Jenny walks over to our side of the table and holds out a silver key ring with the title company’s keychain on it. But most importantly, two shiny keys dangle from the ring. “Here are your keys!”
”Harper, do you want to hold our new keys first?” Jett says.
Harper dives across the room and takes them. No one is more excited about this new house than her. It was her dream home first, after all.
I don’t know what Jett did to make the owner agree to sell his home to us, and he’s not telling. He just gets a sly little smirk and says he “did what needed to be done” any time I ask him. These last three weeks have been a whirlwind. Usually buying a house takes a lot longer, but luck was on our side and this happened extremely quickly.
We did get the house inspected, and while there’s a ton of work to be done, there was nothing structurally bad about it, and the electrical wiring had been replaced just five years ago. Our inspector said it was done by a top company and it was extremely safe. That’s the most important thing to me. All the other little surface imperfections can be fixed. In fact, we plan to do most of the work ourselves.
Warm sunshine hits our face. I pull on my sunglasses and tie my hair into a bun on top of my head. It’s a beautiful day outside. A perfect day for buying our dream home.
“I’m hungry,” Jett says as we walk out of the title company. “Should we grab lunch first?”
“What do you say?” I ask Harper, who holds my hand. In my other hand is Arko’s leash. “Do you want to get some lunch before we go see our new house?”
She nods. “I’m hungry too!”
”Where to?” Jett asks.
”The diner!” Harper says. She’s young enough to still need a booster seat in the car, but old enough to buckle her own seatbelt.
“I think someone just wants some stickers,” I say, tickling her as I check her seatbelt to make sure it’s secure.
”I need them for my new room!” she says.
”The kid has a point,” Jett says, winking at her.
We spend three days cleaning up our new home. Dusting, polishing the wooden floors, cleaning up the kitchen counters and cabinets, removing wallpaper in the dining room (luckily it was only in the dining room) and adding a fresh coat of paint to every bedroom. Our parents help out with the cleaning and painting, and I can’t believe it only takes three days until the place is looking really good.
The outside needs more work, and we’ll probably hire professionals to paint the house since it’s two stories tall. I’ve just finished adding new contact paper to the base of the kitchen cabinets when I look over at Jett. He’s putting together a ceiling fan.
”Babe?”
”What’s up?” He peers at me with a screwdriver hanging out of his mouth.
”I want to move in.”
”Move in where?”
”Here, duh. I’m ready.”
”What, like today?”
I nod. “Why not? The inside is pretty much done.”
He considers it, glancing around. “We still have four ceiling fans to install, the cable guy can’t come until next week, there’s no rugs and the hardwood floor gets cold and we have a cold front coming in soon, the outside is a mess, and that upstairs toilet doesn’t work.”
”So what?” I put on my most convincing smile. “I want to sleep in our own room. I want to be our own house all night, not just from dawn to dusk. Let's do it.”
”We also have no furniture,” he says.
“It’s only noon. There are furniture stores in town that deliver.”
He runs a hand through his hair. There are still tiny little white dots of ceiling paint in his hair. Probably some in mine, too. It’s inevitable when you’re rolling a paint roller over your head for ten hours a day.
Jett watches me for a moment. I hold my breath, hoping he says yes. Is this crazy? I don’t know, maybe. But I don’t care.
”Okay,” he says. The corner of his lips quirk into a grin. “Let’s do it.”
