Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Three
Page 28
“I don’t think so,” I smiled. “Last night his friends threw him a bachelor party so chances are they’re either sleeping or still up to no good.” I almost laughed out loud as I recalled Preppy’s middle of the night phone call to slur ‘I love you’ into the phone while Bear, King, and Kevin threw stuff at him in the background, eventually taking his phone away.
“His bachelor party? I thought you two were already married. I’m sorry, I’ve been calling him your husband this entire time,” East said, sincerely as if the error were his.
“No. We are married. It’s a long story,” I answered. “A really long story.”
“Ah, well we all have a few of those, don’t we,” East said.
“Understatement of the year. So, tell me, what are the yearly taxes?” I asked.
East rattled off some numbers from the print out in his hand. I nodded. It added up with what other similarly valued homes in the area were paying.
“Let’s go on inside,” East said. I followed him to the front door. “As you already know, the house is two stories and about eighteen hundred square feet of living space,” he said, rattling off facts from the listing as I followed him up the cracked driveway. “It’s very cozy on the inside. It has a lot of potential though, just needs some love.”
“So what you’re saying is that it’s small, shitty, and needs to be overhauled?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at East.
He laughed and shook his index finger at me. “Ah, you speak realtor.” He turned a key into the lock. I took a step back from the door to inspect the front again while he grumbled about not being able to get the door open.
The house looked just like it had in the picture. Moldy yellow siding. Overgrown landscaping. Missing shingles. Broken windows.
Fix me. It called out to me.
So far it was perfect.
“It was built in nineteen twenty-one and back in its glory days was probably owned by a wealthy family and used often as a place to entertain and impress,” East said, finally getting the door to open by pushing his shoulder against it. I ducked under a spider web and followed him into the main living area. “The Ford/Edison estates aren’t too far from here so chances are whoever built this place originally hosted them here.”
“Unfortunately, she isn’t doing much impressing anymore,” I said, trying not to show on the outside what I was feeling on the inside because if I did I’d be jumping up and down saying ‘I’LL TAKE IT YESSSS!!!’ She might not ever be a place for the rich to entertain, but I knew I could make her not just beautiful again, but functional, and even affordable for the right family if I paid extra attention to my costs and did most of the work myself.
“I have to make sure that the bones are still in good shape,” I said “Wrinkles and sags are worthless repairs if they are set on top of broken bones.”
“Ah, so you have done this before,” East said.
“Nope, that’s actually something my grandmother used to say, although I was pretty sure she was talking about something else entirely, I feel like it applies here.”
The trim around the doors and baseboards were all original and only needed a good sanding and painting. The flooring consisted of stained shag carpet and torn laminate floor tiles, the kind that stick to the ground like big stickers. However, when I tugged at a corner of the carpet my eyes landed on a beautiful sight. The original hardwood floors. They’d seen better days but to me it was like finding gold at the end of the rainbow.
The electrical wiring was another story. So old and out of code, it ran outside of the crumbling plaster walls, which also needed to be replaced. Also, the plumbing was virtually non-existent. Since the house had been vacant for over seven years, anything of value had been stolen long ago, including its copper piping.
“It’s on a full two acres which is rare in this area, most lots are only a quarter of an acre,” East informed me as we descended the stairs having just saw the three smaller bedrooms and single bathroom on the second story. The master was on the main level, but would need to be gutted and completely replaced. “There is plenty of room for a nice big deck in the back, even a pool depending on who you plan on marketing to,” he added. “Families may not want that, but vacationers or second homes wouldn’t buy it unless it had one. Plus, it’s the only Victorian style house left in the area that hasn’t already been bought and refinished so there is a market for this style home once it’s been renovated. I mean these days all the new ones are stucco square boxes that look like they came straight from a house factory. I just came from a new development in Harper’s Ridge and let me tell you, they want a million bucks for shine covered shit.” East covered his mouth with his hand. “I’m so sorry for my language.”
I laughed. “Trust me, no need to apologize.”
I ran my hand along the dusty banister, revealing hints of it’s original deep cherry finish. I didn’t want to just remodel this house. I wanted to bring it to life. It didn’t need changing, it needed CPR so it could breathe again.
It was going to be a difficult task, considering all the work that needed to be done, but I was up for it. Excitement surged inside me, but I kept my composure. “I’ll need a full inspection report of course. I can’t see the roof so I’ll need a professional to assess that for me so my offer will be contingent on it not needing to be completely replaced down to the trusses, amongst other things.” East took notes on his smartphone as I spoke.
“Of course,” he said, nodding and tapping one last button before shoving his phone back in his pocket. “You are a natural at this.”
“That is yet to be determined,” I said, “but I guess we’ll find out.”
“What did you do before you decided to do start renovating and flipping homes?” he asked. We were in the backyard, which was piled with garbage carelessly tossed over the fence throughout the years.
“I was in school,” I said, almost tripping over a rusted bicycle with no wheels. “Before that I spent a whole lot of time making mistakes.”
“Well, Jesus forgives our sins, it’s us sinners that usually have a hard time forgetting,” East said. I wasn’t surprised that he was a man of faith. The ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ sticker on his bumper and the ‘Christ is my Superstar’ rubber bracelet he wore were kind of giveaways.
“His bachelor party? I thought you two were already married. I’m sorry, I’ve been calling him your husband this entire time,” East said, sincerely as if the error were his.
“No. We are married. It’s a long story,” I answered. “A really long story.”
“Ah, well we all have a few of those, don’t we,” East said.
“Understatement of the year. So, tell me, what are the yearly taxes?” I asked.
East rattled off some numbers from the print out in his hand. I nodded. It added up with what other similarly valued homes in the area were paying.
“Let’s go on inside,” East said. I followed him to the front door. “As you already know, the house is two stories and about eighteen hundred square feet of living space,” he said, rattling off facts from the listing as I followed him up the cracked driveway. “It’s very cozy on the inside. It has a lot of potential though, just needs some love.”
“So what you’re saying is that it’s small, shitty, and needs to be overhauled?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at East.
He laughed and shook his index finger at me. “Ah, you speak realtor.” He turned a key into the lock. I took a step back from the door to inspect the front again while he grumbled about not being able to get the door open.
The house looked just like it had in the picture. Moldy yellow siding. Overgrown landscaping. Missing shingles. Broken windows.
Fix me. It called out to me.
So far it was perfect.
“It was built in nineteen twenty-one and back in its glory days was probably owned by a wealthy family and used often as a place to entertain and impress,” East said, finally getting the door to open by pushing his shoulder against it. I ducked under a spider web and followed him into the main living area. “The Ford/Edison estates aren’t too far from here so chances are whoever built this place originally hosted them here.”
“Unfortunately, she isn’t doing much impressing anymore,” I said, trying not to show on the outside what I was feeling on the inside because if I did I’d be jumping up and down saying ‘I’LL TAKE IT YESSSS!!!’ She might not ever be a place for the rich to entertain, but I knew I could make her not just beautiful again, but functional, and even affordable for the right family if I paid extra attention to my costs and did most of the work myself.
“I have to make sure that the bones are still in good shape,” I said “Wrinkles and sags are worthless repairs if they are set on top of broken bones.”
“Ah, so you have done this before,” East said.
“Nope, that’s actually something my grandmother used to say, although I was pretty sure she was talking about something else entirely, I feel like it applies here.”
The trim around the doors and baseboards were all original and only needed a good sanding and painting. The flooring consisted of stained shag carpet and torn laminate floor tiles, the kind that stick to the ground like big stickers. However, when I tugged at a corner of the carpet my eyes landed on a beautiful sight. The original hardwood floors. They’d seen better days but to me it was like finding gold at the end of the rainbow.
The electrical wiring was another story. So old and out of code, it ran outside of the crumbling plaster walls, which also needed to be replaced. Also, the plumbing was virtually non-existent. Since the house had been vacant for over seven years, anything of value had been stolen long ago, including its copper piping.
“It’s on a full two acres which is rare in this area, most lots are only a quarter of an acre,” East informed me as we descended the stairs having just saw the three smaller bedrooms and single bathroom on the second story. The master was on the main level, but would need to be gutted and completely replaced. “There is plenty of room for a nice big deck in the back, even a pool depending on who you plan on marketing to,” he added. “Families may not want that, but vacationers or second homes wouldn’t buy it unless it had one. Plus, it’s the only Victorian style house left in the area that hasn’t already been bought and refinished so there is a market for this style home once it’s been renovated. I mean these days all the new ones are stucco square boxes that look like they came straight from a house factory. I just came from a new development in Harper’s Ridge and let me tell you, they want a million bucks for shine covered shit.” East covered his mouth with his hand. “I’m so sorry for my language.”
I laughed. “Trust me, no need to apologize.”
I ran my hand along the dusty banister, revealing hints of it’s original deep cherry finish. I didn’t want to just remodel this house. I wanted to bring it to life. It didn’t need changing, it needed CPR so it could breathe again.
It was going to be a difficult task, considering all the work that needed to be done, but I was up for it. Excitement surged inside me, but I kept my composure. “I’ll need a full inspection report of course. I can’t see the roof so I’ll need a professional to assess that for me so my offer will be contingent on it not needing to be completely replaced down to the trusses, amongst other things.” East took notes on his smartphone as I spoke.
“Of course,” he said, nodding and tapping one last button before shoving his phone back in his pocket. “You are a natural at this.”
“That is yet to be determined,” I said, “but I guess we’ll find out.”
“What did you do before you decided to do start renovating and flipping homes?” he asked. We were in the backyard, which was piled with garbage carelessly tossed over the fence throughout the years.
“I was in school,” I said, almost tripping over a rusted bicycle with no wheels. “Before that I spent a whole lot of time making mistakes.”
“Well, Jesus forgives our sins, it’s us sinners that usually have a hard time forgetting,” East said. I wasn’t surprised that he was a man of faith. The ‘What Would Jesus Do?’ sticker on his bumper and the ‘Christ is my Superstar’ rubber bracelet he wore were kind of giveaways.
