~Chapter Ten~
Written by: Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy
Reference: From My Window
Today is the day. This is the day I will find them a house.
The Evil-Good's have to give up the ghost at some point. I know there's something out there for them.
Even though I'm a little weirded out by the lurker guy in the window, I think this could be the house for them. But, I've got my little rectangular stress box just in case.
It's truly a stunning home. I did some further research last night, and discovered that many additions and upgrades have been added in recent years. Ten years ago, when it was built, it started out as a 3-bedroom, 2-bath home. Now, it's listed as a 6-bedroom, 4.5-bath home.
What in the name of God could have these people continuing to put more bedrooms in when they could just upgrade to something larger? Their house looks like a castle compared to the others that surround it.
It's no wonder that they're having a tough time selling. You can't ask for sixty thousand dollars more than any other house in the neighborhood, it's just not logical.
I've heard they've been through several realtors, who probably advised them of the price issues, but seeing now that they're listed as "For Sale By Owner", I guess they're just hoping for good luck on their own.
May as well call them and ask if I can do a showing later today.
I pick up the phone and dial.
One ring…
Two rings…
Halfway through the third ring, I hear someone pick up… but am met with semi-silence on the end.
Semi-silence because nobody is specifically addressing me and acknowledging the phone call with your basic, "hello".
Instead, what I do hear is something akin to the floor at the New York Stock Exchange.
People are yelling, babies are screaming, and it sounds like the phone just fell down a flight of stairs.
What the—? Click.
"Will, give Daddy the phone." I hear a man shout.
"NO! I had it first! I wanna give it to Daddy!"
"Emma just—"
"NOOOOO!" a little girl shrills in the background.
"Wiiiiilll? Wiillll! Don't you do it! Don't you dare throw the phone in the potty!" The father? I think it's the father. Sure doesn't sound like he has much control, though.
"Just…just…"
"GRACIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" shouts a booming male voice.
I hear next what sounds like a WWF match, and then two, ear-piercing screams.
"Thank you, Grace. Now please go make sure that Will and Emma aren't bleeding, wouldja?"
"Okay, Daddy."
"Hello?" a male voice shouts into the receiver.
"Uhh, yes, hello? Mr. Cullen?"
"Yes, this is Edward Cullen…could you just hang on a second?"
Before I can say, "Certainly, sir," I hear the phone drop and another shouting match begin. I give the box a thorough workout as I contemplate just hanging up. Can you break a clicker?
"YOU! You sit here until I tell you to get out of that chair, Will! And YOU, Emma, you are the big sister. Quit making him crazy. If he grabs the phone from you, it's not the end of the world. Do you know how many things he's stolen from me? You don't see me crying! Now. Both of you cry silently so I don't have to hear you. I have to finish changing Katie's pooper diaper and talk on the phone. I will tell you when you can come out of your room."
*DOOR SLAM*
"Hello? Still there?"
"Oh, yes, I'm here," I laugh, uncomfortably.
"Sorry about that. My wife's been gone all morning at a doctor's appointment and the kids have been staging a coup."
"I understand. Sorry, I didn't introduce myself yet. This is Katherine Komma, from Ellipses Real Estate. I have a young married couple who may be interested in your home. I was hoping to come by later this afternoon to show your house. Would that be alright?"
"Uhhh, yeah. How long do I have?" He asks, sounding slightly short of flustered.
"Can we come by at four?"
"Uhh, yeah, that gives me about six hours. I should be okay, I hope. Right now it looks like a tornado ripped through the house."
"Oh… uhhhh." I don't know what to say, so I just continue with my misplaced, nervous giggles, my finger sliding into the groove of the over used button.
"It's okay. We'll see you at four," he reinforces, steadily.
"Thank you sir, see you then." As I'm hanging up, I hear him start shouting again, hopefully not at me, but more than likely at the little ones who were causing the ruckus earlier.
*o*O*o*
"So you think this might be the place for us, Ms. Komma?" I hear Mr. Evil-Good ask from the back seat of the car.
I chuckle at his silliness.
Do I hope so? Hell yes, I do.
Do I think they're actually going to settle on it? No. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be showing houses to this couple until Kingdom come. And it doesn't seem too far off, to be frank. I'm going to have to ask Mr. Cullen, my boss, about new batteries for the complaint clicker.
With all their godly and hellish banter, I feel like I'm at the Republican National Convention or something. My liberal instincts want to flip the freak out…but it's weird, they don't seem politically derisive.
I still can't put my finger on it.
These two have been super-weird. Pretty much the two oddest people I've ever dealt with since I started in this business. I mean, they seem pretty cool in demeanor, all the while being very hot in physical appearance.
I don't know.
They're the coolest, hot weirdos I've ever met, that's for damn sure.
Every time I'm around them, the Katy Perry song, "Extra Terrestrial" comes to mind. I shrug to myself and then remember the mister asked me a question.
"Sorry, I spaced there for a second. Umm, yes, I would love to believe that this is the house for you. It's a little on the bigger side, but with all the talk of your children and future grandchildren and the legions of angels you mentioned you have over for dinner from time to time, I think a bigger space might be just what you're looking for!" I push, in my best sales tactics voice.
We pull into the driveway and walk to the door to ring the bell.
The front door opens and a man I presume to be Mr. Cullen greets us, wearing torn, paint splattered jeans and a white t-shirt with just as many colored speckles. He looks like a real-live Jackson Pollack work of art.
"Dad, I'm telling you. I had a dream I was getting married to some girl named Athena! We were all a lot older. You had a bunch of gray hair and you were pissed 'cause Emma's boyfriend kept staring at mom all night!" I see a young boy talking Mr. Cullen's ear off.
"Hi Ms. Komma, Edward Cullen." Mr. Cullen shakes my hand. "Hello." He smiles and nods at the Evil-Good's. "Please, come in."
He steps aside cheerfully as we all settle into the foyer.
"Daaaaad!" The boy pulls on his arm.
"Cai! Enough, buddy. You can tell me about your dream later, okay? I need to do adult stuff now."
The little guy walks away in a huff with his arms crossed.
"First, let me apologize for my appearance. I had to throw another coat of paint on the windowsill and the wall below. Darn kids. They keep, uhhh… they keep attacking it with markers. And Magic Eraser only works up to a point. Then you end up taking layers of paint off with your constant scrubbing. My wife keeps telling them to stop doing it at the window… but uhhh, they're kids, y'know? They just don't listen… and uhh, yeah. So anyway, sorry about the paint smell. But I just wanted to spruce up the place for you."
He smiles nervously like he's been caught with his hand down his pants or something.
Creepy lurker guy.
He's freaking handsome as all hell. Almost as hot as Mr. Evil-Good.
"I'll leave you to it." Mr. Cullen shoots up the stairs to referee what sounds like the beginnings of another wrestling match.
For the next twenty minutes, we tour the Cullen's home.
The Evil-Good's are very impressed with all of the spacious bedrooms and the upgrades that have been put in. It's clear from the tour that the Cullen's are trying to be the next reality TV family, like "74 Kids and Counting" or something.
I counted four children's beds, one toddler bed and two cribs. They were organized and separated by gender throughout the five smaller bedrooms. The master bedroom at least looks like two adults can find their sanctuary in there. And with seven children, I'd imagine some meditation and deep breathing exercises are required to stay sane.
As we emerge from the basement, which looked like a children's fairy-tale land, I hear the front door slam and a female start shouting.
"Well, I hope you're proud of yourself honey! You did it again! You knocked me up! I can't believe I've worked so hard to get the baby weight off from having the twins, and now I'm gonna have another freakin' kid!"
"Honey."
"No, seriously, Edward! You need to keep it in your pants, buster. We're getting twin beds like they had in the olden days on TV. Like from reruns of 'Leave it to Beaver' and stuff!"
"Honeeeey," we hear Mr. Cullen reply, "it's your beaver that keeps getting us into these predicaments. I can't stay away! Like a moth to a flame, baby. In fact…"
I raise my eyebrows as I make eye contact with the Evil-Good's who are snickering to each other. I roll my eyes and smirk, joining in their giggles as we continue to overhear what started as a heated discussion between the Cullen's. Now that we've rounded the corner, and see them in an embrace though, I know it is the beginnings of another love-fest.
I clear my throat to announce our presence.
"Well, we're finished! I've left my card on your kitchen counter. We'll be giving you a call shortly with the offer!" I smile. "Mr. and Mrs. Evil-Good think this is the house for them." I proudly declare.
"Oh!" Mr. Cullen starts chuckling with a sheepish look to his face. "Yeah, I think we're going to be taking the house back off the market…seems we have another precious package on the way." He beams, laying his hand across his wife's little belly.
They look at each other and start laughing at their happy news. And it is happy... for them. But perhaps I can still convince them to relocate?
"Well congrats! I have some terrific listings of eight and nine bedroom homes along the sound if you're interested," I say, jumping on the chance of making a sale AND picking up new clients.
Mrs. Cullen crinkles her nose and looks up at her husband. He responds with, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
And as if they'd rehearsed it, the Cullen's simultaneously say to one another, "Third floor construction?"
And they burst into laughter again.
We all do, actually.
As the Evil-Good's congratulate the Cullen's and laugh at the circumstances, my laughter stems from anxiety and a borderline panic attack at the thought that I'll be stuck with the Evil-Good's forever, since our search for their perfect house continues to elude us.
Ahhh, well.
This can't go on forever, right? I mean, seriously.
I'll remain cautiously optimistic.
We'll find the right house soon. It'll happen before the second coming, of that I'm sure.
Of course, the damn box will definitely need to be replaced by then, not just the batteries. Click. Click. Click. Click. I'll make sure of it. Click click click.
.
.
.