“That’s not what I’veheard.”
“There’s some research that suggests a higher causal link between the two, but there’s very little evidence to support thattheory.”
“Research doesn’t look at specialcircumstances.”
“No, that’s true. Nor does it take the individual person into consideration. If Ray had raised you, I’d be more worried about the impact he had on your ethics, but as it was, you endured one month with the man – not enough time, in my opinion, to change your moralcodes.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised what one month with Ray could do to a person. Typically it resulted in a shallow grave, so yeah, this was a specialcircumstance.”
“Then I supposed we have a place tostart.”
* * *
“If you thoughtthe library was impressive, feast your eyes on this,” Carol, the real estate agent, said dramatically, as she swept her arms out in front of her like a fairy godmother conjuring up the space through her magical wand. “A designer kitchen with white titanium granite countertops and Wolf sub-zero appliances. Isn’t it just todiefor?”
“Wow,” Casey said, her eyes nearly as wide and full of wonder as the agent’s. “Look at that refrigerator… and those cabinets… oh, and that pot rack. Wait a minute! Is that a Teppanyakigrill?”
“Yes it is,” Carol answered proudly, as if she herself had been responsible for its placement in the kitchen island. “As you can see, the owner spared noexpense.”
No. That much was obvious. The place was a trophy house, and it was the fifth one we’d looked at today. I was honestly having trouble telling them apart. These stately mansions were too big and too fancy for my liking. I preferred smaller spaces; but as Casey had pointed out, we needed roomtogrow.
“What do you think, Jake?” the agent asked, eagerly awaiting myapproval.
“Yeah. I like it,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to fool either oneofthem.
“Is it the kitchen?” Carol pinched her lips in a sign of distress. “Do you prefer darkercolors?”
Honestly? Like colors would be a deal breaker in a goddamn mansion. “No. Anything works for me. The only thing I require in my kitchen is a smoke alarm. I use that as my cookingtimer.”
The real estate agent humored me with a courtesy chuckle, but Casey looked anything butamused.
“Carol, can you excuse us for a minute?” She grabbed my arm and steered me out of the kitchen without waiting for a reply. I didn’t time it but I’m pretty sure it was a seven-minute walk to thefrontdoor.
Once outside, she asked, “What’s going onwithyou?”
“Nothing, I’mhungry.”
“You’re hungry?” she asked, placing her hand on her ever-expanding waistline and taking on the expression of a pouty toddler. “Would you like me to go see if they have a juice boxforyou?”
Although Casey appeared to be genuinely irritated with me, her sarcastic response struck a nerve and I couldn’t hold back the laughter. “Actually, that would be great,thanks.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Casey recognized the humor in her words and joined me in a light-heartedchuckle.
Taking my hand, she led me to the top step and we bothsatdown.
“Talk to me. I can feel your frustration. What’sgoingon?”
“I don’t know. According to my therapist, I don’t like change, and this feels like abigone.”
“We don’t have to get this place or any of the others we’ve seen today, but we do need to move. I love the townhouse, I really do, but security there is not great, and like it or not, you need more of it now than you did when you bought that place years ago. Since all the neighbors use the same manned entrance, it’s fairly easy for outsiders, or just friends of the neighbors, to make unwelcomevisits.”
“That almost never happens,” I said, defending mybachelorpad.
“But it has, and I’m not willing to risk our baby’s security.Areyou?”
Well, when she put it thatway… “No.”
“So, like I said, it doesn’t have to be this house, but I need you to be an active participant in this. I don’t want to make this decision onmyown.”
