Page 48 of Why Cheese?
“THREE, TWO…” I give a little bounce, but the three cheeses remain that. Surely it’s sunset by now.
Nervously, I scroll through my phone, doing my best to not see the fifty voicemails from my mother who’s booked my return flight for the past three days. Let’s see, the weather app says it’ll be sunset in…one minute. I guess I could put on lipstick before—
“This place is looking good.”
Confused, I turn to the masculine voice behind me. I made sure to put the cheddar, brie, and camembert on little cushions behind the counters so they wouldn’t get dusty. Did I miss Roq hiding outside?
Instead of the massive, blue-haired grouch, a slick man in a suit stands just inside the shop. He gives a sharp whistle and drops the phone glued to his ear. “Veronica, right?” With a nod to me, he’s off inspecting the shelves the guys fixed.
“Um, I’m Violette,” I say, scrambling to keep up. It’s the realtor. Josh somebody. I think it starts with a W. It’d be easier to remember his name if it was cheese-related.
What has my life become?
“Nice, nice. Good work on the floor. We should remove all of these, want to give the client the opportunity to envision their own retail space here.” He strains to reach one of the old tin signs with a cartoon mouse stealing a wedge of cheese.
“What are you doing?” I mean for my statement to be confrontational, but I can only squeak out in confusion. He struggles to wedge his fingers under the old sign and gives up.
“Maybe paint the walls after they’re down. I’ve got a few samples of popular beiges and grays. These walls are a bit too yellow for modern tastes.”
I always liked the soft yellow. It felt like walking into a beam of sunshine as a kid, even if it’s faded to more of a bathwater ochre after all this time. “What do you think about Saturday?” The realtor pauses just next to the counter where he picks up my uncle’s old sign and moves to toss it.
I catch it and hold it tight to my chest. “For what?”
“The open house. I’m certain you’ll have the last of the repairs done by then. Maybe hire a few people to give it one last spritz. I’ll swing by an hour before, check things out, give the usual spiel.”
Saturday?“But that’s the day after tomorrow,” I squeak.
“Exactly. Don’t want to sit too long on this or the price will bottom out.”
Oh…poop. I forgot to tell the realtor.He doesn’t even pause to look back at me for confirmation. Josh moves on to inspect the bathroom which started surprisingly clean and was made even better.
“There’s been a little change in plans,” I say.
He flicks on the light and looks around. “Does that work?” he asks, pointing to the toilet.
“I…I think so.”
“Great.” He flips off the switch and returns to pacing around the frankly small floor.
“It’s just that, well, I found a lot of cheese in a cellar.”
“That’ll happen with old cellars.” He’s hunched over his phone paying me no attention whatsoever.
“And the thing is, I can’t sell for three months.”
“Oh, I’m sure we’ll be out of escrow before…” Josh jerks his head up and snaps to me like a very angry crow. “What did you say?”
“There’s just that, while I was—you know—cleaning, I found a lot of my uncle’s old cheese.”
“So you need a second dumpster.”
“No! It’s good. Great. Fantastic. Cheddar that’s been aged for twenty years. I was thinking that, I mean, it seems like it’d be a waste if I don’t…”
Josh bears down on me and my chest collapses like a slinky in a trash compactor. “What are you saying right now? You can’t be telling me you don’t intend to sell.”
“I do, just, um…” I bite my lip and nervously scratch my arm. “Not right away?”
“You’re seriously willing to leave five million on the table for some moldy cheese?”
