Page 60 of Second Round

She agreed, and then I calledBrent.

“An offer already? I hope it’s not some low-ball deal,” hegrumbled.

“What’s the problem? You’re not being inconvenienced in any way at all. You were coming hereanyway.”

“I told you we should have used Andrew as our realtor. Then I’d know that everything was being doneright.”

“Brent! We went through this before—Carole had a higher listing price. You’re the one who’s all about not leaving money on the table. She said that the open houses went great, there were tons of people here, and someone was very interested. What more do you want? We haven’t even heard theofferyet.”

There was a moment of silence. I never talked back toBrent.

Sharon’s words were echoing in my head.I couldn’t believe all the crap you took from Brent.For so long, I never questioned whether he was right or wrong. After he left, I had too many reasons to be nice to him: hoping he’d come back, negotiating our settlement, for the sake of the kids. But now everything was settled, and he was beginning to get on my nerves. We weren’t married anymore yet he still treated me the same way—as if I was too dumb to understandthings.

“Okay, I’ll come over by 4:30,” he said. Maybe I needed to take a firmer stand with Brent. It was tough because we fell into our old roles whenever we spoke. He was the opinionated one, and I was thepeacemaker.

The kids came home, had a snack, and went straight to their rooms to do their homework. That was the drill on DadNight.

Carole appeared early in her bright red suit with matching lipstick. She reminded me of a hummingbird, always in motion. She took the coffee I offered and sat down in thelivingroom.

“Your home is so gorgeous. Always open house ready—you’re a realtor’sdream.”

“Oh, believe me, there’s a lot of cleaning up involved beforehand. And the kids think I’ve turned into a nagging machine. We’ll all get to exhale once the placehassold.”

She nodded vigorously. “Maybe that willbesoon.”

There was a rap on the door, and Brent walked right in. We moved into thediningroom.

“I have great news. I have an offer on the house, and it’s a good one.” Carole took papers out of her briefcase. “A family from Calgary fell in love with your home. Their offer is at our asking price, but more than that—” She paused dramatically. “Since they have two children, they really want to move in during the summer and get settled. I know your preference is to close at the end of the summer, but they’ve offered a $20,000 bonus if you’re willing to move at the endofJune.”

My brain tried to wrap around this. The fact that we got our asking price was great and validated my decision to go with Carole. But it was already May, and there was no way that I could pack up the house and find a new place inthattime.

Brent nodded. “That sounds like a great deal. Moving out early shouldn’t be anissue.”

“Brent! I can’t do that. There are too many things to do in that time. And we haven’t got a new place to movetoyet.”

“It’s a big whack of cash, Jackie. We could pay for professional movers out of that and still make money. I’m sure Carole here can help you find a newplace.”

I shook my head. “There’s no way. The kids finish school in late June, and they have things on. And I signed them up for summercamps.”

“What’s the big deal? They can go to camp from wherever they live. I don’t think you understand the value of adollar.”

“I think I do. If we had gone with your realtor, we’d have already lost fifty thousandbynow.”

Carole cleared her throat. “Perhaps I can make asuggestion.”

We both looked over, and she was radiating calm. As a real estate agent for divorcing couples, she needed to be a part-time diplomat and psychologist. “What about the end of July, Jackie? Do you think you could be ready to move by then? We could suggest splitting the bonus in half then. And you might consider renting first, while you’re looking for anewhome.”

“I need a little time to think about this,” I said. Brent continued talking about how easy it was all going to be, but I tuned him out. I was sad to be leaving my beloved home, but perhaps it would be better for our kids as well. They could get settled in a new place beforeschool.

We signed the counter offer and left Carole in the dining room to make some phonecalls.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” I asked, but Brent shookhishead.

“Let’s not celebrate until this thing is done,” he commanded. He looked around the living room with satisfaction. “See, Jackie, the new art really sets off the place. It’s, you know,subtle.”

I allowed myself a smirk. Brent had never cottoned onto the fact that I’d basically camouflaged the original artwork. All he knew that there was less colour, so it must be more refined. And it bugged me that he was taking credit for art directing the interior decoration, when I’d done allthework.

“I’ll send you the bill for thenewart.”

---