Sunday, November 09, 2008
The Nice Family
The nice family with ties to my dad must come up with about $800 to close the sale. It was not what they were expecting. They don't have that just lying around in an account, you know. My sister has talked to Wifey numerous times, none of them pleasant. We think the Dear Husband must be a saint.
I received this news on Friday, in the middle of sixth period. It had been a hectic day, one that began with me suddenly realizing at 6:50 a.m that there was a parent conference at 7:00. I was applying mascara and planning to head downstairs for breakfast when it hit me. I rushed to school. Mr. and Mrs. Wesley and their son Thomas sat quietly smiling throughout the conference. Thomas looked nervous. I wondered if he was worried that I was going to ask dad how his tapeworm was. "Mr. Wesley," I could say, "Thomas told us that you pulled a worm out of your butt, that it was two feet long and still coming, that you had to cut it. How's that going?" I wasn't able to work it in to the conversation, though. Maybe next time.
When the secretary put Vicki's call through, Thomas was one of the twenty kids in the class, kids who struggle, who read on a second grade level, kids who cannot be left behind. I was still a bit out of sorts. I had rushed home at lunch to finish the packing I wasn't able to finish that morning because of the parent conference. I was nervous about the afternoon anyway. I was leaving right after this class to meet Vicki in Rust Belt Town for signing. What if something happened? What if the house didn't pass code inspection?
There was a situation. Vicki reported. Their closing costs were more than they had anticipated, $1500 more. They wanted us to pay it. Wifey was pissed-- initially we had agreed to pay closing costs since they offered us the asking price (a huge shock), but our lawyer insisted on putting a cap on it, which had turned out to be a right fine idea. She informed Vicki that they might not come to the meeting, that "this just might not happen." Vic was mad, of course, but thought that it could work out after all. The saintly husband had put in new carpet and done some other updating, so if we had to, we could rent the house out.
This is where things started to go bad. I said the first thing that popped into my head: "I am not renting that house. If you want to rent out that house, you can buy me out, and it'll be your house to rent." I meant it. Renting the house had come up before-- stepfather thought it would be great to flip it, and really make some coin. We could get $500 a month for that house just by putting in $5000 each, and then we'd have a nice investment. We had to lay new carpet, paint all the walls eggshell, and we could really have something good going.
My feelings now were the same as my feelings then-- no, no, and no. I do not want to be a landlord. Apparently, I had not spoken strongly enough then, so I felt I should leave no misunderstandings now. "I'll pay the $1500. I don't mind. Let's just be done with this."
"Well, I guess we have to do that, since YOU apparently have decided and don't care what I think."
"Excuse me?"
"You're paying the money, it doesn't matter what I want."
We argued about this on and off all afternoon-- via cell phones on the interstate, in person in the car as we rode to meet the Nice Family at the lawyer's office, afterwards at Goodfellas, the establishment in my dad's neighborhood where I had watered my stress over the past nine months. She has decided that I can do what I want-- really? You mean it's my money?-- but she'd rather they have to come up the money. So would I. So would I.
We pretty much left it at this: if they don't come up with it by Monday, we evict them and start over. We know how to sell the house now, all the work is done, blah, blah, blah. She did say, however, that she wasn't going to fight with me over paying the money if that's what I wanted to do. Upon further reflection and much beer last night, I don't think I'm going with the plan after all. I am not willing to allow $800 to keep me in this game. (The original figure of $1500 was wrong, it seems.) If this deal falls through, we may not get another bite on the house for months. It's highly doubtful that anyone's going to offer us full price. We could stand on principle for $800 and end up netting several thousand dollars less. I hope she can take it.
I received this news on Friday, in the middle of sixth period. It had been a hectic day, one that began with me suddenly realizing at 6:50 a.m that there was a parent conference at 7:00. I was applying mascara and planning to head downstairs for breakfast when it hit me. I rushed to school. Mr. and Mrs. Wesley and their son Thomas sat quietly smiling throughout the conference. Thomas looked nervous. I wondered if he was worried that I was going to ask dad how his tapeworm was. "Mr. Wesley," I could say, "Thomas told us that you pulled a worm out of your butt, that it was two feet long and still coming, that you had to cut it. How's that going?" I wasn't able to work it in to the conversation, though. Maybe next time.
When the secretary put Vicki's call through, Thomas was one of the twenty kids in the class, kids who struggle, who read on a second grade level, kids who cannot be left behind. I was still a bit out of sorts. I had rushed home at lunch to finish the packing I wasn't able to finish that morning because of the parent conference. I was nervous about the afternoon anyway. I was leaving right after this class to meet Vicki in Rust Belt Town for signing. What if something happened? What if the house didn't pass code inspection?
There was a situation. Vicki reported. Their closing costs were more than they had anticipated, $1500 more. They wanted us to pay it. Wifey was pissed-- initially we had agreed to pay closing costs since they offered us the asking price (a huge shock), but our lawyer insisted on putting a cap on it, which had turned out to be a right fine idea. She informed Vicki that they might not come to the meeting, that "this just might not happen." Vic was mad, of course, but thought that it could work out after all. The saintly husband had put in new carpet and done some other updating, so if we had to, we could rent the house out.
This is where things started to go bad. I said the first thing that popped into my head: "I am not renting that house. If you want to rent out that house, you can buy me out, and it'll be your house to rent." I meant it. Renting the house had come up before-- stepfather thought it would be great to flip it, and really make some coin. We could get $500 a month for that house just by putting in $5000 each, and then we'd have a nice investment. We had to lay new carpet, paint all the walls eggshell, and we could really have something good going.
My feelings now were the same as my feelings then-- no, no, and no. I do not want to be a landlord. Apparently, I had not spoken strongly enough then, so I felt I should leave no misunderstandings now. "I'll pay the $1500. I don't mind. Let's just be done with this."
"Well, I guess we have to do that, since YOU apparently have decided and don't care what I think."
"Excuse me?"
"You're paying the money, it doesn't matter what I want."
We argued about this on and off all afternoon-- via cell phones on the interstate, in person in the car as we rode to meet the Nice Family at the lawyer's office, afterwards at Goodfellas, the establishment in my dad's neighborhood where I had watered my stress over the past nine months. She has decided that I can do what I want-- really? You mean it's my money?-- but she'd rather they have to come up the money. So would I. So would I.
We pretty much left it at this: if they don't come up with it by Monday, we evict them and start over. We know how to sell the house now, all the work is done, blah, blah, blah. She did say, however, that she wasn't going to fight with me over paying the money if that's what I wanted to do. Upon further reflection and much beer last night, I don't think I'm going with the plan after all. I am not willing to allow $800 to keep me in this game. (The original figure of $1500 was wrong, it seems.) If this deal falls through, we may not get another bite on the house for months. It's highly doubtful that anyone's going to offer us full price. We could stand on principle for $800 and end up netting several thousand dollars less. I hope she can take it.
# posted by Chrissy Snow @ 11/09/2008 11:43:00 AM 
