Page 38 of Joey

“I love it,” Joey says. “I really, really love it. What do you think, Brooke?”

“Yeah,” I say, unable to take it all in, trying to look everywhere at once. “It’s a dream garden, for sure.”

I take a moment to picture what my life would’ve been like if I had grown up in this fairytale garden.

I try not to think about that stuff too much. The past. The things I missed out on. I try to concentrate on the things I had. Have. I try to remind myself that I’m lucky. It’s not a typical kind of lucky, that’s for sure. But it could’ve been a lot worse.

So I don’t feel jealous that Joey Boston’s little darling will get all the things I dreamed of as a girl. But I do still long for it. That fantasy life every kid wants and most will never have.

“Just wait until you see the back,” Allen winks.

We continue up the driveway and Allen points to a carriage house. “That’s the garage. Detached, unfortunately. But there’s a surprise inside. I’ll show you that later.” Then he waves us up towards the front porch, which spans the front of the house and has a wide overhang. “There’s an entrance down by the garage too. So don’t worry, Miss Alder. You won’t have to carry groceries up these steps.”

The front door is massive and arched, made of thick planks of deep brown wood, and when Allen opens it to the foyer beyond, I’m taken aback by how welcoming it is.

“Very impressive,” Joey says. “I’m blown away already.”

“It’s very homey for a large house,” I say.

“The floors are wide-planked hickory. Original, of course.”

I gaze around, then realize Joey is still holding my hand.

Is that weird? Should I let go?

But he gives my hand a squeeze and then lifts them both up to point at the stairs. “Now that is a staircase.”

“Fit for a royal family like yours.” Allen chuckles, buttering him up.

We wander into the front sunroom as Allen starts rambling off details. Five bedrooms, five bathrooms, media room, office, library, chef’s kitchen. And every bit of it is top-notch.

“The master is on the main level,” Allen continues as he walks us through the kitchen. “On the other side of the house. It has its own wing. Two bedrooms are upstairs. And in the basement there’s basically an in-law suite with two more bedrooms. There’s also a game room down there.”

We go upstairs first and I swear, fate is fucking with us. Or maybe Wald is right and this is some kind of virtual reality joke. Because there’s a nursery up there and a little girl’s bedroom complete with canopy bed, and white mosquito netting, and flowing sheer white curtains covering the nearly floor-to-ceiling windows.

“This is perfect,” Joey says.

His smile is big and wide when I look at him and I think to myself… Damn. I wish he really was mine. Not for the house, either. Or the money.

I wish he was mine because he’s excited about this house. He’s picturing his daughter living in this bedroom. He’s picturing her playing out in that front garden. He’s imagining his whole life in this moment.

You just don’t meet a lot of men like that these days.

Downstairs we find the master suite. And it is truly a suite. A sitting room, a bedroom, two walk-in closets, and a bathroom that looks like a spa. Deep, free-standing tub, a slate-tiled shower, and heated stone floors.

“One more surprise,” Allen says. “Then we’ll look at the back yard.”

We follow him down to the walk-out basement where we find an entire suite. Almost another whole house. Kitchen, and bedrooms, and French doors that lead outside.

Joey starts heading that direction but Allen says, “That’s not the surprise. Follow me.”

He takes us past a wine cellar, a billiards table, and finally to a door that looks like a vault.

“A safe room,” Joey says.

We wait as Allen swings open the thick, steel door. “It’s a literal safe. For jewelry, or gold, or art, or whatever. And it’s fireproof too. But it’s also a family safe room. If anyone ever threatens you there are secret passages in the walls that lead down here. And it’s even got a small bunk room and a makeshift kitchen.”

“You’re shitting me.” Joey laughs.