Chapter Twenty-Five #3
I walked back inside. “We’re leaving,” I announced.
“But I haven’t checked all the cabinets yet,” Quinton protested.
“We’re leaving, anyway.”
House Five: Sunday, 12:30 PM
“This one is close,” Nathan said.
We were in a craftsman-style house with built-in bookshelves and hardwood floors.
“Close to what?” I asked.
“Close to right. The energy is better. Warmer. But something’s still off.”
“What’s off?”
“I don’t know. It’s like... it’s almost there, but not quite.”
I looked around the house. It was nice. Really nice. Good bones, good layout, good neighborhood. But Nathan was right. Something was off.
And I couldn’t explain what.
Am I actually feeling vibes? Is this happening?
Have I been infected with spiritual awareness?
My eye twitched.
“Julien,” Vivian said. “You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing where you spiral internally and your face goes through seventeen different expressions in three seconds.”
“I’m not spiraling.”
“You’re absolutely spiraling.”
“I’m assessing.”
“You’re panicking.”
“Same thing.”
Gabriel was in the living room, his hands moving about in slow circles.
“Gabriel, what are you doing now?”
“Feeling the energy vortex.”
“The what?”
“Every house has an energy vortex. A central point where the spiritual flow converges.”
“That’s not a real thing.”
“It’s absolutely a real thing. Athena told me about it.”
“Athena tells you a lot of things.”
“And I listen. Because I’m open to the mysteries of the universe.”
“I’m open to the mystery of finding a house before my wife gives birth to triplets.”
“Those mysteries are related,” he said sagely.
“They’re absolutely not.”
Quinton emerged from the kitchen. “I’ve checked all the cabinets.”
“And?”
“Mixed vibes. Some good, some neutral, one distinctly negative.”
“You can’t assess vibes from cabinets.”
“I just did.”
“That’s not—” I stopped. Took a breath. “We have one more house.”
“One more chance to find good vibes,” Hayden said.
“The universe better deliver,” I muttered.
“The universe,” Vivian said, “is probably laughing at you right now.”
“I know.”
House Six: Sunday, 3:00 PM
“Last one,” the real estate agent said, sounding as exhausted as I felt. This was a new agent. The previous one had quit after House Four.
We pulled up to a Cape Cod-style house with blue shutters and a small front garden. It was smaller than the others. Older. Needed some work. But something about it felt... different.
“Oh,” Nathan said softly.
“Oh?” I repeated. “Good oh or bad oh?”
“Good oh.” He was staring at the house with an expression I’d never seen before. “Julien, this one feels right.”
“Right how?”
“Just... right. Can we go inside?”
The agent unlocked the door.
We stepped into the foyer, and I felt it.
I actually felt it. Not vibes, exactly. Not spiritual energy, or cosmic resonance, or whatever Athena would call it. But something.
Warmth. Welcome. A sense of... home.
“The living room is to your right,” the agent said. “Kitchen straight ahead. Three bedrooms upstairs, and there’s a finished attic that could be converted to a fourth bedroom or office—”
Oh no.
Oh no, I’m feeling vibes.
This is it. This is how it ends. I’ve been converted.
But I wasn’t listening. I was walking through the house, my hand trailing along the walls, feeling the space. It was smaller than I’d planned. The kitchen needed updating. The backyard was modest. But it felt right.
“Julien,” Vivian said quietly. “Your eye stopped twitching.”
I touched my face.
She was right.
“Call Athena,” Nathan said.
“Both eyes,” she added. “Completely still.”
“That’s impossible.”
“And yet.”
Nathan was walking through the rooms with a smile on his face. “This is it. This is definitely it.”
“The energy is perfect,” Gabriel said.
“The cabinets have excellent vibes,” Quinton added.
“You checked the cabinets already?”
“First thing I did.”
“It’s been thirty seconds.”
“I’m efficient.”
Hayden was in the backyard, but this time he was just standing there normally, looking peaceful.
“What do you think?” I called to him.
“I think,” he said, “that this house wants you here.”
“Houses don’t want things.”
“This one does.”
And the terrifying thing was—I believed him.
I pulled out my phone and switched to video call.
She answered immediately. “Did you find it?”
“Maybe,” I said, turning the camera to show her the living room. “What do you think?”
She was quiet for a moment, studying the screen. Then she smiled. That smile that meant the universe had spoken. “That’s our house!” she squealed.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Can’t you feel it?”
And the thing was—the absolutely terrifying, universe-mocking thing was—I could.
I could feel it.
“The kitchen needs updating,” I said.
“We can update it.”
“The backyard is small.”
“Big enough for three kids.”
“The attic conversion will be expensive.”
“We’ll manage.”
“There’s wallpaper in the master bedroom that appears to be from 1987.”
“We’ll remove it.”
“The front steps are cracked.”
“We’ll fix them.”
“The—”
“Julien,” she said gently. “Do you like the house?”
I looked around—at the worn hardwood floors and the outdated fixtures, and the wallpaper that definitely needed to go.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t even close to perfect.
But it felt... right.
“Okay,” I said. “This is our house.”
“I like the house.”
“Then it’s our house.”
“Really?” Her voice was full of joy.
“Really.”
“I told you the universe would provide.”
“The universe,” I said, “is still a menace. But occasionally, very occasionally, it gets something right.”
Behind me, I heard Hayden say, “Did he just admit the universe was right?”
“I think he did,” Fitz said.
“Someone mark this day,” Quinton added. “Julien Darcy acknowledged that not everything can be controlled.”
“I can still hear you,” I called.
“We know!” they said in unison.
I looked at my colleagues, at my sister, at this imperfect house that somehow felt exactly right.
The universe had tested me.
Again.
And this time, I’d learned something.
Some things couldn’t be spreadsheet-managed.
Some things couldn’t be organized or controlled or planned.
Some things—like vibes, like love, like the chaotic, beautiful mess of life with Athena—just had to be felt.
“So,” Nathan said, walking into the kitchen. “When do we start renovations?”
“We?” I repeated.
“You think we’re letting you do this alone? After we spent an entire weekend learning about vibes?”
“We’re invested now,” Gabriel said.
“Emotionally invested,” Quinton added.
“And spiritually invested,” Hayden said. “I communed with this house’s energy. We’re bonded now.”
“And we have a new betting pool,” Fitz said.
“Of course you do,” I muttered.
“Current odds are on how long before you create a renovation spreadsheet.”
I pulled out my phone. Opened my spreadsheet app. “I’m creating it right now,” I said as I started typing.
“CALLED IT!” Fitz shouted. “Pay up, everyone!”
“You bet against me again?” I asked.
“I had faith you’d wait until we left the house,” Nathan said.
“Misplaced faith,” Vivian observed.
“Clearly.” But I was smiling.
“I had you waiting until we were in the car,” Winnie said.
“I had him waiting until tomorrow,” Gabriel said.
“I had him creating it before we even found a house,” Hayden said. “I win.”
“You can’t win if you bet on something that already happened,” Quinton protested.
“I bet on it last week.”
“That’s not how betting works.”
“It is now.”
I ignored them all and continued typing.
Renovation Timeline - 123 Maple Street
Phase One: Structural Assessment
Phase Two: Kitchen Renovation
Phase Three: Bathroom Updates
Phase Four: Nursery Preparation
Phase Five: Attic Conversion
Phase Six: Exterior Repairs
Estimated Completion: Before Baby Arrival (CRITICAL)
“He’s color-coding the phases,” Vivian observed, looking over my shoulder.
“Of course he is,” Nathan said.
“And he’s added a Gantt chart,” Winnie added.
“What’s a Gantt chart?” Quinton asked.
“A timeline visualization tool,” I said, not looking up.
“He’s also added a risk assessment matrix,” Gabriel said.
“And a contingency plan,” Hayden added.
“And a backup contingency plan,” Fitz said.
“And a backup backup contingency plan,” Vivian finished.
“Proper planning prevents piss-poor performance,” I said.
“That’s a lot of P’s,” Quinton observed.
“It’s a principle.”
“It’s an obsession.”
“Same thing.”
Because I had a house.
A house with good vibes.
A house that felt like home and a support system of people who would mock me relentlessly while helping me renovate it.
A house that, according to Nathan, had been waiting for me.
The universe had won this round, but I was okay with that, because sometimes surrendering to chaos led to exactly where you needed to be. Even if I needed a spreadsheet to get there.
And a team of colleagues who believed in cabinet vibes.
And a sister who documented your every breakdown.
And a wife who trusted the universe even when you didn’t.
“Julien?” Athena’s voice came from my phone, which I’d propped against the wall.
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Even though you’re already making spreadsheets?”
“Especially because I’m making spreadsheets.”
She laughed.
And in that moment, standing in our imperfect house with my ridiculous friends and my color-coded renovation plan, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Peace.
Or maybe it was just good vibes.
Either way, I’d take it.