5 | Samaj #3
He sounded like he was holding back tears and that did something to my psyche. My dad was one of the strongest bull-headed people I knew. For him to open up like this felt like a step in the right direction. His faith in things turning around was enough for me to hold on to for the time being.
When I pulled back into my parents’ driveway, I sat in the car for a moment, fingers drumming on the wheel, still thinking about dropping Simone off.
Everything played out perfectly and I was riding a high I didn’t want to come down from.
But I couldn’t bask in the feeling for long because the way things were going in my life I’d be a fool to get my hopes up.
Good things never seem to last in my world.
Shaking my head, I tried not to let my mind run wild as I stepped out and looked at our house.
Twenty years in this place. Every room had a memory tied to it.
Shiloh and I didn’t have much of an extended family.
No grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins who would come visit but we had each other and our home for the most part was filled with love and good memories.
A few moments later, a white Range Rover Velar pulled up behind me and Harmony hopped out, a designer work bag slung over her shoulder.
She was young, maybe around my age or slightly older, but she had this way of carrying herself that made you straighten up a little. Black slacks, soft blouse, her honey blonde locs were pulled back into a neat ponytail, and a confident smile like she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Hi, you must be Samaj,” she said, offering her hand.
“Yeah. Thanks for coming by. My parents are a little busy, so it will just be me doing the walk through.” I replied, shaking her hand. Her grip was firm. Professional. Reminded me she wasn’t here to play.
“No problem. My mom told me the story of helping your parents buy this house.”
“Yeah. This house is pretty much all I’ve ever known.” My throat tightened for a second.
“I can imagine,” she said gently, unlocking her iPad. “But I’ll walk you through everything, okay? No pressure. Today I’m just here to give you information.”
Inside, we moved from room to room. Her eyes were sharp, catching details the average person probably wouldn’t notice, but someone passionate about Real Estate and Architecture would.
“The natural light in here is amazing,” she said, standing in the living room. “And the layout? Buyers love this. Open, but still warm. I think we can make this a highlight during marketing. Whoever built this house really knew what they were doing.”
She spoke with confidence, a steady rhythm that sounded practiced yet completely natural.
In the kitchen, she tapped a few notes into her iPad after taking a couple of photos.
“Homes in your neighborhood have been selling fast. The one on the corner of Clover and 19th Ave? Had a whole bidding war. Another one two streets over went above the asking price after only being on the market for five days.”
She turned to me, eyes bright. “I don’t even think we’d need staging. Just some strong marketing and I think your home can easily compete with—or outperform—both.”
“You really think so?” I asked, because part of me felt weird hearing someone talk about the house as a business transaction instead of what it had always been to me… home. But I get it, she was doing her job.
“I know so,” she said, smiling. “And your backyard? That’s going to be a major selling point. Families will love it. And if we get drone photos? Even better.”
Drone photos. Virtual tours. Market analysis. She broke everything down like she ate, slept, and breathed real estate.
“My mom trained me,” she said as if reading my thoughts.
“She’s kind of a big deal in this business. I feel like everyone knows her in the real estate world. I’m trying to make my own name but there’s definitely a part of me that wants to make her proud.”
I nodded, glancing around the kitchen, the place where my brother used to crack jokes, where my mom used to cook while listening to Whitney Houston or my dad used to fix himself his daily cup of coffee, where silence eventually swallowed everything whole.
Harmony finished her notes and closed her iPad.
“I already have the info I need from you, so I’ll have the CMA report to you and your parents later this evening,” she said.
“And if you all decide to move forward, I’ll take care of everything.
My goal is to make this as smooth and stress-free as possible. Do you have any questions for me?”
“No, but thanks for coming. Especially on such short notice.”
She gave a small, understanding nod. “No problem.”
After walking her to the front door, I stood in the foyer for a moment, letting the silence settle around me. Another change I couldn’t control was looming ahead, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
There’s a part of me that can’t see us letting this place go.
Then there’s the other part—the one that knew holding onto something simply because it was familiar can keep you stuck.
And if I’m honest we’d been stuck for months.
Maybe selling the house wasn’t an ending. Maybe it was the reset we all needed.