One More Time, Takes Two
When One Door Closes
They sat around a large table at the Madison Employees Federal Credit Union. Two buyers, two lawyers, one lender, one bank recorder, two real estate agents. It had been three weeks since Elsie and Sam experienced primal scream therapy in his car in the driveway of their soon to be jointly owned investment.
Tax obligations had to be met for State, Federal, and School. The Water bill and the combined Gas and Electric bill were divvied up between the former (his representative) and the current owners. Cable for internet and television reception lost one customer and gained another in one home, lost two customers in two other homes, but didn’t worry when they heard the fate of the couple’s houses…college kids loved their internet and cable. There were a few other legal hoops that are required in what is called a ‘short sale’, that is a house being sold for well under fair market value due to extenuating circumstances. Every item was paid with two checks, split down the middle. Both buyers ponied up twenty-thousand each off the purchase price. Their two homes were being picked up by Madison State University as investment properties, and would be using them as housing for three students each whose families didn’t mind paying an extra premium to protect their blossoming youth from the less dignified activities that everyone knew distracted children from pursuing their vocations whole heartedly. It rarely worked, but the income more than paid the mortgages, escrow and upkeep (along with the tax break of being part of the State University System). That sale would hopefully be completed within two months’ time, with the profits wiping the remainder of the new home’s financial obligation to full ownership, and more than refilling Sam and Elsie’s coffers from the down payment investment..
Both homes left furnishings behind, mostly, which were in excellent shape and would be compensated for come selling time. Artwork though was transported and stored in a utility closet for now. There were two well-seasoned iron skillets that had been in Elsie’s family for two generations that she refused to be parted with. A new set of cookware would be was purchased at Kirchner’s Kitchen and Bath. Even towels and washcloths were to be purchased new. It wasn’t that Sam and Elsie were spendthrifts, not at all. This was to be a whole new chapter in their lives, and it deserved a fresh start. Colors for walls had been chosen already and the painters were already there making quick work of the new color scheme, chosen mostly in harmony by the new couple. The old beds from all three houses were donated to Good Will, and a queen orthopedic pillow top bed would arrive by the end of the week to the new home.
One wall had a special role to play. It was the one where the main bathroom allotted one door on the right side of the hallway. Most of that wall was to be a gallery of children and grandchildren images. In the middle of the framed collage were two images of people both new residents knew as either departed spouse, or departed friend. Raul was to the left, Gracie to the right. The pictures were ensconced in a single frame. At the top, in a pleasant script, read ‘Than You For Everything’. At the bottom, ‘Till Our Next Bridge Game’.
A week later, Henrietta witnessed an aging man and woman time their final, choreographed, simultaneous twist of the door key, locking that life into their permanent past. Both kissed their fingers and placed it on their respective doors, then turned and met their agent, turning over the keys to her. She’d see to it they went to their proper place and new owner.
Three cars caravanned to the new house. Elsie and Sam even planned this one out, as both garage doors rose together and both cars made their virgin entries to their new protected home, to the applause of the twenty-seven neighbors…well, half of them applauded. The rest were holding pot luck dishes for the housewarming Henrietta had arranged. That gal earned her commissions. She even had a surprise in store. While house and yard tours were given and chat groups were engaged, a doorbell rang.
People stopped talking. Sam asked Elsie, “We have a doorbell?” She shrugged, but was stopped from heading to the door by their dear agent, who opened it and revealed a face that, while older now, was recognized by many in the room. It was a young man, quite handsome. He had looked a little unsure of himself until converged upon by his former neighbors. Sam and Elsie didn’t need anyone to tell them who this stranger was.
Just as they had turned the reins of their long loved homes to new hands, here was the scion of the former residents of this, their new home. Henrietta, once hugs and smiles had smoothed the qualms of the college senior, escorted him to the new owners. “Sam, Elsie? I’d like to introduce you to Brad Thurgeson. Brad? Sam Carney and Elsie Partlow.”
Brad wavered between smiling and eye misting, and so engaged both. Sam and Elsie followed suit. Brad said, “Thank you.” The couple answered with a double embrace and laughter.
The party began to peter out, couple by couple. Henrietta had to leave for another closing, but got her last hugs in before she left. After the last husband and wife had left the new residents with the information packet on participation in the neighborhood watch program, the three party finalists went to the front porch where the rockers salvaged from their past had another chair brought out from the dining room table. Sam and Elsie and Brad brought out a carafe still half full of hot coffee and a plate of what few left over cookies could be found.
It was easier for Brad to speak of his childhood memories, now that he had years of therapy under his belt, had years of a different life to add perspective, and had been able to turn over his old home to someone who seemed to love it in a new, yet old way. Sam asked about the dog.
“Rollo? He’s still with me, though he’s getting slower and stiffer. Would have brought him here but, well, I think it would have confused him too much. He’s happy where he is at my grand parents.”
Elsie asked where Brad had planned to aim his life and career. “Not completely sure yet. My degree is with computer engineered three-D architectural creation.”
Sam announced that Brad had officially proven he and Elsie were dinosaurs, but impressed dinosaurs at least. He then asked if Brad wouldn’t mind serving as an official observer in another capacity. The youth agreed, curious as to what Sam was going to do. Elsie didn’t see it coming right away.
Slower than he had knelt once, decades ago, but just as whole heartedly, Sam fished out of his pants pocket a ring. Looking up to a glowing and sweetly wrinkled face, he said, “Elsie, I don’t know what time we have allotted to us to walk the Earth. But I could not imagine a finer friend and loving partner to share that time with. Would you mind pilfering my cookies and muffins until God calls one of us up for former spouse management?”
Elsie gratefully allowed a new ring to take its rightful place. Brad bore witness also to two people old enough to be his grandparents share their first real kiss on the lips. He laughed out loud, wiped a tear, and told Sam and Elsie, “Hey, you two…get a house.”