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I look at the one-story investment property, then finger the key yet again. It’s beautiful in its own way, even if it needs a little tender love and care. For instance, a few of the shrubs on the side need trimming, and the window on the right side needs replacing. It’s covered in duct tape, but I see a beautiful opportunity to install a new one that sparkles and shines like new.
There are also weeds popping out of the driveway. A few cracks are scattered here and there, some sneaking under the spot where I’m standing. One especially big weed takes up residence right smack on the cracked sidewalk, almost as if it thinks that it’s going to pay me rent instead of the O'Haras.
I sniffle as I wriggle my feet happily. "I don’t know the first thing about managing a rental property."
Bryce tousles my hair. "Keeping up this home is now the O'Haras' responsibility. They must tend the garden, pull the weeds, and replace their own windows. That’s because they’re homeowners—that’s the opportunity that we’re providing to them."
"How do I manage this?" I’m terribly new to finance in general, and I fail to even control my bank account. That’s why my mother pays my card bills.
Bryce smiles. "Their money will flow into a new bank account at my favorite bank that I opened for you last week. I had your mother’s permission, don’t worry. You’ll be able to do what you like with the money. If you want to buy a new toy digger or trade some real-world bucks for club bucks at the Hug Club, you can withdraw the money from this account. That way, you’re not touching what you bring home at your job."
Bryce leans in and dusts my lips with a kiss. "Daddy will still buy you plenty of treats, baby boy. And you’ll live with him. This is to teach you financial responsibility. Your mother told me you lacked this, so I’m taking it upon myself to fix it. A Daddy should never let his boy go out into the world failing to understand basic principles of real estate investing. It’s a shame because real estate is the best way to build wealth in the United States."
I leap into Bryce’s arms and return his kiss tenfold. Now, I already know that I’m not going to touch the money the O'Haras give me—I’m going to fix up their property and make it spick and span. Bye bye weeds, bye bye window, bye bye cracked driveway.
This will cost a lot of money. But I’m the one giving them the opportunity to purchase this house now. Not Bryce or another seasoned real estate investor. I must be the change I want to see in the world.
"I want to help the O'Haras with their house, Daddy." I speak this out loud because I want it to come true. The stronger you say something, the better chance you have of making it a reality.
Bryce laughs, then looks over his shoulder. "I thought you might say that. That’s why I organized a home makeover for the O'Haras before we even drove up."
Right on cue, ten trucks bumping party music boasting brilliant colors drive up. A camera crew rolls up beside them, and I recognize the crew from a top home flipping show here in the area.
The drivers are the working guys from Bryce’s job site.
They rush out, holding colorful toolboxes and grinning like madmen. Their hardhats aren’t only yellow and orange this time—they’re blue, red, pink, green, and every other color of the rainbow.
"Who’s ready to help some people today?!" one shouts.
"Woohoo!" the star of the flipping show yells as he raises his fist. "Let's do this!"
The O'Haras rush out of the house. "Oh, Bryce! I didn’t think you’d really do this!"
Bryce walks toward them and pumps their hands. "I’m so happy to see you all. You don't have to thank me—thank my baby boy, BJ. He’s the one who inspired me to help fix your home and give you the keys. I’ll tell you one more time that every check you send me goes straight to paying off your mortgage. You’re not renting from me, not anymore. You’re homeowners. Welcome to the USA."
"We’ve been here for a few years now," the husband of the O'Haras family says, "but thanks!"
An Irish jig pumps from the car speakers as the crew get to work. They carry out the O'Haras' things, then haul in paint, sanders, hammers, nail guns, rollers, and bins to haul out garbage. As it turns out, one of the O'Haras' children is a hoarder, and so the working guys find quite a stash of things.
I run toward the toys, grinning like a schoolboy as I comb through them. Dolls, trucks. Stuffies. So many goodies.
Bryce lifts me up by the back of my shirt. "No, boy. No stealing their things."
"B-But Daddy!"
"You’re here to help them renovate their home, not take their trucks and stuffies."
I sniffle, then nod and grin. "Yes, Daddy. Thank you for reminding me."
Holding me up by my shirt, Bryce airplanes me close to him and kisses me. Muah. Warm fuzzies burst around my body, and I wriggle my toes as he zooms me through the air. This is the best distraction because as great as it feels to help my new friends the O'Haras, I’m bored with all the work and want to play with Daddy.
In no time, the working guys and TV crew finish what they came here to do. They throw confetti and dance, celebrating their amazing job.
"We did it!" The working guys pull out a carton of Mountain Dew.
They pass cans around and we all laugh as we drink it, even the O'Haras. The young hoarder child drinks two cans but it’s a special day for him so no one says anything. They let him have his joy.
In this life, it’s important to do the things that make you happy. It doesn’t matter if it’s playing with stuffies or drinking soda. Life is short and you’ve got to live it up while you can.
