Jackie

“Jackie,” Carole Levine called me. “I have an offer to present to you. What’s the drill? Do we need to get Brent there as well?” After a big tussle, Carole had won out over Brent’s agent. I liked her right away. Her price was $50,000 higher, and she had a better marketing package. His agent had been smarmy and sexist; he kept addressing his answers to Brent even when I asked the questions.

“Yeah, we should. He’s going to have a zillion questions I’ll never think of.” I checked the calendar. “Look, it’s Wednesday. He’ll be coming by to pick up the kids for his night. I’ll try to get him here earlier, and we can do everything at once.”

She agreed, and then I called Brent.

“An offer already? I hope it’s not some low-ball deal,” he grumbled.

“What’s the problem? You’re not being inconvenienced in any way at all. You were coming here anyway.”

“I told you we should have used Andrew as our realtor. Then I’d know that everything was being done right.”

“Brent! We went through this before—Carole had a higher listing price. You’re the one who’s all about not leaving money on the table. She said that the open houses went great, there were tons of people here, and someone was very interested. What more do you want? We haven’t even heard the offer yet.”

There was a moment of silence. I never talked back to Brent.

Sharon’s words were echoing in my head. I couldn’t believe all the crap you took from Brent. For so long, I never questioned whether he was right or wrong. After he left, I had too many reasons to be nice to him: hoping he’d come back, negotiating our settlement, for the sake of the kids. But now everything was settled, and he was beginning to get on my nerves. We weren’t married anymore yet he still treated me the same way—as if I was too dumb to understand things.

“Okay, I’ll come over by 4:30,” he said. Maybe I needed to take a firmer stand with Brent. It was tough because we fell into our old roles whenever we spoke. He was the opinionated one, and I was the peacemaker.

The kids came home, had a snack, and went straight to their rooms to do their homework. That was the drill on Dad Night.

Carole appeared early in her bright red suit with matching lipstick. She reminded me of a hummingbird, always in motion. She took the coffee I offered and sat down in the living room.

“Your home is so gorgeous. Always open house ready—you’re a realtor’s dream.”

“Oh, believe me, there’s a lot of cleaning up involved beforehand. And the kids think I’ve turned into a nagging machine. We’ll all get to exhale once the place has sold.”

She nodded vigorously. “Maybe that will be soon.”

There was a rap on the door, and Brent walked right in. We moved into the dining room.

“I have great news. I have an offer on the house, and it’s a good one.” Carole took papers out of her briefcase. “A family from Calgary fell in love with your home. Their offer is at our asking price, but more than that—” She paused dramatically. “Since they have two children, they really want to move in during the summer and get settled. I know your preference is to close at the end of the summer, but they’ve offered a $20,000 bonus if you’re willing to move at the end of June.”

My brain tried to wrap around this. The fact that we got our asking price was great and validated my decision to go with Carole. But it was already May, and there was no way that I could pack up the house and find a new place in that time.

Brent nodded. “That sounds like a great deal. Moving out early shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Brent! I can’t do that. There are too many things to do in that time. And we haven’t got a new place to move to yet.”

“It’s a big whack of cash, Jackie. We could pay for professional movers out of that and still make money. I’m sure Carole here can help you find a new place.”

I shook my head. “There’s no way. The kids finish school in late June, and they have things on. And I signed them up for summer camps.”

“What’s the big deal? They can go to camp from wherever they live. I don’t think you understand the value of a dollar.”

“I think I do. If we had gone with your realtor, we’d have already lost fifty thousand by now.”

Carole cleared her throat. “Perhaps I can make a suggestion.”

We both looked over, and she was radiating calm. As a real estate agent for divorcing couples, she needed to be a part-time diplomat and psychologist. “What about the end of July, Jackie? Do you think you could be ready to move by then? We could suggest splitting the bonus in half then. And you might consider renting first, while you’re looking for a new home.”

“I need a little time to think about this,” I said. Brent continued talking about how easy it was all going to be, but I tuned him out. I was sad to be leaving my beloved home, but perhaps it would be better for our kids as well. They could get settled in a new place before school.

We signed the counter offer and left Carole in the dining room to make some phone calls.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” I asked, but Brent shook his head.

“Let’s not celebrate until this thing is done,” he commanded. He looked around the living room with satisfaction. “See, Jackie, the new art really sets off the place. It’s, you know, subtle.”

I allowed myself a smirk. Brent had never cottoned onto the fact that I’d basically camouflaged the original artwork. All he knew that there was less colour, so it must be more refined. And it bugged me that he was taking credit for art directing the interior decoration, when I’d done all the work.

“I’ll send you the bill for the new art.”

He squinted. “Looks expensive. What gallery did you get it at? You should have rented instead of buying.”

I shook my head. “Refined, subtle art never comes cheap. You of all people should know that.”

“Actually, they might look nice at my new place. Maybe I’ll buy them from you.”

I really had to bite my tongue now. Brent would never have my art at his place. I’d have to invent a good story about some important artist.

Carole joined us in the living room. “Great news! You’ve sold your house. Congratulations.”

Brent smiled and shook Carole’s hand. “Thank you so much, Carole. Great work.”

“It was a pleasure. And Jackie did such a fantastic job on the house, it made my job that much easier.”

“Yeah, she’s always been good at decorating,” he agreed. He made it sound like nothing, but it was my next job. I was halfway through collecting items for Fiona’s project, and I’d already begun drawing up plans for Amanda’s new place.

We told the kids the place was sold before they left with Brent. Not that it was a shock, but the finality of a sale and a moving date was hard on them. I could see that Tristan was upset, but he didn’t want to cry in front of his dad. Brent whisked them both off to dinner with his parents. It would be up to him to deal with all the fallout of losing the only home they’d known.

Leo was out of town so we had no dinner plans. I wandered around the house, touching things: the couch in the family room where we sat for movie night; the doorframe where we marked the height and ages of the kids, the dent from when Brent had swung Hannah up too high and her feet hit the ceiling. Finally, I sat down on Tristan’s bed. He had the worst nightmares, and I’d come in and lie down with him. The night would be so quiet, and all I could hear would be Tristan’s uneven breathing and the ticking of the grandfather clock. Brent had taken that clock with him, so right now the house was completely silent.

For so long, I’d tried to keep everything the same. Our home was a fortress against a world that was coming apart. Now that fortress wasn’t ours any longer. I knew it was time, and I wasn’t afraid of the change. But all the memories of happy times were flooding my brain. That beautiful life that I assumed would last forever.

I buried my head into Tristan’s pillow and cried.