Thursday is fast approaching and I sit exhausted in a place that is small, where we trip over each other and ourselves, but that is good.
The realtor texts. Texts back again. We text back and forth repeatedly. I have done my job and done it well. There remain tidbits to do tomorrow at the other house. Painting, sweeping, trash to be put out. Windows to be cleaned. But considering the work behind me it is nothing. And when it is all done I'll take my floppy sombrero hat, amble to the pool and rest on the sidelines with a water jug and a book. I may even ride over Thursday morning to swim. Then again. I may not.
Dylan woke me today, "Mom?".."Unhhh". It was 1:37 p.m. and i had been asleep for less than four hours, having worked another twelve hour night shift. "Mom?..When are you going to take us over to Dad's house?".."mm, when do you want to go?".."Soon." And so I lay there until inspiration roused me enough to get up, put on jeans and load into the car with the boys (almost men), driving them over to their dad's house.
Dropping them off I returned to Clover Way and pulled into the now alien drive, clicked the garage door open and entered through the mud room, hauling a large, heavy folding table (a university auction find) out into the sunshine before sliding it into the back of the Prius. Driving out I saw Dylan in his dad's red Yukon, he smiled. He was coming over to pick up his punching bag and the stand it was on. And so, again, I returned to the house.
The punching bag was the last of the large pieces of furniture to go. Other than a few cleaning supplies and Dylan's broken 'trick' bike (which will go to Walt's for repair), the place is empty.
The closing table will not be the typical table in that I will not sit around with the others stone faced cold and sign paper after paper after paper and leave with a bankroll of cash. The paperwork I sign on Thursday will be in the Title office, with the girls (women) I have come to know through multiple conversations over paper trails and legalities (an incorrect 'lean' placed on the house..wha???). Also in attendance will be my realtor and my lawyer (in spirit if not in fact). I will pay. But it is a 'relatively' small amount and it is freedom I'm paying for, and that, dear friends, is priceless.
So when I talk about looking at real estate and dreaming of this or that small property...that is all it is, talk. And what exactly is talk other than just air escaping the body.