Chapter 8
Annie readied herself for school one Friday morning in early February. I’d gotten up ahead of her, already showered and dressed for the day. The coffee was brewing, and I’d poured myself a bowl of Multi-grain Cheerios and landed on a chair at the table to dig in. Her purse rested there beside her keys. Sticking out of the purse were several sheets of paper folded in half. I took them out to investigate.
Unfolding them, I saw they were spec sheets, home listings. It looked like she had printed them off the computer. All of them were very nice, one more deluxe than the next. Another thing they all had in common was being out of our price range, by thousands, even tens of thousands. I poured a cup of coffee and sat back down with my finger over my mouth as I waited for her to make her entrance.
Coming right over to me, she put her arms around my neck and kissed me, smelling like lilies of the valley and toothpaste. I kissed her back and ran my hands over Little Beanie, like I did at least once every morning and every night. She was smiling when she glanced down at the table and noticed what I had helped myself to from her purse. An eyebrow went up.
“I see you found what I was doing last night while you watched Ninja Warrior.”
“Yeah, I thought we were going to look together.”
“We are—I was just doing some advance checking.”
“Annie, these houses are all way too expensive. Why would you even consider them when you know you can’t have it?”
“Well—because—why do you get to tell me what I can or can’t have?”
“Seriously? When we first started talking about it, and we went to the bank about a loan, they decided the amount we could spend. Have you forgotten that?” I was irritated, but I tried to lighten the mood a little. “Did the baby take over that part of your brain?” I cocked my head, she was always making comments about having pregnancy brain.
“My brain is fine, Mike,” she snapped, scooping up the papers and jamming them back into her purse. “Excuse me for having the audacity to do something on my own! Geez!”
Putting my arm around her waist, I pulled her close and kissed her again. “I’m sorry. I just—you know how I am about money.”
She rolled her eyes and gave me a weak smile. “Oh, yes. I know very well about you and money.”
“We’re getting together with the realtor tomorrow, right?”
“You know we are.”
“Okay, we’ll let her show us what’s out there. I know we’ll find the perfect place.”
She gave an unconvincing “humph” sound, turning to get herself a cup of coffee, and I shook my head. She didn’t use her puppy dog eyes or her pouty face to try to get her way with me. That wasn’t like her. Hormones—they must be screwing with her. I wasn’t going to stir things up any further.
The next morning at nine a.m., we met with Sonya Grecca, a little firecracker of a woman. Definitely past her prime, but her dyed dark hair and makeup were done to perfection. She wore a stylish leather coat and ushered us around in a shiny black Escalade. Her cheery and optimistic attitude had us believing she knew her business inside out. She had a list of several houses to show us.
We saw a half-dozen places. I caught Annie smiling once, and that was only because the house was so pathetic. All of them would be called “fixer uppers” or good “starter homes.” I wasn’t all that handy, but I could certainly handle a paint brush and tackle minor repairs.
Sonya observed her clients’ dissatisfaction and questioned Annie about it.
“I was hoping for something more move-in ready, more modern, updated, like in the Willow Heights neighborhood or Presque Park. We have to think about schools and playgrounds, the kind of neighborhood where our kids will be growing up.”
“Well, I can certainly show you some places over in those areas, but you’re going to be over your budget, I’ll guarantee it.”
With a mean snigger, Annie looked at me as she said, “Oh, my husband won’t even let me look.”
My arm circled her in the back of the SUV headed to the seventh and final destination for the morning. My eyes narrowed a little at Annie. To Sonya, I defended myself. “We have a limit we can’t go above. I figure, why look at something we know we can’t afford? It’ll just make us feel bad.”
“Well, you both have a point,” Sonya replied. “Sometimes when you see something that you just love, it gives you ideas for remodeling the place you can afford into something you’ll love, too. Think about it.”
Hmmm, I suspected my wife and Sonya were conspiring against me. The last house completed the disastrous venture. As we drove back home from her office, I tried to point out some of the positives about the homes we saw.
“Mike, face it. We’re going to have to be willing to spend a little more to get something that is halfway decent.”
“This was our first day of really looking. You can’t expect to find the right house on the first try. Just be patient. You can’t be so willing to jeopardize our entire future for instant gratification.”
“Oh my God, you’re such a drama queen! I’m not jeopardizing anything. We both have good incomes, you already got a good raise, and more will come.”
“We don’t know that! I don’t want us to never be able to afford a vacation or even go out once in a while because everything we make has to go to pay off a house. I’m not living like that.” She rolled her eyes and turned toward the window, the conversation over. My hand rested on her knee, and I gave it a squeeze. I didn’t like arguing with her.
~ ~ ~
The following day was Super Sunday. Oh yeah! That meant a football party at Pete and Julie’s. But first we were officially welcomed into the congregation at church. A little reception followed the service with baked goods and coffee. We hung out with the family for a bit. Smiles hid the underlying house-related tension as we munched on cake, and we breathed a little easier now that we’d actually managed to complete the class without being exiled from the church.
Then we headed home, so we could make the seven layer salad as our contribution for the Super Bowl gathering. We arrived at Pete’s an hour before the start of the game. The Strebechs were also coming.
Since I’d started working and hanging out with Dalton, it just seemed like a good fit to introduce him and his wife, Lucy, to Pete and Julie. The six of us were together a lot, seven counting Finn, soon to be eight with our Little Beanie.
As we opened beers and dove into the snacks, we let Finn entertain us. He was now into crawling and pulling himself up on people and things. I chased him around on my hands and knees, and he was at once fascinated and still kind of puzzled as to why I was suddenly on the floor by him. He’d scream—in a gleeful kind of way—and scoot away, then stop and turn around, waiting for me to say, “I’m gonna get you!” and come after him again.
Well, I did my part to wear him out so that he’d be napping when the game started, but he had other ideas. The girls took him off to the kitchen area so his fussing wouldn’t interrupt us. Pre-game rambling played, so no one really cared.
It got pretty quiet, then all of a sudden Julie said, “Really, Mike? You won’t even look at any of the houses Annie likes?”
Pete looked at me incredulously. “Ooooo—Mikey, tell me that isn’t true!”
I smiled, shaking my head. “We only started looking yesterday.”
“And I didn’t have anything to say about what we saw!”
“You said plenty. You hated every one of them!” I snapped.
“Okay, you two. We came here to have fun and watch the game.” It was Lucy talking. “But Mike, FYI, ‘happy wife, happy life.’”
“Oh yeah!” Dalton replied, and everyone laughed and nodded in agreement. That ended the conversation, and I sent a scathing little look to my wife, who gave me a smirking victory smile.
Monday at lunch, I sat at a table with Dalton, still trying to justify my unwillingness to budge on the house thing, when Callie Warner sauntered up and sat down next to me. She’d obviously been eavesdropping on the conversation. “Uh oh, the honeymoon over, Mike?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee and looking up at me through those thick, abnormally long lashes.
“No, we’re good—just a difference of opinion.” There came that uneasy feeling, again. Why did she have to land right next to me, our knees almost touching? Shifting away from her, I glanced across at Dalton, who crunched up his empty wrappers from lunch and stuffed the reusable containers back into his nylon bag. Hey you, don’t leave me here with her! I knew from past exchanges that Dalton wasn’t a fan of Callie. He pushed back and mumbled something about making some calls, then left. I continued eating.
“Is your wife into the bitchy phase of her pregnancy? I can’t imagine she’s much fun these days.” She put her hand on my forearm and smiled coyly, batting those lashes. “We could go for a drink after work and talk about it if you want.”
“Callie!” Freeing my arm like her fingers scorched me, I slid my chair back. “There isn’t anything that I want to talk about with you. My life is none of your business, and I’m not interested, so just back off!” Standing up too fast, I spilled my cup of water. Swearing under my breath, I left to get some paper towels. When I returned, she was still there, just gawking at me, seeming to enjoy the fact that she had gotten me so flustered.
Finally, she stood up. As she left, she cooed, “Interesting reaction, Mike. See you around.”
Shaking my head, I blew out a breath. Holy crap, what was that?
~ ~ ~
The following Saturday we had another appointment with Sonya Grecca. This time, she showed us houses more to Annie’s liking. As we walked up to the first one, a sprawling brick ranch with a porch and a white vinyl fence, I remained silent. The interior was open and flowing, with hardwood floors, granite counters, and new appliances. Annie made only positive remarks, practically dancing through the rooms, hanging on me and pointing out all the features she loved about it. When we heard the price, she hardly flinched. But to me it was a sock in the stomach. Forty-thousand over, forty-thousand! I stood with my hand on my head, unable or unwilling to speak. Sonya deliberately focused on Annie, who could hardly wait to get to the next place.
So the morning went. We saw five more houses, couldn’t afford any of them, but that didn’t curb Annie’s enthusiasm. We drove home in silence until she finally shifted around to look at me. “You can’t deny that those houses were so much nicer, Mike.”
“Of course they were nicer. Were you even paying attention when she told us the prices, Annie? I’m willing to go a little higher, but forty or fifty-thousand just isn’t realistic, at all. We can’t do it.”
“You’re being so stubborn.”
“Honey—I’m not. I’m being practical.” Oh, geez, she wasn’t willing to negotiate, at all.
~ ~ ~
Valentine’s Day. In a couple of days, we were supposed to go look at more houses, and I didn’t even want to think about that. If we weren’t talking houses, things seemed to be good, and I didn’t want to rock the boat.
I’d bought Annie flowers and a really pretty gold heart necklace, and we had plans to go out for dinner. When I got home from work, she flitted around acting rather giddy. She wore the other new maternity dress she’d gotten at Christmas from her mom. I put the necklace around her and kissed her neck, taking in a full breath of her. When she turned around, she handed me a card. Sitting down, I slid my finger under the flap and worked it open.
As I read the printed verse, I sucked in my lips. It was all mushy and sweet. Then I came to the part she’d written. I felt my face fall, and I read it a second time. “We don’t have to worry about the house. My mom is giving us $50,000 for the down payment—yay!” I was guessing I had tears in my eyes, because she became all blurry to me.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Annie? You went to your mom?”
“Mike? Where are you going?”
Pulling on my jacket, I was already at the door.
“I have no idea!” I yelled, and I left. After a couple of blocks, with no clue of where I was heading, I pulled into a parking lot. My fists slammed against the steering wheel as I tipped my head back against the headrest. My hand swiped away the wetness by my eyes. Now what? I needed to talk to someone. Pete? Dalton? Mom? Dad? Tom? Yeah, Tom.
I knocked at the door, and Kellie opened it, her dad behind her. “Can I talk to you?” I knew I looked like hell.
“Me and Karlie are making a special Valentine’s dinner for Daddy!” Kellie bubbled.
My eyes met Tom’s. “Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry—I’ll—just, I’ll call you later or something—”
Shaking his head, Tom gave me his easy smile. “No problem, Mikey. Get your butt in here. Kellie—go set another plate for Uncle. We’re having mac and cheese and hot dogs made by the girls.” Kellie ran off, and Tom turned back to me. “What’s up?”
Before I could even start, we were called to eat. Not the least bit hungry, I had two sets of eyes watching my every move, and so did Tom. We didn’t dare let them down, but unlike my brother, I refused seconds and thirds. They even had special cupcakes they made, loaded with so many sugary toppings they shed when you picked one up. I forced myself to eat one of them, too. When we finished, Sheri kept the girls in the kitchen by her to help clean up.
Tom and I went in the living room. I filled him in on what had happened, sitting bent over with my hands pressed together, elbows on my knees.
“I don’t know what to do,” I offered glumly.
“Look, Mike, you knew when you married her that you were getting a little rich girl. She’s probably gotten everything she ever wanted her whole life. You must have talked about this stuff before you got married, right?” A blank stare followed the shake of my head. “So you never discussed finances and budgets?”
“She knows how I am about that stuff. I worked my butt off so I could pay for college and not have a shitload of loans and debt. She knows that! I can’t just spend money we don’t have.”
“Hey, I wouldn’t feel too bad if someone wanted to hand me fifty grand!”
I gave him a dirty look.
“Kidding, Mike! I know how you are, and she knows how you are, but have you ever asked her how she looks at it?”
Another empty stare.
“I didn’t think so. Bro, you need to go home, and you need to talk to her! Work it out. You have a baby coming soon. Find a way to get beyond this and do it now. Because once that kid comes, oh man, your life is going to change. Go home, Mike. It’s the best advice I have for you.” He handed me my jacket and slapped me on the back as I went out the door.
Home—the last place I wanted to be. I went to Starbucks, bought a coffee and sat there watching mostly teenaged couples wander in for a Valentine’s special being offered. Resolving nothing, I finally did go home.
Annie was waiting. She’d been crying, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Her pretty dress gone, she wore her flannel pajama pants and a stretchy long sleeve top. She sat staring at me as I took off my jacket and rubbed my face with my hands.
“Can we talk?”
“I don’t think so—I’m not ready.” Walking past her, I went into the bedroom and she followed. I had to side step to get into the closet because the bed took up the whole damned room, so I sidled over and pulled a blanket off the top shelf and grabbed my pillow. “I’m sleeping on the couch.” Her hand covered her mouth. It didn’t hide her sob and tears flowed down her cheeks. She looked so hurt when I brushed against her belly to get out.
When I awoke around four in the morning to go pee, Annie was sitting in the chair wrapped in a blanket. As I sat back on the couch, she said, “At least one of us got some sleep.”
“You didn’t?” I said, suddenly guilty that I’d actually slept some.
“I called my mom last night and told her we don’t want the money.” She focused on her hands as I stayed silent. “Will you please say something?”
What I had to say was so painful to admit to her. My voice trembled, my eyes swimming. I inhaled a deep breath. “I feel like you don’t trust me enough to take care of you—so you use your mom as a back-up plan when I don’t measure up.” Tears streaked down my face.
“Mike! That’s not true! I have never felt neglected or denied—just the opposite. You go out of your way to make me happy, and I am happy. Yes, I had a privileged life growing up, and maybe I’m acting like a brat now about this house, but I would live in a shack with you, and that’s the bottom line. I don’t need the best of everything, but I do need you—for sure.”
“Then why did you go to your mom?”
“Because she’s my mom, and I always have. Throwing money at a problem was always an easy solution. We’re all each other has, or we were, until I met you. She loves to do things for me, for us. It’s not a knock on you, that’s how she is. She wants to help us, and we have to let her sometimes.”
“Not with fifty grand.” I used my sleeve to wipe my face.
“I get that, I get you. I made you feel disrespected, and I never meant it that way. I’m sorry, Mike. Forgive me?”
I opened my arms, and she caved in my lap. We kissed and cuddled, then kissed some more. Finally, I bundled her up in the blanket on the couch and told her to try to catch a few winks while I showered, then made us breakfast.
After Annie came out of the bathroom, with her robe on and hair up in a towel, she came over by me as I finished setting the table. She put her hands around my chest, with her face on my back. “Babe—you swore at me last night.”
“I know. I’m an ass, and I’m sorry.”
“You need to clean up that potty mouth before our child is born.”
“Oh—okay,” I said, smiling as I took one of her hands and kissed it. “I can do that. Little Beanie will never hear any of that shit come out of my mouth.”
Annie pinched me.