“Maybe the son is waiting of his dad to die so he can have it in the will,” Keanna says, scowling at the idea. “He probably just wants the money from it as soon as possible.”
I nod. “Hopefully that won’t happen any time soon. The man deserves to grow old and be happy. But if he won’t sell the house, I don’t think there’s anything we can do.”
She clutches a pillow to her stomach while sitting cross legged on the bed. “Maybe I’m just being stupid, but I really want that house. I can’t explain it, I just want it.”
“I feel the same way. I’ve been thinking about it all day. It’s just such a cool house.”
“What if we get our real estate agent to call?” she says, tilting her head as she thinks. “Maybe he’s got some fancy professional conversation topics he can use to convince Benjamin to sell the house.”
“Maybe,” I say. “It’s worth a shot.”
She grins. “Let’s call Mark in the morning!”
With the idea in place, her restlessness fades away and she snuggles up against me, falling asleep before this episode is over. I’m not so sure there’s anything Mark can say that would convince this man to sell a home he doesn’t want to sell. No, in fact it might push him even further away.
But that’s okay, because I’ve got an idea.
While Keanna sleeps deeply, her breath slow and steady, I carefully extract myself from her, making sure she doesn’t wake up. Then I crawl out of bed and head downstairs to the empty living room with my laptop. Thanks to Benjamin’s son oversharing on Facebook, I know exactly how to get a letter to the owner of our dream house.
I find some nice clean paper and a pen, and start writing.
Dear Mr. McCartney,
My name is Jett Adams and I am a proud husband to my incredible wife, Keanna, and our precious daughter, Harper. Harper is four years old, and we hope to have more kids someday soon. We also have a a retired working dog named Arko, who brings us so much joy. Until a few weeks ago, we lived in a small home in a tightly packed neighborhood where all the houses looked alike. We were happy, but then a fire from faulty wiring took the house and everything we owned away from us.
Now, as we are staring down the long process of having our home rebuilt, we have come to realize that this home might not be the best fit for our growing family. We need a big yard for our dog who needs exercise and freedom to roam. We need a bigger home for our family to grow, and most importantly, we need something that has heart. Something we can grow old in.
We came across your home on accident. It just so happened to match a drawing my daughter made, and it took our breath away. We realized that this was the kind of home we needed. We parked in your driveway and imagined our whole lives unfolding in that house. Family gatherings, slow cozy evenings on the front porch, and even our daughter’s inevitable prom walk down the gorgeous grand staircase.
It’s possible you moved out of your home against your own will, and for that I am so sorry. It’s painful to see your beautiful home in such disarray right now. If you were to sell it to us, I give you my word that I would fix it up back to its original glory. Fresh paint, blooming roses in the front garden, and happiness and love inside the rooms.
You would be welcome to visit us anytime you want. In fact, we would love to meet you and learn more about your home. I know I’m asking a lot, and if you truly don’t want to sell, then I understand.
But if you would like to consider selling, please consider me. My wife, daughter, and dog deserve the absolute best, and I will dedicate my entire life to providing that for them.
Sincerely,
Jett Adams
Chapter 17
Keanna
Three Weeks Later
The room smells like some kind of fruity air freshener. Mango, possibly. It’s small, and cozy here at the title company. Jett, Harper, Arko and I sit at the long table that fills the entire small room.
Our closing agent didn’t mind if Arko came along, especially after she heard he was a retired police dog who is very well behaved. He’s even better out in public, we have learned. He just lays on the floor at my feet, not making a peep.
Harper colors in a free coloring book the receptionist gave her, snacking on a small bag of Oreos. This place knows how to entertain children while their parents do the boring stuff.
Boring, but super exciting.
Jett and I take turns signing and initialing dozens of papers that seem to go on forever, but eventually, we sign the very last one.
”Congratulations!” Jenny, our closing agent says. Her bright red lipstick reminds me of Taylor Swift as she smiles at us. “You just bought a house!”
I turn to Jett and can’t stop the huge smile on my face. This isn’t the first time we’ve purchased a house, but it feels bigger this time. More exciting. More scary.
