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“Oh, he already knows Marty. He figured it out on his own when you didn’t show up to his fifteenth birthday.”
“That was a miscommunication. I thought—”
The front door of the house opened. Both Marty and Rebecca instantly shut up.
A young man in a polo shirt, held his lovely — and very pregnant — wife close to him.
“We’re here for the open house.” The man’s face was completely pale, and his words came out meekly. They’d heard the fighting from behind the door, but for the sake of the sale, I hoped we could all pretend that it didn’t happen, and everything was hunky dory.
“Yes, yes,” I said, grabbing a flyer and handing it to them. “Please, let me show you around.”
“We’ll be okay,” the wife said. “We’ll look around on our own.”
“Absolutely.” I put on my realtor’s smile. “Just ask me if—”
And I hiccupped. I knew it was coming, I just was hoping that it would wait until a little bit later in the day.
“…if you have any questions.”
Another hiccup.
The wife nodded and she and her husband went upstairs.
The three of us listened intently to their footsteps and their murmuring, just a little too quiet for us to pick up on individual words. But the timbre of their voices wasn’t encouraging. Meanwhile, I did my best to stifle the hiccups that eventually calmed into nothing.
As they moved from room to room upstairs, we moved below them, following the sounds of the creaking above us. In time, they descended the stairs, and the husband politely thanked us before returning the flyer to me.
“You can hold onto that,” I said.
He looked at the paper as if to say, “Why would I want to do that?”
“It’s okay,” he said, not even humoring us with the possibility of interest. And then he and his wife left.
For a moment, I was comfortable. Despite their animosity, Marty and Rebecca came together once the potential buyers arrived and, at the very least, remained quiet. As long as they could continue doing that, there was a chance — I’d expect even a good chance — that we’d have some interest before the day ended. Perhaps this would work out after all.
That hope completely evaporated almost as soon as the second couple arrived. The man was quite striking, particularly in his business outfit that was tailored to fit him perfectly. He had the kind of smile that only comes with money. The wife was equally pretty, giving the two of them a kind of Barbie and Ken aura.
I could tell just from looking at them that if they made an offer, it would go through. They exuded wealth. There wouldn’t be any fighting with the bank — it was possible they might even be able to pay cash for the house.
Rebecca must have had the same thought. I could practically see dollar signs in her eyes.
Don’t get too excited, I reminded myself.They’re only looking. You don’t want to seem desperate.
“Good morning,” I said, handing them the flyer.
They offered their good mornings, and I gave them a brief introduction.
“Would you like a tour?” I asked.
“Certainly,” the wife said.
I cleared my throat and mentally checked my posture. The house had been furnished for the showing — barren houses generally don’t sell as well, so the few hundred to a thousand dollars spent to rent furniture for a few days ends up paying off at least tenfold — and in furnishing it, the realtor has come up with a story. I walked the couple through the house, showing them the master bedroom and pausing for a second, asking them if they had any children. They didn’t, but they were hoping to sometime in the near future. That dictated the next room I showed: the nursery.
Marty and Rebecca’s son was well into his teens, but something about a room with a crib seemed to suggest family more than an older child might. As we were about to enter, I heard the divorcing couple downstairs. They weren’t quite shouting yet, but they’d get there if I didn’t put a stop to it.
“Excuse me,” I told the touring couple, “but I need to check on something downstairs. Feel free to wander in the meantime. I’ll be right back.”
I kept my voice calm, indicating nothing to suggest that something could be wrong. Then, the second I was out of their sight, I rushed back down to the living room, where Marty and Rebecca were arguing.
