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FOUR
JACK
The real estateoffice in Chance Rapids had changed since I last lived there. The one-man office with the wood paneling and threadbare brown carpet had been replaced with a modern and sleek space. My real estate agent, Charlotte, or Billie Jo to her local friends, had been a few years older than me in high school. I had a hazy recollection of Billie Jo and her sister Lauren, and while I didn’t trust many realtors, Charlotte was a true Rapidian, and for that reason, I trusted her.
“Jack.” Charlotte waved from the loft space that overlooked the reception area. “Come up. The secretary isn’t in yet.”
I jogged up the open stairs and shook Charlotte’s outstretched hand. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a black sweater. “Congratulations.” She gestured to the seat across from her glass desk.
“Thank you,” I smiled. “I can’t believe it’s all coming together.”
She opened the file folder on her desk and turned it to face me, handing me a fancy looking pen. “Your brothers signed digitally; the last spot is yours.”
I took a deep breath. “And then it’s done?”
A sticker with an arrow pointed a blank line on the conditions page. The process had been stressful, and once I signed on that line, my entire life would change.
“As soon as you sign. The lodge is yours.”
Smiling at Charlotte, I scribbled my signature onto the line. “Well, here goes nothing.”
She took the papers. “I’ll have my secretary make copies, and scan these so you can have a digital copy. Do you have any questions?” Her hands were folded on her desk. I couldn’t believe that it was all done.
“And, it’s closed? It’s ours?”
“Yes.” She leaned back in her chair. “The world’s shortest closing date. The lawyers will have a few things to do on Monday, but they will call you as soon as the title is registered in your and your brother’s names.” She folded her hands on her desk.
Charlotte was part of the revival of city people who had moved away and then returned to Chance Rapids. Like me, and a lot of people, she had left after high school. There weren’t a lot of options to stay in Chance Rapids back then, and I needed to spread my wings a little. I assumed that she did too. She was married to another guy who left and came back too – Logan.
“Thanks again for all of your help with this, I know it wasn’t the easiest deal to put together.” I handed her the hefty pen.
“Stop.” She brushed off the comment. “I’ve had way more complicated deals than yours. The hardest part was dealing with your globetrotting brothers.”
This made me chuckle. “I have a hard time keeping track of them too.”
My head turned as I heard the sound of the front door opening. “That’s my secretary. I’ll get her to make you a copy now. If you have any questions, please call.”
“I will.” As I followed Charlotte down the handmade staircase, I wondered what her reception had been like when she’d returned to Chance Rapids. She was a very wealthy woman, and most of the people who grew up in town and never left, were not. At least not to Charlotte’s degree- she owned one of the mountain mansions at the base of the ski hill that had to be worth at least five million bucks.
The ski resort had brought a new kind of local to town, and they were the ones I was hoping to capitalize on with my new business.
With a copy of the agreement in my hands, I was about to leave when Charlotte stopped me.
“Wait.” She held up her index finger. “The lawyer left the keys here. And, it’s unorthodox to give them out before official closing, but I’m pretty sure they don’t do anything. It’s more symbolic.” She reached over the reception desk and handed me a wrought iron key that looked like it would open a castle, not a mountain lodge.
“Congratulations, Mr. Lumber. You and your brothers now own the most derelict building within thirty miles of Chance Rapids.”
I laughed and felt the weight of the key in my hand before slipping it into the pocket of my jacket. The secretary made a loud groan from a little kitchenette. “Charlotte, the coffee maker is on the fritz again.”
Charlotte shook her head. “Technology.” She pulled a coat from a hook by the front door, “I’ll go get some,” she shouted. Then she looked at me. “Can I buy you a coffee to celebrate?”
It would be the perfect time to ask Charlotte some questions about my future business, questions that weren’t directly related to the transaction. There was nothing flirtatious about my realtor, and since moving home I’d become friendly with her husband, Logan. I tried to stick to my one cup a day rule, but I’d already broken that with Henrietta Scissorhands. “Sure. It’s too early for beer isn’t it?”
Charlotte shot me a grin, and from behind her oversized sunglasses pumped her eyebrows. “We could always go get a local’s coffee from your mom.”
From the door of Charlotte’s office, I had a clear view down Main Street to the garage. The big bay door was open and Henrietta’s crappy rental was still on the hoist.
“Actually, if it’s okay with you, I’d love to hit up Sugar Peaks for one of the croissants.”
