17. Banks
17
BANKS
“Damn!”
I’d left some notes I’d printed out for today’s meeting at Reg’s place yesterday. Not that I couldn’t print them out again here at the office, but I’d scribbled notes in the margins.
We’d been going back and forth between each other’s places, and while we both had clothes and toiletries at each apartment, neither mine nor his was ours, and we’d been talking about moving in together.
“Can we afford it?” We were at my place as it was Reg’s day off, and he’d pulled up a shifter realtor’s site. Giving up my apartment wouldn’t bother me. It didn’t hold any special memories, and I wanted to live with my mate.
But I didn’t want Reg to agree to finding a together home when all of his available cash had been put into the restaurant.
“You mean me?” He didn’t look up from the laptop. “Yes, we can. The restaurant has been profitable for quite a while, and I’ve invested well.”
He’d mentioned wanting to, but this was the first that I’d heard that he’d actually done it.
“This is exciting.” I snuggled beside him as we scrolled through houses with tiny yards.
We’d agreed we wanted a family, including pets, so an apartment wasn’t suitable. But the places we could afford in town were so close to their neighbors and had a tiny strip of grass front and back.
“What if we looked a little further out?” Reg’s finger was moving over a button on the website.
“It’s fine, but I’d prefer nothing more than a thirty-minute commute.” That was asking a lot, but if we bought a house outside town and we spent hours in traffic, we’d resent the purchase and maybe each other. Plus the time we could have spent together would be sitting in our cars, checking our watches, and complaining we were going to be late.
And it’d be worse for Reg. I could work from home a couple of days a week, though with his newly hired assistant manager, perhaps he could work a four-day week.
We decided to make a list of everything we wanted in a home.
“Three bedrooms.” Reg tapped on the keyboard.
“Make that four.” My reasoning was if we had two kids, there’d be no room for guests. “Or three bedrooms and a den.”
By the end of the night, my vision was blurred from looking at and rejecting so many houses. One of my must-haves was a huge swing in the back yard and a hammock.
“Our dog will love it.”
Reg clicked his tongue. “The one we don’t have yet.”
My mate wasn’t sold on having a pet, saying we’d be out of the house most of the day and the dog would be alone. But with a large back yard and a porch, I figured a four-legged friend would be plenty occupied sleeping, eating, and sniffing.
Over the next few days, we looked at more sites and made a short list of homes we wanted to inspect. But getting a day when we were both free wasn’t easy, and when we finally coordinated, some of the houses were off the market.
Reg’s shifter friend sent us links for other houses, and we spent the next Sunday traipsing from one place to another.
“The kitchen is so small. It’s not big enough for two people.” I couldn’t imagine having two adults, two children, and a dog in that space. Yes, I was thinking ahead and dreaming of us as a family.
We crossed that place off the list.
“Do you smell something?” Reg put his head close to mine as we stuck our head into an ensuite bathroom. “I want to gag.”
There was a whiff of a yucky smell, but as a shifter’s senses were more powerful than a human’s, my mate couldn’t cope with the stink. He said his wolf would refuse to live in that house.
A third place had spots of black mold on the ceiling, and we turned on our heels and walked out.
We drove up to the last place and took one look at the house with the rotting porch and broken gate. Reg and I shared a glance and he kept on driving. We weren’t looking for a fixer-upper. That house would be perfect for a couple who wanted to do the renovations themselves or had the money to pay for contractors.
Neither Reg nor I were those people.
“Does the house of our dreams exist only in our imagination?”
We were preparing dinner. I was so down, having expected that we’d find the perfect place, snatch it up under the nose of another potential buyer, and live happily ever after.
Reg poured me a glass of wine and told me to sit.
“From everything I’ve heard and read, it can take years.”
“What if we never find our home?” I couldn’t see the future if we didn’t create a place that was truly ours.
“Dreams can be adjusted and swerved in another direction. We could buy a large apartment.” Reg kissed the top of my head. “But as long as we’re together, I don’t mind. We could live in a tent.”
I made a face cause I hated camping and peeing outside, but as a shifter, Reg’s wolf was happy to sleep on the ground or a floor.
“Not a tent, love.”
My mate chortled. “Fine. Wherever we are, there must be a bed.”
“And a toilet.” I wasn’t pooping in the woods.
“I’d add a shower to the list.”
“And preferably a kitchen,” I added.
“Let’s toast to our new home that has a bed, bathroom, and kitchen.”
We clinked glasses, and Reg resumed making dinner. His phone dinged, and he ignored it, saying it was his day off.
I didn’t understand how he could ignore a message. What if there was a disaster at the restaurant or something had happened to the pack?
And when he did read it, he grimaced. “It’s Rory. Says he’s got more houses for us to look at.”
I was torn between wanting to find the perfect home and not wanting to be disappointed.
“Do we inspect them?”