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Emil’s lips twitch as he places his hand on my back to keep our pace equal.
“Wait, I promised Mom I’d take a photo,” I gasp, pulling out my phone and stepping in front of him. He gives me a winning smile as he keeps his hand on Zayn’s bottom, and I sigh happily as I take the photo.
Being part of a family is showing up for each other. I didn’t know anything was missing today until he showed up at my door. I didn’t want to spend it alone, I simply didn’t want to voice it aloud, even if it’s just to myself.
“I’m going to call the real estate agent…”
“Mmhmm,” I say, not in the least bit surprised that he’s got someone ready to go on my behalf. I fall into step beside him, and he returns his hand to my back as he walks on the side the street runs.
“All the houses on the market I’m targeting are within walking distance to your favorite places,” he continues. “You have veto rights on all properties. If it has a lawn, I’ll hire a landscaper. You’re not mowing.”
“Not unless I want to fall on my face,” I agree. I may be feeling better with my meds and biweekly infusions, but I know better than to overdo it.
That’s a classic mistake people make, and I’ve done it enough to learn my lesson.
“Let’s avoid that,” Emil mutters, holding the phone to his ear. “Hello, Monica? Are you available to show those houses today?”
I listen as he talks with the real estate agent, and she sends him the code for the first house because she’s about to walk into a closing. My grandfather has been plotting. This wasn’t a random visit at all, and I love him for it.
Emil pockets his phone as he finishes with a shrug, and I have a feeling he’s happier with this outcome. “I don’t enjoy the company of someone who prattles on about all the high points of a building,” he says. “I have the listings pulled up on my phone, I can read just fine. Before we buy, I’ll have an inspector check over the property once we’ve chosen an option.”
“This is so exciting and kind of overwhelming,” I admit, biting my lip as I take the turn when he signals for me to.
“That’s kind of how we always live our lives in this family,” he says, amused. “See, the first house is a two minute walk from everywhere you enjoy going. In the summer, you’ll have the car if it’s too warm to walk.”
I nod because he has it all figured out. The house in question is robin’s egg blue with black trim, and actually a three bedroom property. We go inside and we investigate every corner. It’s pretty, but it doesn’t really call out to me. Emil looks at my face and shakes his head.
“Not this one. Next!”
“I didn’t say anything,” I protest.
“You don’t need to with me,” he says simply.
We continue on through the different neighborhoods until we’re along the edge of my stomping grounds. It’s still perfectly manageable, and the grocery store I like to go to is on this side. I walk a lot with Zayn, and people will wave in my direction when they see me. We’re acquaintances by proximity, though we don’t know anything about each other.
This last house has the same roof as many Santa Barbara houses, and it gives me a pang of nostalgia. It’s a two-story Spanish-style home, and has a gate in front of the covered porch at the top of the stairs. I’ve never seen a house like this before, and Emil nods to himself as he enters the first code to unlock the gate.
The front door reminds me of a storm door, and it’s heavy and solid. It somehow works with the terracotta roof and white paint on the walls. Someone would have a really hard time getting inside without a key.
Thankfully, the lockbox on the door has one inside.
“This gives you the air of freedom and security without appearing to be locked down,” he mutters. “It also allows packages to be delivered without anyone stepping onto the porch. It’ll limit the amount of solicitors you end up getting too. Someone would have to climb the gate to get to the door, and at that point, you’d be calling the cops. Theo will still want to come and set you up with a system that isn’t controlled by Joe Schmo. He subcontracts with a company he trusts in case there’s a breach in the middle of the night and the police need to be called.”
Emil glances down at Zayn as he gives a strong yowl, brows raised.
“Are you hungry, mijito? Let’s get inside and your mama will feed you.”
Zayn took a decent nap, probably because we were constantly moving. I’m beginning to breathe heavier, and need a break before I tackle stairs. Emil unlocks the door using the keypad and we walk inside before he lifts Zayn free of the sling.
“Here you go,” he murmurs, handing him off.
“I’ll be over here,” I say, cradling Zayn as I move further into the house to find some privacy.
“You’re fine,” he says. “I’m going to run upstairs. The front door is locked so no one will come inside. I expect Monica will come looking for us at some point.”
The last part is almost grumbling and I grin as I pull off my backpack and walk a bit further to find a spot to sit on the stair that goes into the living room. I love all the beautiful tiles and immediately begin thinking about how to babyproof this place. I’ll probably end up chasing Zayn everywhere, which isn’t a terrible thing.
My son quiets as he begins to eat, and I gaze out the large picture windows that lead out to the covered patio. The entire back yard is green and beautiful, perfect for a child to run and play. I can’t stop smiling.
