I would, I’d told him, and that was that.
My phone vibrates on the counter, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. I scramble for a dishtowel, quickly dry my hands, and then swipe to view the text in full. It reads that an offer was made on one of my listings. I smile at the heavens. Maybe Dana has a point. Maybe it can’t hurt to spend more time counting one’s blessings.
Before placing the phone back on the counter, I glance at the screen. There are two missed calls from my broker. I sigh and lay it face down, throwing the dishtowel over the top of it. It’s family day, so she’ll have to wait. Greg and I made a deal early on to be present when we were at home with the girls. So I try to keep my phone out of sight, and on vibrate as much as possible.
It vibrates again like a siren calling. I walk away. And then turn back. I can’t help myself. Another text has come through. Also from Dana. Girl, if you don’t call me back in two minutes, I’m passing this on to Sharon.
Tapping her name on my screen, I brace myself.
“Dana,” I say, scooting out the back door and onto the patio. “What’s up?” Rocky flings himself forward, knocking me into the doorframe with a thud. He circles me several times, stopping only long enough to press his wet nose up against my upper thigh. Before I can get my next sentence out, the girls are out the door behind me. They chase after the dog, making a proper game of it. Between his barking and their shrill giggles, I can’t make out a thing Dana is saying. But whatever it is, I can guarantee she knows I don’t want her to pass anything on to Sharon. I have every intention of hitting gold status this month, and I’m close, so close.
“Hello?”
“I’m here,” I say, before pressing the mute button. “Naomi, go find your shin guards. Tell your dad to help you with them.”
“Amy?”
“I’m here.” When there’s silence I realize the phone is still on mute. “Blair, stop coloring on the dog.”
Dana sighs so heavily I’m forced to pull the phone away from my ear. “Are you there? Maybe I—”
“Sorry,” I say, taking her off of mute. “It’s chaos around here.”
“I can hear that.”
I figure she’s about to launch into one of her tirades about how every time we speak it reminds her why she doesn’t have children, but today she surprises me. She must be pressed for time. “Anyway—,” she says. “Listen, I’m supposed to hold this open house at eleven—it’s the Clairmont listing—you know the one?”
“Sure.” I realize what’s coming next and I’ve already prepared my response.
“It’s pretty much a done deal, the sale—”
“That’s great,” I say, cutting her off.
“Well…sort of. A few clients are coming over to take a look. I wanted to hold the open house, just to see who else the cat might drag in… you know what I mean? A house like that draws attention. For sure, there will be multiple offers.”
“Right.” Blair changes up her color of choice. Instead of yellow, the dog is quickly becoming a pale shade of purple. I wave her off, but it’s pointless. My brow furrows. I remember specifically telling Greg to put the markers up.
As Dana prattles on about comps, and God knows what, a dry cough catches my attention. When I look up, Mrs. Crump is peering over the fence. I give a cheerful wave. She nods, a familiar look of disapproval written on her face. I don’t take it personally. Her face is always fixed like that. I sold her the house, and Greg likes to tease that I could have, that I should have found a more cheerful neighbor. At least she’s quiet, I tell him. And anyway, by the looks of it, I can’t imagine she’s had an easy life.
“So you’ll do it?”
The dog brushes up against me, smearing purple onto my favorite pajamas. “Huh?”
“You’ll handle the open house?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Dana—but Naomi has a soccer game.”
“You weren’t even listening, were you?”
“Of course I was…but…it’s family day.”
“Realtors don’t get family days,” she says dryly.
“I—”
“Well, if you were listening, you would’ve heard that I promised you a cut of two thousand dollars. With that and a little extra push, you’d be almost guaranteed to hit gold. You’d probably even have a little extra left over to put toward our couples trip.” She scoffs dramatically. “I knew I should have called Sharon.”
I smile. Bless her. She means well.
“Two thousand…” I say, but really all I’m thinking about is a white sandy beach with no children in sight.
“See! You weren’t listening.”
“Well—”
“I bet she won’t even notice you missed the game. Come on, Amy—do the math—the kid’s eight. How many more soccer games do you imagine she’ll take part in throughout her adolescence?”
This is why Dana runs the top agency in the county. She knows how to sell. She knows which buttons to push. I do the math in my head. “11:00 to 1:00?”
“Sure, you could probably even cut out by 12:30 if you want. At this price point, you know how buyers are. They don’t dilly-dally.”
She isn’t wrong. If I cut out at 12:30, I could make the last quarter of Naomi’s game. I want to say yes, but then I see Greg out of the corner of my eye. He’s bent down in front of our daughter, wrangling with her and the laces on her soccer cleats. I’ve never been more in love. He looks up at me and gestures with his hands. The signal for starting an ignition. He’s lost the car keys again. I mute the phone. “The spare set is in the drawer.”
“Amy? Are you there?”
“I’m still here.”
“Listen—Trevor’s absolutely beside himself. The cleaners dropped one of his singing bowls and it’s irreplaceable.”
Greg senses me watching him sift through the contents of the drawer. He makes a gesture as though to ask who’s on the phone and why this person is more important than locating our car keys so we aren’t late. I hold up one finger, signaling I’ll only be a minute. “What’s a singing bowl?”
“You know—a singing bowl. This one was valued at over five grand. From Tibet—he warned me, Amy, he did. I should have fired that crew long ago. They were even drinking our LaCroix. Can you believe that? Trevor counted,” she says incredulously. “Anyway, I really need to be around here to cheer him up. You know how it is.”
I do not, in fact, know how it is. But I think about easy money and gold status and the sand between my toes. “Okay,” I say. “I’m in.”
Chapter Three
The way she pets the dog brings a level of excitement he’d forgotten existed. So much raw potential. And how long has it been since someone looked at him that way? Too long.
A problem he intends to rectify as soon as the opportunity presents itself. And it will.
For now, there’s something uniquely satisfying about watching a person when they don’t know they’re being observed. The way she fingers her hair when she’s nervous, he notices. The way she cocks her head when she laughs, he makes a note of that too. Her mouth, it does things to him. Only in theory at this point. But that will soon change. The thought pulls a smile across his entire face. This time will be different.