The first stop is the duplex. It’s nice. The interior photos are solid. But the yard is smaller than I want.
We sit there scrolling through the listing, the place empty and quiet behind the photos. I look up at her and shake my head.
“I want more yard,” I say. “More space between neighbors.”
She nods and adjusts the filters. “So shared-yard places are out?”
I wince. “Yeah. If MD wants to go out at five a.m., I don’t want to get dressed. I want to stand there in nightclothes hissing things like hurry up, it’s cold.”
She blinks. “MD?”
“Maybe Dog,” I say. “I was going to go with FD, but that sounded… effed up.”
I fail not to slap my knee.
She rolls her eyes. “I forgot about your dad-joke sense of humor.”
“Okay,” I say, “with the new search results, what do we have?”
“Oh crap.” She frowns at her screen. “I think I need to adjust the price range, because this just kicked us into the fancy fancy.” She goes quiet, then lets out a small sigh.
“What?”
“I can’t stop looking even though it’s a hell no because of the price. But the exposed beams. And those floors.” She turns the phone toward me. “Oh, look at this master closet.”
I glance down. “That’s bigger than my bedroom.”
“Right? And did you see the kitchen? Look.” She scrolls to a marble island with a chandelier above it. Somehow, it doesn’t look tacky.
I take the phone and scroll. “What do you call those floors?”
“Uh,” Meg says thoughtfully, “fucking gorgeous?”
“Definitely. And then the hardwood.” I pause. “Do I even want to know what it costs?”
“You do not,” she says firmly. “We probably shouldn’t have looked at that. Everything else is going to pale in comparison.”
“Mmm,” I agree. “So what’s next?”
Chapter forty-three
Christianna
I’m lying in bed, scrolling through house listings. Fully obsessed.
I keep widening the search. Maybe something on the water. No. Gators. Absolutely not. MD would end up as gator bait.
Maybe I need to rethink MD’s size. I originally pictured a cute little floof. Then again, maybe bigger. No. It’ll be a rescue. No designer dog for me. I want a mutt. The one I connect with.
But first, MD needs a house.
I filter for empty homes only. If there’s furniture, I can’t move in right away. That’s a deal breaker.
I circle back to the ridiculous listing. The expensive one. It’s everything I’ve never quite been able to articulate wanting. The pool house. The kitchen. The light.
There’s a sun porch. A room I already know will have perfect acoustics.
I open my email and send a quick message to my tax guy.
