It was like a stab in the heart seeing that For Sale sign go up.
Hank pulled Mandy, his wife, closer so they stood hip-to-hip. She melted into the contours of his side. They stood in the front yard of the old two story Victorian, the house they had lived in since before the kids were born. The real estate agent, Anne, came over to shake Hank’s hand. She gave Mandy a sympathetic look.
“You’ll miss this place,” Anne said leaning in toward Mandy. “But I’m sure you’ll love what I find for you.”
Mandy gave a half smile, disengaged from Hank, and accepted a little hug from Anne. “I know.” They watched Anne drive away and then turned back toward the only house they ever owned.
“Funny,” Hank said as they approached the newly painted front door, “how you finally get everything the way you want it just so you can sell it.” They spent the last three months and a considerable sum of money whipping the old place into tip-top shape.
I thought they were doing it because they loved me.
Anne took them out on trip after trip looking for their new home. They wanted everything on one floor, like so many retirees. Nothing too big, but with enough space so as not to feel trapped. Hank insisted on a basement, so he could set up a work shop, and they wanted a two car garage even though they only had one car.
“One of my rules of life,” Hank told Anne. “Always build an oversized garage.” They had gone for twenty years with no garage at all. Once they finally got around to building it the contractor convinced Hank to build big. One of the best decisions they ever made. Plenty of room for all that accumulated clutter of life.
They come and go. But I thought these people were different. I thought it was real.
“No,” Mandy said walking from the empty living room to the empty dining room. Even without any window treatments the place was dark. “Our house has those nice big windows – so bright and cheery. This place is just too dark.”
Anne plastered a smile on her face and nodded in complete agreement. It was always something.
Kelsey’s water broke right here, on this landing. Don’t you remember?
Mandy paused as she pulled the curtains open. The bright sunlight washed over her just as it had twenty-three years ago today when she felt that first painful contraction — three weeks too early. She sat down on the steps suddenly awash in the memory of it. Oh how they’d rushed to finish the nursery – that little awkward room on the second floor. She stroked the banister rail idly. God she would miss this place.
She was roused by the sound of the doorbell. It was her neighbor, Betty. One in the long stream of visitors they’d had since putting up the sign. They drank coffee in the bright kitchen and reminisced about all the good times they shared bringing up kids together.
She stood at the front door for a long time after Betty was gone looking out at the only real neighborhood she had ever known.
Are you sure you want to do this?
“These people are driving me nuts!” Anne hung up the phone, having set up yet another appointment with the Murrays for house hunting. It was always something. Too dark. Not enough space. Too big. Don’t like the location. And her favorite – not enough character. She held up the half dozen fliers and waved them in the general direction of her coworker, Al. “I bet I can peg which excuse they’ll give for each one of these.”
Al shook his head in commiseration. “I know. You can’t get some of those old folks out with dynamite.”
If it wasn’t such a depressed market she’d tell them to find another agent.
I am your home. We have bonds, you and I.
Hank stood in the back yard and surveyed the memories. Mike’s tree, that little Arbor Day twig they stuck in the ground twenty-eight years ago now shaded the patio nicely. The stone they hauled up from the creek to mark Dorango’s grave sat near its base, now moss covered. He could still imagine the old lab’s wet nose playing off his fingers, seeking attention. How Kelsey had cried.
Last night they turned down a very good offer. Anne had been furious. She hid it well, but he could see it in her eyes.
Mandy came out and pulled him into herself. “What you thinking?” she asked.
“That side yard… you know, it’s probably big enough for a bed room, full bath, and laundry room.”
She looked up at him. “You don’t want to move?”
He shook his head ever so slightly, no.
She wiped away a tear. “Me neither. I’ll go call Anne with the bad news.”
I love these people.
~
© 2011 by J. M. Strother, all rights reserved.
I killed Sam Spade today. No, not that Sam Spade. I mean the guy up in Apartment 3B. Please believe me, it was an accident. I liked the guy.
