feet by 9 feet, as though in every family the baby would always stay in a crib.
Or perhaps it was a house meant to be lived in for two years and no longer. It had a gas fireplace, granite counters, recessed lighting, wiring for surround sound, and a hot tub, so even after this housing crash the short sale price was $215,000.
“What do you think about the kitchen?” Mitzy asked. She was bored of this house already. For all of its supposed upgrades it had none of the details that made the Nuevo Craftsman homes charming; no rounded wall edges, no rubbed brass door knobs and faucets. The style of the fixtures was attractive, but not special, not above average. Even the granite counters were grey with little variation, and thin enough to have come in at a discount.
“It is so beautiful,” Holly Harris, the first time homebuyer said, softly. “It’s the prettiest kitchen we’ve seen.” She gazed out the kitchen window into a well-tended rose garden. Mitzy agreed silently that the rose garden was beautiful. And the kitchen was very big, showing off the pretty laminate wood floors. Mitzy clicked her boot heel on the floor. At least the laminates were high quality.
“Just to remind you, there is no formal dining room in this house,” Mitzy said.
“That’s okay,” Holly’s husband John said. “We’re not formal people. And you can put a really big table in here.”
“And the kitchen island is perfect. It has the stove, the way I like it, and tons of counter and room for bar stools. We would totally live in this kitchen.”
Kitchens sell houses. The builder had that much right. But they’d have to live in the kitchen, Mitzy thought, giving a backwards glance to the living space. It was half open to the kitchen, sharing a wall that held the refrigerator and most of the upper cabinets. And it was only 10 x 10. Mitzy wondered if the Harris’s apartment furniture would be able to fit in the small space.
“We’ve seen everything but the yard, why don’t we go outside and take a look?” Mitzy asked.
For a new construction, the yard wasn’t bad. The lot was just over 7000 square feet and it had been meticulously landscaped. The hot tub sat on a beautiful patio paved in stone. The side yard that the kitchen looked onto was a rose garden that had blooms on it still, even this late in the season. And, to top it off, it had a rainwater-fed irrigation system.
“I can see us sitting in the hot tub watching the stars,” Holly said dreamily.
“I like the irrigation system,” John said. “But there’s no shed.”
“You’re right, John. But there is a three stall garage so you would probably have room for your lawn tools in there,” Mitzy said.
John looked back at the house again. “True, but there’s no garage door to the backyard. I’d have to haul the lawnmower around here from the front.”
“You’d have to haul it around to the front if you kept it in a shed.”
“That’s true.” He glanced at the rose garden again, eyes narrowed. “Can a lawn mower fit down that path?” he muttered. “What do you think of it overall?” John asked Holly.
“It’s beautiful,” she said. “We wouldn’t have to do any work on it at all, not even paint it. And it has everything we need. We could use the small bedroom for an office and the other one for the guest bedroom, or for when we have kids.”
“Keep in mind,” Mitzy said, “That if you stay long enough to have a couple of kids you would lose your office and you might not have room for your office elsewhere in the house.”
“Oh, there’s room in the dining room for a desk, if we had to. Wouldn’t you say so John?” Holly asked.
“Yes. I’d say so. I like it. It’s a good house.”
“Then let’s go back inside and talk a little bit about the numbers.” They went back through the sliding door to the dining room and sat at the homeowner’s table. Mitzy saw a shadow from the corner of her eye and turned. She could have sworn she heard footsteps. But looking, she didn’t see anyone. She shivered a little. Hadn’t noticed the Feds following her for the last couple of days, but she had retained a lingering paranoia.
Mitzy wished she could show John and Holly the house on 72nd. It was twice the house this was and beautifully maintained. But they could barely afford this at $215,000 so there was no point in wishing. And she had the unfortunate task ahead of her of explaining just why they couldn’t have it for $215,000, even though that was the asking price. She let the young couple chatter about the house to themselves while she pretended to be absorbed in her papers. Half attending to the Harrises she heard a car door shut quietly in the distance. It certainly wasn’t a busy neighborhood; it had that going for it at least.
When Mitzy noticed both of the Harrises looking her way again she sat down with them. The first thing she did was to put the tax assessor sheet in front of them.
“This information is on the public record. Please notice the price right here,” she indicated the spot she wanted them to look at with her brightly manicured pointer finger, the lavender polish set off with a tiny golden maple leaf. “When the home was purchased in 2005, the same year it was built, the family paid $299,000.” She let them look at the number for a moment. They didn’t say anything so she continued. “The current asking price is $215,000. But we call that the �
��come and see’ price. They want us to come and see the house so they put a price on it that seems like it will get buyers in. It is not necessarily a price that the bank will accept for the house.”
“But you don’t know until you try,” John said.
“That’s true. It’s only been on the market for two days so we don’t have any other offers to compare ours to. And the last sold price doesn’t tell us what the mortgage was. It only gives us an idea of what it could be. The family, to the best of my knowledge, from chatting with the seller’s agent, wants to unload this before it forecloses. How do you feel about all of that?” Mitzy asked, her hands resting lightly on the table in front of her.
“I think we should try,” Holly said. “It’s such a nice, well kept neighborhood. And the house is really beautiful.” She turned her big brown eyes to John, who smiled at her.
“I think we should try as well. It feels like the house for us.”
“Okay. If you are sure you want to try we can talk about the offer. It can take the bank a terribly long time to come back with an answer for a short sale, so I want to encourage you guys to keep looking while you wait. New houses are coming up every day and if something were to go awry with this one it would be nice to know you had another home in mind,” Mitzy pulled out some papers from her purple alligator Birken bag and started writing down the buyer’s information. While she wrote they heard a car door slam followed by the sound of running feet. John stood up and looked out the window, but it was facing the wrong way.
“What was that?” Holly asked him.
“Probably some kid going home,” he said with a shrug.
Mitzy shivered, but John was probably right.
They talked over their offer together and agreed to offer asking price with no concessions. They weren’t rolling in money, but with their FHA loan and a down payment of only 3% they thought they’d be able to pay their own closing costs. Mitzy was almost sorry about that. It made the offer so much more attractive but at the same time she was sure she could find them a better house if they would only be patient. When she left what ought to have been a positive moment, actually finding a buyer for a home, she felt dejected. Her first thought being, “Why did the builder think that house was good enough?” and her second, “who was running away so quickly from that car, and why?”
Mitzy waited in the car for Alonzo. She could see his silhouette in the window. His neck was flexed and he looked like he was yelling. She thought he ought to yell less. She licked her lips and smacked her mouth a few times. Very dry. Her water bottle was empty so she popped open the glove box to look for gum. A book fell out. It was white and had a spoon on the front. Mitzy snorted. Looks like Bruce had gotten to him. As she picked the book up to put it away she noticed the bookmark. She looked out the windshield to see if Alonzo was coming and then opened the book to the marker.
The chapter was “Cranium” and the page he was on was about making each date special. She read a few lines and wondered if she’d be “experiencing a different way to enjoy life together with her beloved” as he “made the intentional, intellectual decision to give her a new experience.”
She looked up again and saw him coming out the door. She put the book back and tried to look nonchalant.
“That clerk is an imbecile,” Alonzo said. “And he wastes my time. I’ve got to get a bunch of papers filed for the Hud tonight. Let’s go to my place. I’ve got some spaghetti leftovers.”
Mitzy smirked. “Working dinner? How new and wonderful,” she said.
Alonzo grunted.
“Can we get take out and go to my place?” Mitzy asked with a smile.
“Fine,” Alonzo said.
The door to her condo was ajar. Mitzy pushed it in with her toe. She hated it when she left in such a hurry that she didn’t even shut the door properly. Alonzo noticed.
“Hey,” he said. “Let me go in first.”
She stepped aside but came in right behind him.
“Did you leave the light on in your office?” he asked.
“Probably,” she said.
Alonzo set the bag of take-out down on the coffee table and went down the hall to Mitzy’s office. Her condo was a couple of regular condos on the top floor of her building converted to a penthouse of 3000 square feet. At the end of the dark hall Alonzo could see the light shining under the closed office door. Its light spreading on the well polished oak floors.
Mitzy went to the kitchen to put on water for tea and get plates.
“Is it always this messy in here?” Alonzo hollered from the office.
“Probably,” Mitzy called back. She had hoped dinner and a movie with Alonzo would perk her up after putting the offer on the less than satisfying house. Getting lectured about her housekeeping wasn’t going to perk her up.
Alonzo hollered something else that she didn’t quite catch so she went back to the office to join him.
The office seemed like a disaster. File drawers were open, papers, mostly fact sheets from homes she had sold in the past were strewn across the floor. The desk was a jumble of notebooks and index cards.
“Mitzy, did someone break in?” Alonzo asked.
“I doubt it,” Mitzy said shaking her head at the mess. “Belated spring cleaning. I was purging the office and I just didn’t finish. Shut the door and leave the mess behind you.” She backed out of the room.
“Are you kidding?” Alonzo said. “That is how your office looks when you are purging it? I thought a team of madmen turned it upside down.”
“Ha ha. Dinner?” She didn’t remember the mess being that bad, but it seemed her home always looked worse when someone else was in it with her.
“Have you never heard of a trash bag?” Alonzo asked.
“Seriously, let’s just eat. I was sorting it out. I don’t go in there often.”
“I wouldn’t either.” Alonzo said.
“Leave it alone.”
“Touchy.”
“Yes. My job sucks. Selling stupid houses to young people who will regret it. I hate that,” Mitzy said.
“I thought you never did that kind of thing?” Alonzo asked.
“I can’t tell people what to do. They can reasonably afford the house and they liked it even if I didn’t. Every now and then that happens.”
“But you are right and they are wrong?”
“Of course. Who know houses better? Me? I have only been studying homes and families and the home market for 15 or more years. Or could it be them? After all, they’ve visited three whole houses. They must know what they want when they see it,” Mitzy said.
“Most people do. Even if you don’t agree. Do you like making people buy the house you think they should?” Alonzo asked.
“Probably. I tell myself I like helping them find the right house but you know since you suggested it, probably I am just an egomaniac bent on telling everyone what to do.”
“Yes, Mitzy, that’s exactly what I said,” Alonzo said rolling his eyes.
“It’s what you meant. And no, I don’t think I do this so that I can make people do things. Do you like going out with your girlfriend and saying mean things to her to make her feel bad?” Mitzy said.
“This is hardly out,” Alonzo said.
“And now you are complaining about how we spend an evening? Maybe you should just go home.” She looked at him with big wet blue eyes that begged him to stay no matter how hard she tried to pull her eyebrows into a mean face.
“Yeah,” he said, turning away from her vulnerable look, “Maybe I should.”
“Oh,” Mitzy said. “Okay.”
“Don’t be like that. I won’t go,” Alonzo repented. “But don’t be so sensitive either. You know you like to have your own way and you’ve got to know that your office is a disaster. If you can’t take a little ribbing now and then…” he let his sentence trail off.
“Never mind. Eat something and tell me how things went at the Community Center.” Against her better judgment she brushed off her hurt feelings.
Alonzo was a clod. A real beefeater at times.
She had better try and accept it if she wanted him because he, so far, was proving to be one person she couldn’t swing to see things her way. With Alonzo he either already saw them her way or he would never be able to.
But they were dating. They weren’t committed yet. They were still in their trial period.
“You’re preoccupied so get it out. Tell me everything you hate about the house and then we can move on.” Alonzo sat down next to Mitzy and put his arm around her.
“Okay. Brace yourself and I’ll get it out fast: It’s too small and laid out stupid or maybe it wouldn’t be too small if it wasn’t laid out so stupid. They are going to hate trying to live in it even if it does have granite and let me tell you the granite wasn’t that great. Really cheap grade, if you know what I mean, but they didn’t expect to see it so when they did it was all over, three car garage and granite they had to have it. They will be bursting at the seams in two years, tops and probably hate it the whole time they live in it. They will never be able to afford new furniture, though, and I am sure she will insist on buying some or heavens-forbid she’ll make them rent-to-own stuff for their house, besides which they only put three percent down and I hate that. And when we went in to talk about it I swear I could have seen someone sneaking out which gave me the creeps and the neighborhood was quiet, too quiet.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Feel better?”
“Yeah. I do. Thanks.”
“Can we move on?” Alonzo asked
“Yes, I think we can,” Mitzy said, taking another deep breath.
“Good, because what I wanted to tell you was how hot you look today. And I just hadn’t had a chance.” He leaned in and took a nibble at her neck.
“Mmmmmmm” she responded, smiling. “We can talk about that.”
However they didn’t talk much again. At least not right then. They got around to eating dinner eventually and talking about the community center.
“It’s coming along. We should have it all framed up by the end of the week. Laying the foundation went very fast. I expect that we won’t get behind on it,” Alonzo said.
Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 02 - Eminent Domain Page 7
