The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2)

by Aksel, Amanda

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that sounds like the life,” he said and went on to compare his work situation to Telly’s, saying he should really start thinking about moving along with his plan, but that it never seemed like the right time. It got me thinking about time, and how timing really was everything.

  I thought about how James and I met. Had Anderson and his girlfriend not walked into my office that day, I probably would have left the office early. My phone wouldn’t have rung and so I would’ve made it safely out of the building and all the way home. We never would have had that moment when he rescued me in more ways than one.

  Then again, James was best friends with David. It was likely that we would’ve crossed paths again in a different way. Maybe by that time I would have been past that whole ‘men are all cheaters’ thing and our relationship would’ve started off completely normal. Maybe that would have been better because then James wouldn’t know how crazy I was, and he’d want to marry me because he’d see that we were two imperfect people who were perfect for each other.

  I could play the what if game all day long, but it wouldn’t change the reality of the situation. Then again, maybe James did want to marry me. Maybe the McQueen Method was working.

  On the way back, we drove through Alamo Square, one of my favorite neighborhoods in the city. James knew that I loved passing by to look at the Edwardian style homes. I stared out of the window looking for my favorite ones. Most of the houses were over a hundred years old and had been rehabbed. But still, it was like going back in time to a place where things were simpler. James pulled the car over.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “See that?” He pointed to a house on his side of the car. There was an agent setting up a sign. James got out of the car and approached her. I followed and looked up at the blue house with white trim on all three of the bay windows. A single car garage was tucked underneath and I must’ve counted over twenty steps to the doorway.

  “Just listed it for sale,” the agent told James.

  “How much?” James asked.

  My heart began to race. What was he thinking? We weren’t in the market to buy a property, especially not one in this neighborhood.

  The agent quoted him a price.

  Wow, much lower than I had expected. “It’s priced to sell. The couple’s retired now, selling it to downsize. You interested?”

  “What do you think?” he asked me. What I thought was there is no way we could get that house. It was like the housing version of James; a picture perfect idea that seemed so close but still out of reach.

  “I literally just listed the house. The ink’s barely dry. I’m sure you can see it now if you want,” the agent suggested.

  “Just a second,” he told the agent and pulled me aside. “This house is a great deal. Let’s check it out.”

  I gazed up at the property again, and felt myself become attached. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We can’t afford a place like this,” I said.

  “Sure we can,” he said.

  I pouted my lip.

  “Marin, what’s the problem? You love this neighborhood. How amazing would it be to buy this place? It could be ours.”

  Okay, James may not have been proposing marriage, but now he was proposing a home purchase. It was a big commitment. “Okay, let’s take a look,” I said.

  We walked up the steps with the agent and rang the doorbell. Two columns framed the doorway and the entire area was trimmed with light blue and white molding. My heart raced as the door opened. An old gentleman, at least seventy-five, stood inside.

  “Cindy,” he said.

  “Hi, Mr. Wallace. I was posting the for sale sign and this nice couple drove up. They’re interested in the property. Since we’re all here, do you mind if I show them around?”

  Mr. Wallace peeked over the agent’s shoulder and looked us over for a second. His suspicious expression turned into a welcoming one in a matter of moments, and we were invited inside. It was lovely, like having an out of body, real estate experience. The house was tastefully done with beautiful hardwood floors and crisp white moldings. There were fireplaces in both the living room and the bedroom, and I imagined sitting in front of them with James and a glass of pinot on a cool night like this. The bathrooms and kitchen needed a bit of updating, but overall it was . . . a dream. We walked out onto the back deck and down the stairs to the backyard. Like most of the homes in the area, the yard was long and narrow but big enough for a dog and maybe a swing set.

  Elation from inside my chest made me feel as if it was already mine. I wanted it so badly, I could cry. Then at that very moment, James whispered, “Let’s buy it.”

  I looked deep into his eyes, wanting it to be our home, feeling as if we were already home.

  “But how?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later,” he said.

  Huh? What did that mean?

  Mrs. Wallace, the lady of the house, followed us through each room. “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

  “Oh, about forty-five years, I’d say. It’s been a great home. We raised our two boys here. They’re grown now and have families of their own.”

  “Why would you want to sell this place? It’s a dream,” I said.

  She laughed a soft, warm laugh. “Yes, living here has been a dream, but dreams change. It’s too big for just the two of us. We’re moving to a condo in Juniper, Florida to be closer to one of our sons and grandchildren.

  “That’s nice,” I said.

  “Oh, yes. It was seventy-five degrees in Jupiter today.” Mrs. Wallace grinned.

  I looked into her sweet eyes. It seemed like she and Mr. Wallace were living the dream and now moving on to greener pastures and much warmer weather. I imagined us following a similar path, and the thought moved me to tears.

  “Are you okay, dear?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I laughed the tear away. “I’m fine.”

  James and I waved goodbye to the Wallaces and to the house. Outside on the street, Cindy asked if we wanted to put an offer on the house.

  “Let us sleep on it and let you know in the morning before you officially list it. We’re very interested, but we need to talk it over first,” James told her.

  “I’ll give you ‘til ten tomorrow morning, then I’ve got to put it in the system.”

  “We can work with that,” he said.

  She handed James her business card and reminded us about her ten a.m. deadline before heading off.

  “What street is this?” I asked. James walked a little way to the corner sign.

  “Fell Street,” he said and started laughing. “Oh, my God. That’s too funny.”

  “Why is that funny?” I asked.

  “Think about it, Fell Street? The first time we met, you . . .”

  “Fell,” I said.

  James wasn’t really the type to believe in signs. If the whole thing didn’t already astonish me, then I was really surprised to hear him say, “I think it’s meant to be. What are the odds?”

  He was right, what were the odds of us meeting the way we did, of stumbling on this amazing property that would no doubt be gone within a day? It had to be meant for us. The only thing that would make this even more perfect would be if he got down on one knee and pulled a diamond ring from his pocket. But what were the odds of that?

  That night we went back to his place and talked about nothing but the house. We flipped through the pictures we took on our phones and talked about the things that were perfect and things we could make perfect. It was the most exciting conversation we’d had in a long time.

  “But James, what about the price?” I asked. “It’s way above anything I could afford.”

  “Well, you’re not buying it on your own. We’d buy it together.”

  “Even so, the mortgage would be a bit higher than our rent. I have some cash, but not enough for a decent down payment. What about you?”

  “I’ve got enough,”
he said.

  “You been holdin’ out on me, Young?”

  He laughed. “No, when my grandfather passed a few years ago, he left all of us a nice chunk of change. It’s enough for a down payment on this house and to fix up the kitchen and bathrooms.”

  “Wow. I had no idea. Are you sure you want to use it for this?” I asked.

  “Yep, I knew I’d put it into a house someday. I wanted to wait for the right house, the right girl, and the right time.”

  “And you feel like this is it?” I said, hopeful.

  His eyes were fixed on mine and in that moment, I wanted to believe he was thinking the same thing that I was, that we were Mr. and Mrs. Right about to buy the perfect house on Fell Street.

  “Yeah, I think so.” He leaned in for a kiss. It had been a crazy day and all the talk about buying a house and being committed to it together really turned me on. James may not have asked for my hand in marriage, but tonight I let it go to enjoy being in this right time with him.

  The next morning, I awoke to the smell of french toast and bacon. The sounds of the newscast echoed from downstairs. As I blinked away the sleep in my eyes, I recalled the house on Fell Street. Our house. I could barely sleep the night before thinking about our life there.

  “Morning, beautiful,” he said and poured me a cup of coffee.

  “You makin’ my favorite breakfast?” I asked.

  “You know it.” He served me a plate of morning goodness. “I called Cindy this morning about the house.” He paused and his silence made my stomach flip.

  “And . . . ?” I asked.

  “We got the house!” I threw my arms in the air, and he picked me up right out of my chair.

  “Cindy’s going to bring the offer by later to sign.”

  “Wait, what about the loan approval? Your grandfather didn’t leave you that much in cash, did he?”

  “I wish,” he said with a smirk. “I got a pre-approval letter from a guy Jared hooked me up with a few weeks ago in case we wanted to discuss buying. I was curious what we could get.”

  “You were approved for the whole thing? Already?” Seriously?

  He uh-huhed and laid one on me.

  “Oh, my God, I can’t believe this!” It was true. I couldn’t believe it. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Everything except one thing and it was the only glitch in the plan. “Wait, are you sure this is a good idea, buying a house together? It’s not like we’re married.”

  “Lots on unmarried couples buy houses together,” he said. Not the answer I wanted to hear.

  “But what if something happens?”

  “What’s going to happen?” he asked before sipping his coffee.

  “We could break up. One of us could die . . .”

  He put down his mug and approached me. “We’ll work out all those details.” His hands slid up and down my arms to comfort me, but I lowered my head.

  Was this a smart decision for me?

  “Look,” he said. “I’m not going into this lightly. I want to have a life with you, and I think this house is a great addition to that. Don’t you think so?” He moved his head to make eye contact.

  “You’re sure this is what you want?” I asked, staring into his sweet blue eyes.

  “Yes,” he replied. I let myself believe that if I followed this path, it would eventually lead to the place I so desperately wanted to be.

  James and I made house plans over breakfast. In the two months before closing, I’d have to pack, give notice to my landlord, forward my mail to the new address, and transfer the utilities. Not to mention we wanted to do some work on the house like update the kitchen and repaint the bedroom. My thoughts drifted to light shades of blue and soft hues of beige. Were we really buying a house together?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  St. Patrick’s Day

  I wanted to tell someone the good news and knew the one person who would truly appreciate it. So I met her at the dress shop where she was being fitted for alterations.

  “Marin!” Ginger called from a small platform. A thin woman with a dark bun crouched by her feet, pinning the bottom of the dress. Even though Ginger’s dress was unfinished and her hair was in a messy ponytail, she was stunning, like some kind of bridal dream. That boob job of hers didn’t hurt either.

  “You look . . .”

  “Incredible, right!” She giggled and bounced with glee, and I joined her.

  “I need you to stay still please,” the lady with the pins said.

  “Sorry.” Ginger quieted and the pin lady cracked a little smile.

  “You know,” I said. “I still haven’t received your wedding invitation.”

  Ginger let out a sigh. “Ugh, I know. It’s my fault. I keep changing my mind on the invite. I want everything to be perfect.”

  “I know what you mean.” I thought back to my engagement with Chad, standing where she was with pins in my white gown. I had the same hopes, the same dreams, the same desire for perfection. But like Katie said, sometimes you can’t tie everything in a neat little bow, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try. Ginger and I weren’t so different. We were optimists.

  “So you said you had some news. Is it what I hope it is?” Ginger asked.

  “Not exactly, but we’re getting closer.”

  “Are you pregnant?” she whispered.

  “No, I wish,” I said. An “accidental” pregnancy would probably seal the deal, but I’d never do something like that. Call me a romantic, but I wanted James to marry me because I was the one he wanted, not for any other reason.

  “Then what is it?” She hurried me to answer.

  “We’re buying a house! Together.” My grin was from ear to ear. It was the first time I was able to share the news with anyone.

  Just when I thought her grin couldn’t get any wider, it did. “Are you serious?”

  I nodded vigorously, unable to contain my cheer.

  “That’s incredible!” And she was right. It was pretty incredible. “So where are you with the steps?” she asked.

  “I’m in the midst of Step Three, getting ready for Step Four in a couple weeks. I really need to plan that getaway. Where did you go for yours?”

  “We went to Miami.”

  “Miami?” That’s not a place I would’ve picked.

  “Oh yeah, Miami’s very sexy.”

  “Have any other ideas?” I asked as I was out of places that didn’t involve wine country.

  “I could think of a few places, but it has to stimulate James. You know who you should talk to?”

  “Who?”

  “Rachel. According to her Facebook page, she’s always going somewhere.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? I had to admit, Ginger was turning out to be a good friend. I needed some alone time with Rachel anyway.

  Turns out, Rachel was difficult to get alone. She was too busy to meet for coffee so I had to meet her where she was, which was the craft store on Market Street.

  I followed her around while she perused through sheets of scrapbook paper and paper cut outs of ocean waves and palm trees.

  “I need your help with something,” I said.

  “Oh, yeah?” She didn’t lift her eyes from the two pieces of paper she was comparing.

  “I want to do something nice for James. I was thinking a weekend getaway. Like a sexy weekend getaway.”

  She turned to me for a moment. “I’m listening.”

  “You and David have been everywhere. Where can we go for a long weekend? Somewhere James would like.”

  “I have no idea. Do you think I have time to research vacation spots?” Her words were chilly, and I didn’t know how to respond.

  She must have caught a whiff of her tone, because after one look from me she changed it. “You can hire someone to figure that out for you. I’ll text you the name of my travel agent. She’s amazing and she’ll take care of everything.” Okay, that last part sounded much better. Not to mention, it was a relief.

  “Thanks, Rach,” I said.

&nb
sp; “No biggie.”

  “So, how are things with David?” I asked as if it was a mundane inquiry, but really I was dying to know.

  “They’re good,” she said like she meant it.

  “Are you sure? Because you know you can tell me if they’re not.”

  She gave me one of those perfect smiles that was too perfect to be believed. “No really, everything’s good. Everyone has bad days, Marin. You should know that better than anyone.” Was she talking about my bout with insanity or my profession?

  “Okay, I had to ask. You’re like a little sister to me.”

  Rachel headed down the next aisle, returning to casual conversation. “Speaking of sisters, did Holly tell you about Noom?”

  I thought about telling her everything, but it wasn’t something Holly would want me to share with Rachel. It was bad enough that I couldn’t keep my mouth shut to Telly and as for James, well, I told him everything. Okay, mostly everything.

  “Yeah, it’s so weird, right?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I want to be happy for her, but they’re so mismatched. He’s gotta go. And given his history, I’m sure he’ll be out of here soon. We just have to be patient. That reminds me, we’re taking them out drinking for St. Patrick’s Day. You guys should come.”

  “Wait, I thought you wanted him gone?”

  “I do, but I don’t want Holly to know that. I have to support her regardless. She’s family. Besides, maybe he’s a bad drunk.”

  Yeah maybe, like David.

  “Ooh, look at this!” She handed me a square sheet of pink glitter paper. It was strange the things that excited her. I shot her a wry glance. Some things never changed.

  St. Patrick’s Day fell on Friday that week, and it was quite a lucky day because it was the day our contract on the house was ratified, which meant it was official. Goodbye landlord, hello mound of debt. There was no one I’d rather have a mound of debt with than my love, James.

  On the evening of St. Patrick’s Day, James and I were getting ready to meet our friends and Noom as promised.