Michael and Jenn both taught in Richmond, right across the bay from Mill Valley. They were in different schools, of course. He taught and coached high school and Jenn was an elementary school teacher. But he’d been exhaustively searching the area for houses. Jenn wanted a house. He thought it might be the only advantage he had.
It was a Sunday afternoon when he went to her parents’ house. For once it was sunny, a condition they didn’t see that much of in the Bay Area. It was a beautiful, though cold, pre-Christmas day.
Just to be safe, he had talked to Jenn that morning and asked her how she was spending her day and she said she was going to do a little baking while watching her annual viewing of An Affair to Remember followed by Holiday Inn. So, he didn’t feel too badly about interrupting her day. Those movies could be viewed later. She might even invite him to join her.
He rang the bell and she answered. She was so beautiful. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was way under his skin. “Hi. Are you too busy for a treat?”
“What kind of treat?” she asked.
“I’d like to show you something,” he said. “I’m not going to tell you what it is. I just want to show you. It’ll take about an hour.”
“I was just getting all my baking stuff out. I was about to start measuring. Can it wait till later?”
“Actually, no. There’s a time limit on it. How about you get a jacket and let’s do it.”
“I hate surprises,” she said, standing firm.
“You just hate them when they don’t work out. Sometimes you love them. I think you’re going to like this one.”
“I think you’re up to something,” she said.
He grinned at her. “Of course I am. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Come on, be a sport.”
“All right,” she said. “But this better not be a trick!”
“It’s not a trick, Jenn. It’s a surprise. Those are two entirely different things.”
She grabbed a jean jacket and hollered into the house that she was going with Michael to see something and would be home in about an hour. She hauled herself up into his SUV and buckled up. “How’s everyone at your house?” she asked.
“They all seem to be good. My mom is just about back to normal. Bess is as weird as ever but she’s doing fine. Jess is not around as much, a good thing, but she seems like a whole new person since she got her dog. Wriggly is quite the guy. For a little dog he’s not yappy or annoying—he’s pretty cool.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.”
“I see your dad has the Christmas lights up,” he said.
“Oh, yeah, he’s all over it. They’re going to bring the tree in later today and start getting out some of the decorations. My mom has been shopping like crazy, getting ready to shock and awe the grands. Since my brother-in-law’s parents live kind of close, we’ll have everyone here for most of the time. Christmas morning, for sure. We’ll have to share the kids a little bit. And the in-laws are coming to a big dinner one night. We have lots of lists going, getting ready.”
“You haven’t gotten yourself that second job yet, have you?” he asked.
“No, I’m waiting till after the holidays. A lot of high school and college kids pick up part-time work while they’re on break. There’s no need to compete with that.”
“How’s it going, living with your folks?” he asked.
“Surprisingly well, considering I’m the youngest and they don’t let me forget it for one second. I’m surprised I don’t have a curfew.”
“Oh? Does that mean you’re going out a lot?”
She threw him a look. “I’ve had a couple of wine breaks with the girls but I haven’t gone out with any guys, if that’s what you’re trying so clumsily not to ask me.”
“That was it.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll know when we get there.”
“Are we going wine tasting? Are we going to vineyards?”
“No. How’s your grandma doing?”
“She’s fine. She’ll be with us for Christmas. How about your grandma?”
“Blanche isn’t doing that well,” he said. “She’s really deteriorating. She doesn’t make sense a lot of the time, poor old girl. But I think she’s getting along okay at the nursing home. She has always had a gift for making friends. Even if she can’t remember them or their names an hour later.”
“Where are we going?” she asked a bit more forcefully.
“Just up the road. Not very far. San Rafael. Have you been there? It’s really close but I think I only drove through it or past it before. It’s not a bad-looking little town. Good roads, lots of older neighborhoods with real nice yards. Have you? Been there?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “What’s in San Rafael that you want to show me?”
“Just give me five minutes, Jenn.”
“I don’t know why you don’t just tell me.”
“Okay, look. You gave me an idea and I started looking at houses. I got a Realtor and gave her the parameters—has to be fairly close to work, has to be at least three bedrooms, solid, not run-down. I said I could do a few things, cosmetic things, but I’m not a builder and I can’t do anything major like electrical or plumbing or putting on a new roof. I’ve looked at a few houses.” He whistled. “They’re pricey. But my dad left me some money, and my mom told me when they originally wrote their wills they wanted to help us afford a house. Because it’s so hard to buy a house in California. So, I had a little money, I have a great job, I looked around. And I found this sweet little house in a nice neighborhood. The houses are kind of old but the owners aren’t—most of the neighborhood is young.”
“You’ve been looking at houses?”
“This is the block. Look how nice it looks and it’s the beginning of winter. The lawns are so neat, the gardens meticulous. Most of the houses have freestanding garages in the back. I know, there are a lot of cars parked on the streets. That’s the one.”
There was a mission-style house, a woman in a suit and heels standing in front on the sidewalk.
“Oh my God, it’s pink!”
“Yeah, that’s a downside,” he said. “Come and see the inside...”
“It’s pink! Not slightly pink. Pepto-Bismol pink!”
“I know, but come on. The inside is amazing.”
He introduced Jenn to Maura Cummings. “Thanks for taking time on a Sunday to show me this house again. I really want Jenn’s opinion before I make a decision.”
“Perfectly reasonable,” Maura said.
“It’s really pink,” Jenn said.
Maura laughed and said, “It sure is. That can go away in a few hours. We can even make it a condition of sale.”
The front door was beautiful, had an arched doorway in the Spanish influence. The foyer was large, the living room and dining room generous, and you could see through the house to a cozy covered patio. The rooms were tiled in burnt-orange Spanish tiles with thick, soft area rugs throughout. The kitchen countertops were off-white quartz. The kitchen was big—work island, breakfast bar and all. It looked as though it had been recently remodeled. To the right of the kitchen was a large bedroom and bath with shower, to the left of the living room, a main bedroom with a large bath containing both tub and shower. There was a third bedroom next to it.
“Three bedrooms, two baths, almost sixteen hundred square feet, recently remodeled kitchen and main bath. The owners had it inspected and it’s in excellent condition.”
“Wow, it really is nice inside,” Jenn said.
Maura walked over to the dining room sliders and opened them. “Take a look out here. The owners enjoyed entertaining outside and went to a lot of trouble to make sure it was attractive and inviting. They will, of course, leave that wonderful gas grill, if you want them to.”
The backyard was lush and expertly trimmed with trees mature enough to block their house from the neighbors’.
“Come look at this,” Mike said, taking Jenn’s hand. He pulled her to the side of the house and showed her a walkway on that side, edged by mature plants, a couple of plum trees and a tall wooden gate.
“And look at the trees. Plum, lemon, lime and peach. And that’s the garage.”
“It’s kind of small,” she said.
“I know. I think it will only take one small car, if that. And it can’t be enlarged.” He turned back to the Realtor. “Let us poke around a little bit and talk. I promise we won’t open any drawers or closets.”
“I’ll wait out front, but please, check out the closets and kitchen cabinets. There’s a remarkable amount of space for a little house.”
“It’s not that little,” Michael said. “My apartment is about seven or eight hundred square feet. One bedroom. Galley kitchen.”
“I didn’t know you even knew what that was,” Jenn said. “Listen to you, the seasoned home shopper. How much are they asking?”