She’d been wondering about that. “How do I figure that out?”
“Just like everything else. Ask around. Look at similar systems. You aren’t the first to be interested in rooming houses.”
She stood up, hugging her file against her. “I think I get it.”
“Keep in mind that at the beginning of the whole thing, you want to outline your purpose. You’re going to be great at that. Put your heart into it, but stay practical. Your introduction has to be memorable. Especially since you will be performing it live in front of council.”
“I’ll bewhat?”
“That’s why your pitch has to be perfect. We’ll work on it together until it is.”
That wasn’t something she’d considered, but she felt confident she could carry that part of it off. Too bad she couldn’t bring her guitar.
“Thanks for everything, Tom. I’m jazzed about this.”
He grinned. “It’s a great idea in theory, Sassy. If you can get this going, there’s no reason the government wouldn’t be interested in helping.”
She researched the process, and that involved calls and letters to the city as well as other central groups like the Toronto Real Estate Board and the Ontario Association of Real Estate Boards. Through them, she learned about past successes and failures. The more information she collected, the more she wanted to know. Every dottediand crossedtbrought satisfaction, and when she thought of it that way, she hummed the Rolling Stones song like a soundtrack.
After a week of intense work, Sassy returned to Tom’s desk and set her organized notes in front of him, stapled neatly together. On the front cover, in her neatest, steadiest hand, she had written:
MARION’S PLACE
A WELCOME HOME
“Marion,” he said softly, approving. “Nice touch.”
“I see this project as more than just providing homes. It’s more than that. It’s responding to what Marion showed me. Despite my initial belief that closing the institutions and bringing those people into the public viewwas the right thing for everyone, I now understand. Without the guidance and treatment Marion and others provide, many of them are lost. And the public, who wanted them freed, now regards them as trash, since they are forced to sleep in parks and alleys. Marion told me months ago that she believes the result of closing the institutions will eventually make everything much worse. So this project is my humble contribution to slowing that down.”
“I like it. You can also look at it as a personal victory for you. By investing in a good old house like this, you are basically delaying gentrification.” He laid his hand on the cover. “Can I look?”
Her palms were damp, but she kept her expression neutral. She wanted so badly to impress him. “Please do.”
She folded her arms, emulating her father without meaning to. She’d been working hard on the project, and she was was feeling good about what she’d learned. But she’d also thrown in something big that he wouldn’t expect. She couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
“I went a little deeper than you asked,” she said. “Instead of comparing this building to another, I compared it to six others. I did the research on all of them, so that’s laid out there in the beginning, in those columns.”
He opened her booklet to the table of contents, and after he read through it, he smiled.
“Sassy. This is…”
“I know,” she said, grinning madly. “Far out, right?”
He turned to the first section and gave a low whistle, scanning the columns she’d mentioned.
“This is the chart, and I was right. The building I initially chose was the best one. See the number of units versus cost outlay?”
“I sure do.”
“But what you don’t know is that I found something better.”
“Oh? Lay it on me.”
“I don’t have to worry about purchasing costs.”
He looked confused, then he studied her pages. After a beat, he stared back at her. “Your father’s home?”
“It’s my home now.”
