“Now for you,” she said to the two remaining piles of paper. “You can go back in your drawer,” she said to the stuff she wasn’t sure whether she needed or not. “And you,” she said, addressing the important papers, “You get a new home. I just need to figure out where to put you.” She looked around for a file folder. She finally found one, marked it “Important papers,” and stuffed all the paperwork into it.
“Alrighty then,” she said. “Looks to me like Lori has earned another glass of wine.” She poured herself another, and texted Jake. “Ready to move forward with looking at houses!” She hit send. Only then did she realize it was 3 a.m. Oops. But he answered back immediately. “Great! Do you want to talk now, or is morning OK?”
“Morning is OK. Sorry, I’m on ER time,” she said. That sounded better than “Sorry, I’m a little drunk,” she thought. She knocked back the glass of wine — it was cheap so she didn’t feel bad about not savoring the bouquet and all that other bull that her most recent wine-snob boyfriend blathered on about — downed a glass of water to guard against hangover and got ready for bed. Tomorrow, she decided, would be another day. Hell, she might even wash the dishes in the oven.
Chapter 5
Lori awoke with a sense of purpose. Today was the day. She arranged an appointment with the agent and began pulling items from the oven. Some of the plastic containers were beyond gross. She threw them out, first taking out the existing garbage to make room for them. She emptied the sink, gave it a quick scrub, and filled it with hot, soapy water. No way would her dishwasher be able to handle the dried-on gunk of some of these. While they soaked, she cleaned her counters and somewhat organized one of her cabinets so she’d have room for the clean dishes. She donned her rubber gloves — she wasn’t about to sacrifice her manicure for this — and washed every dirty dish in the house. She felt an immense satisfaction at having dealt with all this at last. Then she took a look at the inside of her fridge. Sigh. It was a mess of expired milk, old take-out containers, leftovers she hadn’t finished and some wilted veggies she’d bought and never done anything with. All of it went into the trash, which was overflowing again. She took out the trash and started another sinkful of soapy water to wash the empty containers. Then she scrubbed the inside of the refrigerator and returned all the ketchup, jelly, syrup and everything else that was still good — which wasn’t much. The fridge was mostly empty now. Maybe she’d hit the grocery store after her meeting with Jake, but she’d make an actual menu to avoid having so many vegetables die a slow death of neglect.
Feeling immensely pleased with herself, she got ready for her appointment with Jake. After her shower, she opened her closet and that feeling of accomplishment faded a bit. Dirty clothes filled the bottom of her closet. She loaded up three baskets with them, vowing to deal with them later. She located a shopping bag with several wrinkled and never-worn items she’d purchased and forgotten about. “Yep, I think Lori might have a little shopping problem,” she said aloud. “We’re not gonna do this anymore.” She removed the tags from each item and tossed the garments into the dirty clothes baskets. She returned to her closet and chose a pair of tight jeans that showed off her curves, a cool pair of cream-colored boots and a clingy green top. She sorted through her scarves, chose one, and carefully tied it in a manner that looked casually done, even though it took her three tries to get it to look just right. Green was her favorite color to wear. It showed off her green eyes. They were naturally hazel, but she paid extra for green-tinted contacts.
She cast a disparaging eye on the baskets of dirty clothes and scowled when she realized one of the baskets had a pile of clothes that she’d washed last week but had never folded and put away. Well, they were all mixed up with the dirty clothes now and would have to be re-washed.
She met Jake at his office. Checking out her appearance in the reflective glass door, she thought nobody would guess she’d spent her morning cleaning and organizing. If she did say so herself, she looked cool and collected. She carried an oversized leather bag that matched her boots. Inside was her folder of documents he’d asked her to bring, including a pre-approval letter from her bank.
Jake welcomed her into his office and got right down to business. He was, once again, wearing a suit and looked like a million bucks. His barber was, she guessed, probably not from Fairview. He probably didn’t buy any of his suits locally, either. She noticed he was checking her out in return, appraising her like she was a new house on the market. A high-end one, she hoped.
“Now, Miss Randall,” he said. “Today we’re going to find you a house, I bet.” He looked through the paperwork she’d provided. “So you’ve made a decision about buying now? I know you said you were considering waiting a year to save up a higher down payment and, uh, address some credit issues. But we can certainly find something right now that will meet your needs, I think. We might need to compromise a little on size. Or it’s always possible to start with something that’s a fixer-upper, if you’re willing to take on some things like painting or ripping up old carpeting.”
“I’m not much of a fixer-upper,” Lori said. “But I don’t need a huge place just for me. Painting is OK. I’ll probably want to pick my own colors anyway.”
“Excellent,” Jake said. “I anticipated you’d say that. I have three properties that fit that bill exactly, and one more that’s a long shot but too good not to at least look at.” They got into Jake’s SUV. He apologized for the mess, but it appeared perfectly clean to Lori, especially compared to the state of her cute little car that held a number of empty beverage containers and badly needed a cleaning. She mentally added that to her list of things to deal with later.
The first house disappointed Lori. It was small and boring and dated. Even if she were to spend a lot of time and effort painting and redecorating, there just wasn’t much to work with. The second one was somewhat better, but was located on a very busy street, and the house next door had a neglected look. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be stuck with that kind of a neighbor. Jake did his best to talk up the amenities, but she couldn’t muster up any enthusiasm. The third one was in a better neighborhood, but the layout was strange. Somebody who didn’t know what he was doing had bought a small house and then added on without giving much thought to the finished product.
“I don’t know,” Lori said. “These aren’t quite what I had in mind. Maybe it would be better if I held on a bit and saved up some more money so I could qualify for something a step or two up. I guess I’ve been a little impulsive about this. I probably should have planned ahead more.”
“Not a problem,” Jake said. “Let’s check out the final one, and then we’ll head back to the office and talk about options.” She agreed, but didn’t hold out much hope. She regretted not having paid any attention to her finances all these years. She knew she could have bought something better if she’d paid as much attention to her bank statement as she had to fashion and fun, and said so.
“Not to worry, Miss Randall.”
“Call me Lori,” she said.
“You’re still young. You would be surprised. There are people who are a lot older than you and still haven’t gotten their money situation in hand. You haven’t done so badly. The important thing to remember is that you’re making a fresh start. And you make a good income. Let’s just see what you think of this next place. I’m going to warn you, it needs a lot of updating. The guy who built it was probably the closest thing this town had to a playboy, back in the day. He fancied himself the Hugh Hefner of Fairview and made some rather … unconventional … decorating choices. But the house has good bones and if you’re willing to put some effort into updating it, you could end up a few years from now with a showplace. Try to look past the décor. This place hasn’t been touched since the ’70s. He died about a year ago after spending several years in a nursing home and his family is motivated to sell,” he said, as he pulled up into the driveway of a brick home. The yard was overgrown and Lori didn’t hold out much hope.
&n
bsp; Jake unlocked the front door and Lori gasped.
“Oh. My. God.”
“I know, it’s a lot to take in,” Jake said.
Lori laughed. “Seriously!” The house was a testament to ’70s gaudiness. The living room featured horrible geometric-patterned harvest gold wallpaper, a sunken conversation pit and the ugliest rug she had ever seen. But there was a cool-looking fireplace that she loved.
The kitchen kept the harvest gold look going. The appliances would all have to go, of course. The dining room was a monstrosity. A heavily carved sideboard filled one wall. The massive table and chairs matched, the chairs featuring gold velvet upholstered seats. She entered the downstairs bathroom. It was an unbelievable orange. She wanted to shield her eyes from the crazy orange patterned tile. Unbelievably, even the tub, sink and toilet were orange. A few touches of avocado green made the orange look even more aggressive. A pair of giant ceramic goldfish were mounted on the wall over the toilet. She quickly backed out.
Jake said nothing. He just let her wander and gather her own opinions. He bent to pick up a listing sheet someone had dropped and she bit her lip. Now that was a fine, fine butt. She looked away before he could catch her looking and went upstairs to check out the master bedroom. It had a huge round bed with a mirrored ceiling and a mirrored ball. Jake hit a button on the wall and suddenly they were in a disco.
“All we need now is some KC and the Sunshine Band,” Lori laughed.
Jake sang out a line from the chorus of their most famous song. Lori did a little dance, the glittering lights crossing her body as she moved.
“I wonder what this dude’s parties were like, back in the day,” Lori asked.
“Pretty sure they didn’t just play charades,” Jake said.
“OK, I know I’m supposed to play coy,” Lori said. “But yeah, this is the place. You said the furniture comes with it, right?”
“I’m pretty sure they’ll knock a grand off the price if you agree to take it as is,” Jake said. “You can imagine his nieces and nephews don’t want any part of clearing this place out. He didn’t have any children, and he apparently wasn’t close to his nieces and nephews. They live out of state and they just want to get what they can from this place and get out.”
“It is perfect. Oh, I’ll make some changes, definitely. But you gotta admit, this place has got personality!”
“I have to advise you to get a housing inspection and all that,” he said. “But it appears the place is in decent shape as far as plumbing etc. It’s just … well, it is what it is.”
“Those other three houses looked like grandma houses,” Lori said.
“This one does not look like a grandma house,” Jake agreed. “Unless your grandma was a Playboy bunny.”
“She was not. She’d be horrified. But I LOVE THIS HOUSE!” She went back to doing her little dance. “Come on, Jake, give me some music,” she said. He laughed.
“I just exhausted my entire knowledge of ’70s music, I’m afraid,” he said.
Lori jumped onto the bed, which rewarded her with a burst of dust, and began singing the chorus of an old Bad Company song as she danced and played air guitar. Suddenly she stopped, embarrassed, and jumped down off the bed. “I’m sorry! I went a little nuts there!”
Jake had a look on his face she wasn’t sure she understood.
“Forgive me,” she said. “This house is getting to me.”
He looked like he was making an effort to control his facial expression. “No problem. Why don’t we get back to my office and get the ball rolling? We’ll need to make an official offer and if they take it, I’ll need a check for the earnest money. If all goes well, you can be in this house for the holidays.”
“I will need a giant white artificial Christmas tree. With lots of gaudy ornaments!” she said.
“Well, uh, if there’s nothing else you want to look at, let’s get back to the office,” he said.
“Sure,” Lori said, abashed after her impromptu performance. She was subdued on the drive back. She’d embarrassed him, clearly, and tried to turn the conversation back to normal. “Hey, how’s your hand? I see you’re not wearing a bandage anymore.”
“It’s just fine,” he said, flashing his palm toward her. A jagged pink line was all that was left to show where the splinter had been. Back in the office, he excused himself to make her offer to the owners. It was quite a bit less than the listed price and she didn’t expect them to take it, but they accepted it on the spot.
“This was meant to be!” Lori exclaimed. “Care to celebrate with me at The Clipper tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I really can’t. It’s just an ethical thing. I really can’t date a client.”
“I did not mean it that way,” she said, insulted. “Excuse me for asking.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “That came out wrong. At any rate, I do want to congratulate you. You’re getting a great house. When the ’70s look gets old for you, you can remodel and you’ll have a house worth significantly more than what you’re paying for it. And if at that point you feel like you want to move up to something higher-end, you’ll definitely be able to.”
Lori hid her irritation and embarrassment, wrote a check, shook his hand, and was on her way. Screw Jake. She should have known better than to make a move on him. He was cute, but he was no doctor.
Chapter 6
Lori spent the next few days working, grateful to be back on the day shift, and catching up on her laundry. She organized her closet and donated several garbage bags full of clothing to charity. Her closets and drawers were neat and tidy now. Her little kitchen was the cleanest it had ever been, and she was surprised what a difference her bank account already showed. Apparently, spending more time cleaning and organizing and less time shopping actually paid off. She was sleeping better, too, feeling less anxiety now that she was taking care of things as they came up instead of trying not to think of them until later. But she was lonely.
Her best friend, Molly, wasn’t very social these days. Being seven months pregnant in her late 30s, she had confessed to Lori, was a whole different ball game than when she was in her early 20s. Or maybe, Lori thought, Molly had just forgotten what it was like. Molly’s two girls were in college and her son was a senior in high school, so it had been a while. Lori made a mental note to call Tommy, Molly’s son, and ask him about doing some painting and cleaning once she took possession of the house. The basement, she knew, was full of boxes and junk, and she’d want help getting all that cleared up. Tommy had done some basic home remodeling and chores for Molly’s husband, David, before the two were married, so she knew he was more than capable.
Lori’s old friend, Caroline, was up for the occasional night out, but she had just moved in with her boyfriend and tended to want to bring him along. Lori missed having a boyfriend. She’d seldom gone more than a month or so without having one, and though she felt good about her decision to get her single life in order, there was a lot she missed about having a man in her life. She recalled Jake’s assumption that she was asking him out on a date. Ridiculous. As if she’d consider hooking up with a pushy salesman, even one as good-looking as him. One of the things that made doctors so attractive to her was that they made good money while doing good things. Most of them, she thought, were not in medicine just to make gobs of money, whereas Jake seemed to be in real estate just because he could make big bucks. She had nothing against his big SUV, his expensive suits and haircut or his fancy office. But his hustling for business even while in the Emergency Room with a giant splinter had left a bad taste in her mouth. He was good at what he did, and she was impressed at the way he guided her through the continuing process of purchasing a house, but she’d never want to date him.
But the little voice in the back of her head asked her if she was sure. “OK, so what if I was asking him out on a date? He said no,” she said aloud to herself. “And I’m not used to being turned down.” She looked at herself in the mirror. As usual, her appearanc
e was perfect: Not a hair out of place, makeup just so, outfit fashionable and well-accessorized. “I’ll get a boyfriend when I’m ready. And it won’t be some money-hungry real estate dude, either. It’ll be a doctor. I just seem to have run out of them at the moment.” Her little speech to herself was interrupted by a text from Jake, informing her of her closing date, three weeks from now. She quickly texted him back, telling him that worked fine for her.
It had gone amazingly quickly — it had only been a few weeks since the night the young girl had passed away in the Emergency Room, causing Lori to reevaluate her life. She’d made a donation to the scholarship fund the girl’s family established in her name. As fate would have it, Sarah Andrews had hoped to become a nurse, so her family had decided to establish a scholarship open to Fairview High School students planning to pursue nursing degrees.
The girl’s death had hit the community hard, and there were frequent reminders in the form of fundraisers and news coverage of the need for stop signs at the rural intersection outside town where the accident had taken place. Police couldn’t establish fault in the accident. The older man involved couldn’t remember a thing. It would have been a miracle if he could have, with that concussion. The general consensus was that stop signs would have made a difference, and there was a local push to get the county to add them. Each time she read or heard one of the updates, Lori remembered the girl’s beautiful face and too-short life. It renewed her determination to do a better job of making her relatively privileged life count.
She’d said as much to Caroline one night at The Clipper. For once, Caroline had left her boyfriend, Johnny, at home, and Lori was able to open up to her.
Kiss & Tell (Small-Town Secrets-Fairview Series Book 2) Page 3