Before I can go back to work, my cell rings in my pocket. My realtor’s name scrolls across the screen, and I answer it before it can go to voicemail.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Knox! I’ve got great news,” Isla says with her usual cheery attitude. “Someone is interested in buying the property on the edge of your land.”
“Who the fuck wants that shithole?”
“Someone local, it seems. They said they grew up in the house.”
Her statement surprises me. Who owned that land before I bought it? It’s been so long, I can’t remember.
“I know you don’t want to sell any part of your land to a corporation, so I thought this might be the best option. I can’t believe someone in Pine Creek Falls wants to buy that house.” Isla’s astonishment matches my own. It’s a run-down shack on a decent plot of land. I considered tearing it down on multiple occasions, but I never wanted to put that much effort into it.
“Yeah, I’d entertain an offer. You know what we’ve discussed on price, so I’ll let you handle the details. Just bring me the final numbers.”
“Perfect. I’ll keep youupdated.”
I hang up the phone, still a little mystified. I bought that land years ago because I didn’t want some random Joe to snatch it up and ruin the views the tourists pay big money for. The land isn’t worth much. You can’t get anything but a few flowers to grow in the soil now. Add in that the house should probably be condemned, and it seems like a stupid investment.
But who am I to tell that person they’re an idiot?
CHAPTER 9
Farrah
“All that’s left is for you to sign here.” Sandra slides the thin file folder over to me and points at the line at the bottom. Her grey-streaked bob wiggles around, and I’m momentarily distracted by how that would drive me crazy. Then she’s setting a pen on the stack of papers, and I remember what I’m doing.
Holy shit, I can’t believe this is happening.
I’m buying my childhood home. I never thought I’d set foot inside that house again, and now it’s officially mine. Grammy and Grandpa bought it in their twenties after they’d gotten married. They basically built it from the ground up. I was devastated that Dad sold it after Grammy died.
The bonfire at Knox’s house a few weeks ago had memories rushing in from my childhood. The land butts up against his property, which made me wonder who owned the house now. I reached out to a realtor, not entirely sure if she’d be able to tell me anything. I wasn’t surprised in the least that Knox owned the land, but it was hard to believe he was willing to sell it. I was terrified he’d find out I was the person buying the house and he’d pull out of the sale.
Now that I’ve officially signed on the dotted line, he can’t take it away from me. No one can.
The house needs an insane amount of repairs. It would probably be cheaper to tear it down and build something new, but I just have too many memories baked into the ugly ass wallpapered walls to consider it. I’d rather it take me years to fix the original house than start over from scratch.
I know how to do most things on my own. Between my violent alcoholic father andhe who must not be named,I learned how to fix everything that got in the path of their rages. Myself included.
There will be things outside of my skill set, of course, but because I bought the house without any conditions, Knox dropped the list price, and now I have plenty leftover to fix some of the bigger things I can’t do myself.
I hope. Renovations never go quite like you’re expecting.
I finish signing the paperwork, and Sandra stands from the table. “Congratulations! We wish you all the best in your new home.”
Taking the folder and house keys from her outstretched hands, I thank her before leaving the title office. I have the whole afternoon off from work and plan to spend it in my new home. It needs to be deep cleaned, and I’ll have to replace some of the boards over the windows where the glass has been broken.
My stomach knots at the mile-long list of things to get done. This was probably one of my worst ideas ever. Well, minus my decision to get married. That one will take top billing forever, but I hope this one doesn’t end up coming in second.
Twenty minutes later, I pull into the short driveway, and my grin grows.
No. I won’t ever regret buying this house. The white paint on the covered porch is more than a little chipped, and therailing is missing several spindles. The screen door is sagging, but the main door behind it looks solid.
I’m already envisioning painting the siding pink. Grammy would be tickled by that choice. She always wished she could afford to have it repainted.
Jumping out of my car, I race up the wooden porch steps to unlock the front door. Now that I’m allowed to be inside without anyone else around, I want to take my time to explore.
The tiny entryway would look adorable with some beadboard and cute little tiles on the floor. To the left is the living room. It’s got garish wallpaper that will have to come down immediately. There are several rooms throughout the house that will need to be fully renovated. There are holes the size of Texas in multiple walls from when my dad would go through his rages.
