Chapter 10 - Monica Walked Through Our Life With A Tape Measure
Monica wasn't sentimental.
I liked her immediately.
Sarah probably did too.
That annoyed me.
She walked through the house making notes.
“Roof?”
“New.”
“Permit?”
“Being closed.”
“Siding?”
“New south elevation.”
“Fence?”
“Rebuilt.”
“HVAC age?”
“Twelve years.”
She made a face.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That's a face.”
“Buyers like newer.”
I hated buyers already.
She walked upstairs.
Sarah followed.
I stayed behind for a minute because watching someone evaluate our bedroom felt intrusive.
Then I remembered I had invited her.
Upstairs, Monica looked into the guest room.
The ceiling stain had been cut out.
James had already corrected the flashing and the area had stayed dry through another rain.
“Repair documentation?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then she asked:
“Lien?”
I looked at Sarah.
She had told her.
“Being resolved.”
“That needs to be clean before closing.”
“We know.”
“How soon?”
“Hopefully two weeks.”
Monica nodded.
Back outside, she stood at the curb and looked at the house.
“It's attractive.”
I laughed.
“That sounded like a doctor saying stable.”
She smiled.
“I’m not here to fall in love with it.”
Sarah said:
“What's it worth?”
Monica gave a range.
Higher than I expected.
Low end: $635,000.
Upper: maybe $675,000 if timing and buyer interest worked.
Mortgage balance just over $210,000.
Even after selling costs, the number left was substantial.
I felt physically defensive.
Sarah saw.
Monica continued:
“You could downsize and carry far less insurance exposure.”
“What if we stay?”
“You have a lot of equity.”
“That wasn't my question.”
She looked at me.
“Financially?”
“Yes.”
“You can afford to stay if your income supports the new insurance and ongoing maintenance.”
“And emotionally?” Sarah asked.
Monica smiled.
“That costs extra.”
After she left, Sarah sat on the front steps.
I joined her.
Cars passed.
One neighbor waved.
I waved back.
Sarah said:
“How much of your reaction is the house?”
“What does that mean?”
“How much is you loving this house, and how much is selling feeling like admitting the repairs were wasted?”
I stared at the street.
“That's unfair.”
“Probably.”
I thought.
Then:
“Some.”
She nodded.
“What about you?”
“What?”
“How much do you want to sell because staying makes you feel stupid?”
Sarah looked at me.
Fair.
“Some.”
We sat.
I said:
“I hate that somebody can reduce eleven years to six-fifty.”
“She gave a range.”
“Not helping.”
Sarah smiled.
Then:
“I don't need to move tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“I don't even know if I want to.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“You're becoming very irritating.”
“Apparently uncertainty is free.”
She laughed.
The front gate opened.
Caleb came through carrying an envelope.
Sarah stiffened.
He noticed.
“It's not bad.”
“Strong opening,” I said.
He handed it to me.
Harbor had agreed on the amount tied to materials remaining or incorporated at our property after verifying returns and removals.
$14,920.
Still painful.
Far better than $26,480.
Caleb had paid them six thousand from the van sale and material returns.
That money was applied partly to his broader account.
Harbor would release the lien on our property once we paid $10,000 directly and Caleb signed a separate repayment arrangement for the rest attributed to his company.
I looked at him.
“You negotiated this?”
“Angela did most.”
“Can we pay ten?”
Sarah and I looked at each other.
Yes.
Barely.
Savings afterward would be almost nothing.
Sarah said:
“I want the release in writing before money moves.”
Caleb nodded.
“Angela expected that.”
Good.
Then he handed me a second item.
Not a letter.
His contractor business card.
MERCER EXTERIOR RESTORATION.
He had crossed out OWNER with a pen.
Below it he'd written:
FOREMAN — JAMES BELL ROOFING.
I looked up.
“You took the job.”
“Starts Monday.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like I got demoted in my own life.”
I understood more than I wanted to.
Caleb looked at Sarah.
“I’ll pay you back.”
She shook her head.
“Pay Harbor.”
Then she added:
“And don't make Daniel collect.”
Caleb looked at me.
That had been our pattern too.
Brother becomes lender.
Lender becomes parent.
Parent becomes angry.
“Okay.”
He left.
Sarah watched him go.
Then looked at me.
“Do you want to save the card?”
I looked at Caleb's old business card.
For a second I almost put it in my wallet.
Instead I set it on the porch rail.
“If he wants to start again someday, he'll print another one.”
May you like
Sarah nodded.
The house did not need another memorial to a business that had already cost enough.
