Dr. Neurotic(22)

I laughed a little. "Yeah, I know that's true. She runs circles around me daily. Both literally and figuratively."

She surveyed me casually, and I let her, finally at ease with who I was  and my priorities in life. If Winnie were going to analyze me, I'd much  rather it be now than five years ago.

"You look happy, Nick. I don't know what it is, but the last few times you've picked up Lex, I've noticed."

I shrugged, even though, instantly, two reasons for my happiness came to mind. Lexi and Charlotte.

I knew my recent happiness over the past few weeks had a lot to do with  Charlotte, and eventually, I wanted to give Winnie insight into my  relationship, but I didn't feel like now was the appropriate time to  bring it up. Lexi could appear any moment, and I really didn't want to  start any kind of conversation that could turn personal when there was a  chance she might overhear.

This was a baby steps kind of situation.

"Thanks. I'm just … happy. Lexi makes me happy. So thanks for giving me the chance to have it."

She nodded just as our daughter came barreling past her and down the  steps to take me by the hand. "Come on, Dad. You know Vinito's gets  eighty percent busier an hour from now."

I nodded down to her and then looked back to Winnie with a smile. "Later, Win."

"Later, Nick."





"Don't worry, Mom. I did my research. The house is in great condition,  and if I can manage to win it at the auction, I'll have an incredible  amount of equity from the get go."

"Are you sure you did research?"

Immediately, my eyes rolled of their own accord. I chalked it up to  muscle memory but also silently offered up my thanks to the gods above  that this was just a phone conversation. No doubt, my mother wouldn't  have appreciated a reminder of how much of a pain in the ass teenage  Charlotte used to be.

Sue Hollis hated only three things: eye rolling, orange juice with the  pulp-apparently, it isn't "real" juice-and the fact that she'd visited  Dollywood three times without ever actually seeing Dolly Parton in  person.

"Yes, I'm one hundred percent certain it's a good investment," I  answered calmly. I was more like ninety percent sure, but leaving doubt  in a conversation with my mother was like leaving evidence at a crime  scene. She'd have me in cuffs in no time.

I knew she meant well and only wanted the best for me. It didn't mean  her current line of questioning wasn't annoying as hell, but her  intentions were there.

"When is the auction?"

I glanced at the clock on Nick's dashboard. "In about thirty minutes. I'm on my way there now."

"Are you on the phone and driving? That's so unsafe, Lottie. Just last  week, Vilma, you know, from two condos over? Well, she was driving over  by the beach, and one of those texters hit her. Made her insurance go up  by twenty percent."

"No," I answered vaguely. "I'm not talking and driving. And I'm not  texting and driving either. And Vilma is legally blind. Are you sure it  wasn't her fault?" Now was not the time to have an in-depth conversation  with my mother about my relationship with Nick, and completely covering  the topic with a pile of bullshit seemed like the best way to go. The  last phone conversation I'd had with her, I'd told her all about him and  our new relationship, and that call had lasted a full two hours. It had  been when she'd started mentioning weddings and grandchildren that I'd  nipped the sucker in the bud and ended the call.

"Who's driving?" she continued to interrogate, not in the least dissuaded by my insults to a fellow geriatric.

"Nick is driving, Mom."

"Aww," she cooed into my ear, and I knew I needed to find an exit route  from this phone call stat. "Sounds like things are getting really  serious with you guys."

Cripes. She's redirecting and heading for the marriage territory again …

"Uh-huh," I muttered and cringed at the same time, all the while my mind kept shouting, Abort! Abort! Get the hell out of there!

"Have you guys started talking about the future yet?" she asked and then  whispered, "Like moving in together or marriage or babies?"

Why did my father have to be golfing right now? I really could have used him as backup.

"What did you say, Mom? Are you still there?" I pretended I hadn't heard  her. Yeah, it was a shit thing to do, but it was all I had.         

     



 

Nick glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and offered a knowing  smirk. "Liar," he mouthed, and I flipped him the bird for lack of  anything better to do. He chuckled while my mother continued to prattle  into my ear.

"I said, have you guys started talking-?" she started to ask, but I spoke over her, as if she weren't there at all.

"Mom? Are you still there?"

"I'm right here, Charlotte," she answered. "Can you hear me now?"

"Mom? Hello?" I questioned again, but before she started walking all  over her house, trying to find the perfect reception spot, I added, "I  think our connection is bad. I'll call you later, okay? Love you, bye!" I  clicked end on the call.

Nick tsked under his breath. "You're such a liar. Even I could hear her through the phone."

I knew it wasn't the most daughterly thing to do, but I had an auction  to focus on. My mind wasn't capable of handling a game of twenty  questions with my mother.

"I'm nervous," I excused myself. "My brain couldn't handle any more chitchat about our relationship with my mom."

Nick glanced at me out of his periphery as he switched lanes and headed toward the Brooklyn Bridge. "Why are you nervous?"

"Because I've never been to an auction before," I explained. "And God, I really want this house."

"No need to be nervous, sweetheart," he said and reached out with his  hand to pat my thigh reassuringly. "We're going to do everything we can  to get it for you."

A three-story town house located in Brooklyn, with the easiest commute  to Manhattan on the A train, it was everything I needed in a home. Not  to mention, the time had come for me to stop renting my shitty apartment  and settle down into something that was my own.

I was tired of living in Chinatown, and more than that, I was ready to  have my own place, my own home. It was a milestone I'd been saving up  for over the past eight years, and finally, I'd reached my goal and  found my perfect house.

But first, before I could break out the bottle of celebratory champagne,  I needed to go to a sheriff's auction and put in a bid. And my bid  needed to be the winning bid. And somehow, someway, I needed to  accomplish both things without bumbling up.

I hadn't planned on going the auction route to purchase my home, but  once I'd found out about this house-a Brooklyn townhouse, on an affluent  street, being auctioned off at nearly half the value-the opportunity  was unbelievable. Too fucking good to pass up.

And considering how much I truly loved the place, it was crazy stressful.

I'd never been to an auction, especially a sheriff's auction, and I  really didn't know all of the ins and outs. It was definitely new-and a  bit scary-territory for me.

I'd done my research on the house itself, but the auction part? Yeah, I  probably should have utilized Google a lot more for that.

Between the nerves and anxiety, I'd decided to drag Nick along. He also  didn't know the first thing about sheriff's auctions, but being the good  boyfriend that he was, he came along for the much-needed moral support.

Once we crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, the drive was surprisingly short  and quick by New York standards. Nick parked his SUV-something he used  so rarely it only had three thousand miles on it despite being three  years old-in the back lot of the government building where the auction  was being held and turned off the engine.

"Ready?"

I shook my head, and he chuckled softly.

"It'll be fine," he reassured. "Even if you don't win the auction, at  least you'll have a better idea of what to expect the next time you find  a house you love. Although," he said and glanced at my white knuckles  gripping the door handle, "I recommend maybe just sticking with the  normal house-buying process in the future."

I sighed and released my death grip. "It's just nerve-racking," I  muttered petulantly. "I really love this home, and I really, really,  really want it." Sure, I hadn't seen more than a few old MLS pictures of  the inside, but even if the thing was nearly wrecked, the bones were  there. And every woman knew great bone structure was one of the few  pieces of beauty it was hella hard to change.

"I know, sweetheart." He grinned. "And that's why we need to find the strength to get out of the car and walk inside."

A laugh escaped my lips at the absurdity of it all. I mean, generally  speaking, I wasn't a nervous kind of person, but I was obviously losing  myself to anxiety over this. The tingling sensation in my fingers as  blood started to find its path back to my hand was proof of that.