4. Ben
Chapter four
Ben
“ A re we all set then?” I asked, leaning forward slightly in the chair, looking at the big stack of paperwork in front of me. I had already handed over the cashier’s check with the agreed upon down payment, and now I was going to be signing my name for the next fifteen minutes. It had taken a lot longer to close on the first few houses I bought, but that was a few years ago now, and I had gotten very familiar with the process since then. Besides, someone in the title office was always willing to turn over the pages of each document and stop at every page that required my signature—just to be sure that nothing was missed. Today, it was Chad, a middle-aged man with a perpetually furrowed brow, who had introduced himself since I hadn’t ever met him at a closing before.
“Yes, Mr. Culver, everything seems to be in order. Just need your signature here,” he said, pointing to the designated line on the last page of the first document.
I picked up the pen they had placed next to the stack and signed my name on the line. Signing these papers meant more than just acquiring a new property this time; it symbolized a step closer to Sophie—literally, which both thrilled and unnerved me. The house—coincidentally next door to Sophie’s parents’ place, where she was currently staying—had been chosen months ago, before I had any idea she’d be returning to town. Now the proximity offered a strange mix of anticipation and complexity, possibly intertwining our lives yet again.
As I signed the last document, the finality of the act settled in. “There we go,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. Then I had to wait while Chad disappeared to copy the stack. They would keep the copies with the original signatures, and I would get the photocopies for my files.
“Congratulations, Mr. Culver. The property is now officially yours,” Chad announced, handing the stack of photocopies to me in a file folder with the name of the title company on it. He offered a handshake that I returned.
“Thanks, Chad, but since I’ve bought quite a few houses in the valley over the years, closing on a property has become a pretty routine chore, and no congratulations are necessary. Now the renovation work begins,” I said and smiled.
The transaction completed, I put the folder in my briefcase, my mind already racing ahead. The work to be done, the inevitable interactions with Sophie and her family, the questions it would raise—they all loomed large, a tangled web of potential complications, given that Sophie had left angry the last time we’d been together.
Stepping out of the title company office, the bright daylight momentarily blinded me, a stark contrast to the muted interior I’d left behind. I paused, taking a deep breath, allowing the reality of my new project to sink in.
As I made my way to the car, a sense of purpose propelled me forward. I had a meeting to get to now, one I’d scheduled with my construction manager at the house I’d just bought. We needed to go over the work that should be done, so he could get a crew started on it.
Joe’s car was already parked in front of the house, and I pulled in behind him. We had worked together on most of the houses I had bought. I liked to buy fixer uppers and either flip them or keep them for rental income, and I had hired Joe as my project manager early on. I continued to work with him because he was reliable and insisted on good work from his crew.
“Ben,” he greeted me with a nod. We had worked together way too long for our relationship to be formal. Besides, there had been times when he couldn’t get a worker for his crew, and I had filled in if it was just a case of needing some muscle. I wasn’t about to let a remodel drag out because Joe couldn’t find anyone to help with demolition, for example. I would darn well pick up a sledgehammer and work alongside him until the wall was down. Of course, that was in the beginning when I didn’t have enough properties to keep a crew busy fulltime. It was different now. Now Joe’s guys had fulltime jobs maintaining my properties and remodeling new ones, and he rarely lost a crew member.
I used the keys that the former owner had left for me with the title company, and let us in. There was a foyer with a coat closet on one side. Then the living room extended to the left and the dining room was through an arched opening to the right with the kitchen next to it as you turned left and moved toward the back of the house. It was an older house with solid wood floors that badly needed refinishing. Across the living room from the foyer, there was a full bath straight ahead, a smaller bedroom to the left, and a set of stairs to the right. Upstairs there were two more bedrooms and a second full bath. Joe and I went through each room, and he used a small notebook to jot down what needed to be done in each one.
It didn’t take us too long to go through the house. Joe had seen it before, after all. I never bought a property without going over it at least once with him to quickly estimate the cost of a renovation. Without that estimate to weigh against the purchase price, you wouldn’t know whether the property was worth buying.
As I turned around from locking the front door behind us, I noticed someone walking along the sidewalk across from Sophie’s parents’ house. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman because the hood of their sweatshirt was pulled up over their head, hiding their face. Joe had just been giving me an estimated start date for the work to be done, when he stopped in the middle of a word.
“What is it, Ben?”
I turned to face him just outside the front door where the cement path to the house ended in a big square. “That person in the hoodie across the street was walking past the house next door when I arrived, and now here they are again on the other side of the street.”
“I don’t see the problem, but it’s clear you think there is one. What is it, Ben?”
“Well, it’s just odd the way they were staring at that particular house both times. I know the people that live there. My best friend from high school grew up in that house, and his parents and his youngest sister still live there. His other younger sister is visiting there right now, and, I don’t know, Joe, but with the two young women there now, I don’t like the attention the house is getting from that guy. At least, I think it was a guy. The face was hidden, so it was hard to tell.”
“Well, with your…uh, government work experience, you’re either more tuned in to suspicious activity or too inclined to be suspicious. I didn’t really pay any attention to the person. Maybe one of the girls has an admirer.”
“I don’t think that’s it. The youngest one is getting married soon, and the other sister lives in New York and is just here for a visit and the wedding.” My instincts were on high alert, so I filed the incident away in the back of my mind, knowing that I would be on the lookout for anything else that didn’t seem right around the house next door and its occupants.
After meeting with Joe, it was time to pick up Caleb from school. He’s in the third grade, and the school would be emptying in the next twenty minutes for the summer.
The drive to Caleb’s school was a blur, my thoughts consumed by the person in the hoodie. Seeing Caleb, with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a bright smile to greet me, grounded me in the present.
“Hey, buddy,” I greeted him, ruffling his hair as he climbed into the car. “How was your last day at school?”
“We mostly just played games today, dad. It was so much fun.”
Caleb’s excitement was infectious, his chatter about school and friends filling the car as we made our way home. Tomorrow morning, he would be on a flight to visit his mother’s parents. The visit to his maternal grandparents, something he did a few times a year, was always a bittersweet affair. It was a connection to his mother, my late wife, who we’d lost too soon. The trips were a reminder of her, of the life we’d shared, and the gaping hole her absence had left in our lives.
Tonight was our last evening together for a few weeks, and I was on dad duty until tomorrow morning.
“So, when we get home, I’ll help you with your homework and—”
I didn’t expect to get far with the joke. It was interrupted with a shout, “Daaaad, it’s summer vacation now. I don’t have any homework!”
“Oh my goodness, what will we do then? I guess we’ll have to play a game or something. Well, that’s too bad. I know how much you love doing homework.”
Our conversation drifted into game choices for the evening, a dinner menu, and a discussion of his trip the next day to visit Grandma and Grandpa Norris. Our evening together went as planned and included packing a suitcase after dinner for the trip. Then it was bathtime, followed by bedtime and then story time. Caleb could read his own books perfectly well now, but story time was a tradition that neither of us were willing to forego just yet.
The next morning after breakfast and a goodbye hug from Anna, who would be going on vacation for the time that Caleb was out of town, we were soon on the way to the airport.
As I navigated the traffic, Caleb’s innocent joy at the prospect of seeing his grandparents contrasted sharply with the complex web of emotions the trip evoked in me. It was a reminder of the past, of loss and love, and the uncertain path that lay ahead.
After parking in the airport garage, I walked Caleb to the airline counter where we met with the escort providing the Unaccompanied Minor service that I had arranged for with the airline. This was the first half of the service. The second half involved an escort accompanying him to meet his grandparents after the flight landed. I hugged him goodbye and was pleased to see his excitement for the visit undimmed by the journey ahead.
Driving back home, my thoughts were a tangled web of missing Caleb already, Sophie, the new house renovation, Sophie, and the person in the hoodie that seemed to be stalking her house.