SEAL the Deal(35)
“Yes, these are the comps. Let me walk you through the package.” Lacey opened the folder.
Edith nodded at the estimated value of the property, a figure so enormous Lacey had grown lightheaded just typing it in.
Lacey sailed through her usual sales pitch, outlining her marketing plan, and doing her best to keep smears of syrup off the packet. As she shut the folder upon completion, she couldn’t help shaking her head. “So professionally, that’s what I’ll tell you, Edith. But personally, I would hate to see you let go of this home so soon after your husband’s death. I know it’s not my business, but—”
Edith interrupted. “Of course it’s your business. I think of you as a friend. I would appreciate your input as a friend, most of all.”
“Then I’ll say that unless there are financial reasons why you’d need to sell this house, I’d wait and see how you felt in a year.” Lacey began taking the dishes to the sink.
“Why do you say that?”
Lacey, her hands still full, gave a slight nod to the wall behind her. “It’s all these pictures, Edith. All the photos you have on your walls. You have such a history here. Such memories. You can’t put a price on that. Unless you have to, that is.” She smiled, remembering. “It was the same way with Maeve’s house. She wanted me to list it after her grandmother died. But one walk-through and I could tell memories were still so alive there. Even now, there are certain photos in the house that she refuses to move, let alone take down. The ones that are really special to her.” Lacey sighed.
“From that sigh, I’m guessing that’s what you’d like one day.”
“A home like that? With those kinds of memories? Yes, I really do. One day.” She caught herself gazing longingly out the kitchen window and gave herself a shake. “I’d hate to see you rush into a decision like this.”
“I appreciate your honesty. Those are qualities that make you an excellent real estate agent.”
Lacey couldn’t resist a laugh. “Not the most prosperous one, though.”
“Success is not always measured in dollar signs.” She gave the packet of information a little pat as she sat back down. “If I ever do sell, you can be sure I will only go to you, Lacey. In the meantime, if you’d be good enough to give me a healthy stack of your business cards, I have a feeling I can get your information out to some possible clients in the future.”
Lacey beamed. “I’ll give you as many as you can handle. Thank you, Edith.”
***
Ordinarily, the sound of a power saw slicing a hole in her family room wall would have been unnerving in the morning. But today, Maeve sat serenely sipping her morning latte, content to ignore the noise as she paged through several books she had purchased on exotic flowers and plants. No boring geraniums for her, she thought happily as she dog-eared pages showcasing the most extraordinary blooms.
Now that construction had begun on her solarium, she could throw herself head-first into her new hobby. One book was already covered in highlighter and yellow sticky notes. A second was filled with scribbles in the margins. This, of course, was why Maeve preferred to buy books rather than check them out at the library.
About halfway through her second cup, a word jumped out from the text.
Toxic.
Toxic? She hadn’t really considered the threat of little fingers reaching up to grab a blossom before. It was definitely something to think about with Bess’s baby on the way. She un-dog-eared the page, and flipped backwards to check the toxicity of her prior selections.
Toxic. Toxic. Toxic. Who knew there were so many toxic plants? Her heart sank. Life was going to be different sharing a house with a child.
Her gaze wandered across the room noting things like exposed outlets and unsecured garbage pails. Cup still in hand, she stood to take a look at the family room and winced at the sight of several pieces of breakable art.
Her entire life was about to change, and it wasn’t even her child. Taking another sip, she made a slight grumbling noise. She had always wanted a child. It took years for her to deal with the reality that that would not happen.
With no family on her horizon, she had been free to invest in frivolous things like hand-blown glass, and imported textiles. Cringing, she remembered the new sofa she had on back-order. It would be a criminal offense to stain it with baby formula—or worse. She bit her lip, wondering if it was too late to cancel the order.
And what about her solarium? She raced back to the kitchen table and thumbed quickly through her book. My God, even geraniums were toxic!
“Glad it’s not raining while they’re doing that,” Bess said as she walked into the kitchen, glancing at the hole which gave a clear view of the side yard.