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Picking up my cell, I stared again at the blinking voicemail indicator. Brenda had called me an hour ago, and I was anxious to hear what she had to say, hopeful that my offer had been accepted. I’d low-balled a bit, offering only 1.8 million with the listing price being at 2.2 million. The house was nice, but it wasn’t two million nice. Finally, I heard Jay asking for final comments; the end was near.
The moment I disconnected, I dialed into my voicemail.
“Good morning, Malcolm. Give me a call when you get this message. I heard back from the sellers today.” Brenda’s voicemail gave no hint to what their decision was. I would think if they’d accepted, she would have left a congrats message instead. I dialed her number, and she picked up on the third ring.
“This is Brenda, how can I help you?”
“Hey, Brenda, Mal here.”
“Malcolm, dear, how are you today?” she asked, sounding cheerful.
“Well, that depends on what you have to tell me,” I replied, leaning back in my chair.
A pop-up thunderstorm had hit. The blue skies that welcomed me this morning were now dark and ominous. The heavy rain pelted my windows as I waited for her to respond with what I hoped was good news.
“I think your day is going to be brighter than this weather. They accepted your offer. Congratulations! You’re a homeowner.”
That news did brighten my day. We talked a bit about arranging for the home inspection and other next steps. When I hung up, I got ready to call Ginger, but my phone rang. My buddy Gerald’s number flashed across the screen. It had been a few months since we talked last. He told me he’d been clean for about six months and had just gotten picked up by the Tampa Bay Storm. His inability to get clean and stay that way for long had led him to blowing his shot in the NFL.
“G, man, what up?” I asked when I answered.
“Not much, dude. What’s your address? I’m in the city, and I’m crashing with you.”
“What the hell? How do you know I don’t have plans this weekend?”
“Because yo black ass don’t make plans any more than I do. Besides, you said when I was in the city to stop by. I’m here and stopping by.”
I laughed. We’d been friends since high school, and he hadn’t changed much in all that time. He was a good guy at heart, but he liked to party. What started out as recreational dabbling in drugs at college parties took over to become a bigger demon for him to battle, which was ironic since he was the one to call my parents after my accidental codeine overdose. I’ll never forget the look of sadness and disappointment that was on Mom’s face when I woke up in the hospital.
I rattled off my address before hanging up. If G was in town, that meant he was looking for some wild nights out clubbing and trying to pick up women. Something I didn’t mind as long as he kept his partying clean. Last time we went out, he ended up scoring some ecstasy and tried to dry hump me as I attempted to get him home. I thought I was gonna have to slug his ass and knock him out. I didn’t wish for a repeat of that night. Hopefully he was joking about crashing with me, because there was no way I was going to listen to him and some hoodrat defile my couch all night.
After picking up my coffee cup, I went to take a drink only to find it empty. I popped another K-cup into the machine before heading to throw on some sweats and a shirt. I’m sure G didn’t want me answering the door in my underwear. By the time I was dressed, my coffee was brewed. Man, I loved that machine. I laughed to myself, remembering how I thought Macy was crazy when she bought it for me, but now I couldn’t live without it.
My phone buzzed, with an email from Pete asking for the same information I’d already given him three fucking times. I swear I had no clue how he managed to get hired. I was convinced he was friends with someone in HR that gave him the hook up. After I finished forwarding him the previous response I’d already sent, I again started to call Ginger only to have a knock at my door interrupt. I opened it to see G’s smiling face.
“What up, man?” he said, giving me a hearty slap on my back as he walked in. “Like the place, dude.”
He dropped his bag as he fell down onto my couch, making himself at home.
“Thanks, it’s only temporary.”
“Why? You moving yo ass back to Charlotte?”
“Nah, just bought a house,” I replied, settling into the chair.
“Nigga, please. A house? That sounds too much like a domestic thing,” he said with a snort.
I let out a laugh and shook my head. “Just call it a wise investment. This place runs me eighteen hundred a month. I’m tired of paying someone else’s mortgage.”
He whistled through his teeth as he pushed himself off the couch to look around my small one-bedroom condo. “Eighteen hundred? What the fuck are you paying for? That stuffy, old ass doorman downstairs?”
“Yeah…that among other things, mostly location. And that view that you can’t see currently because of the clouds. Anyway, man, you want something to drink?”
I walked into the kitchen as Gerald took a seat on one of the barstools. He burst out laughing when he saw the Keurig machine. “Seriously, man...”
“What? Macy got it for me.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of my baby sister. “How is that fine piece of woman doing?”
