Chapter 10
Jett
With two days left until I head to the airport to meet up with Team Loco, I am determined to find my family a rental house.
The girls fell asleep watching Christmas movies last night, even though it’s still a couple weeks until Halloween.
They love their Christmas movies, and by the time Christmas does roll around each year, I’ve already seen them watch Elf two dozen times.
While they slept, I was up on the computer.
I sent an email to Mark Avery, the real estate agent in town who seems to have more rental properties than anyone else.
He seems like he knows what he’s doing, which is evidenced by the fact that he calls me at eight in the morning the next day.
“Jett Adams,” he says after I answer the phone. “Are you any relation to Jace Adams, the famous dirt bike guy?”
I try not to snort out a laugh. If someone says ‘dirt bike guy’ they probably don’t know anything about this sport--just enough to know that my dad is someone famous in town.
“Yes, sir, that’s me.” Is it totally pathetic that I kind of want to tell him I also race professionally? At least occasionally? Jace Adams isn’t the only big deal around here.
Okay, maybe he is. But still!
I sneak out of the room to continue this phone call downstairs so I won’t wake up Harper or Keanna. Mom sits at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and scrolling on her phone. She smiles at me, but stops talking when she sees I’m on the phone.
“So what interests you in a rental house?” Mark asks. “Are you not wanting to stay in town long enough to buy?”
“No, I’m already a homeowner,” I say. “It’s just that my house burned to the ground.”
“Ahh, I did hear about a house fire in town. Sorry to hear that. It must be devastating.”
“It is,” I say, opening the back door and stepping out onto the porch.
The pool looks inviting even at this early hour, but I know well enough to know it’s way too cold for a swim.
“And it’s going to take months to get a new house rebuilt, so my wife and I are looking for a rental.
Maybe even a month-to-month contract, but we’re fine with signing a year lease if needed. ”
“Most rental houses around here require a two year lease,” he says. “The days of one year leases are long gone for homes. Apartments will do a one year.”
“Oh…that sucks. But yeah we’re not looking for an apartment. I found a few houses online. Do you think we can offer them more money to do a shorter lease?”
“Everything is negotiable,” Mark says with a confident chuckle. “I’m free today around noon if you want to take a look at the houses?”
“Perfect.” I tell him about the houses I had in mind and let him know we absolutely need something that allows dogs.
He texts me his cell number so we can coordinate the house visits.
It’s not exactly easy for both of us to take off work in the middle of a weekday, but my parents will have to pitch in until we’re back.
After ending the call, I head back inside to find Arko waiting for me at the back door. He was fast asleep with Harper when I got up, but he knows it’s breakfast time and he’s not about to miss out on that.
“Good boy,” I say, setting his food bowl down on the floor mat.
Keanna ventures down the stairs, still wearing her pink pajamas and her hair in a very messy bun on top of her head. “Morning.”
“Good news,” I say, kissing her forehead as she makes her way to the coffee pot. “I talked with a real estate agent today and we’re meeting him at noon to look at houses.”
Mom pokes her head in the kitchen from wherever she was a few minutes ago. “Houses?”
An anxious pit forms in my stomach. I don’t want her to feel like we’re abandoning her, but she has to realize it’s not fun staying at your parent’s house when you’re married. Like for example—they are around to hear your private conversations.
”Yeah…” I say, hoping the right words come to me. Mom’s face already looks a little hurt at the idea that we want to move out.
”It’s Arko,” Keanna says, swooping in to save me. “He really needs a big back yard, and he’s so messy and sheds so much fur, we just don’t want to overstay our welcome and make your home messy.”
Mom crinkles her brows. “Eh, Arko is fine. I don’t mind the mess.” She walks in the room and puts her arms around our shoulders. “But I support whatever you want to do.”
”Really?” I say. “We are so grateful that you’re letting us stay here, but we just feel like we need our own space.”
”I totally get it.” She smiles, and I can tell she’s sincere. “Six to nine months waiting on your house to be rebuilt is a long time. You guys do what you need to do and we will always be here if you need us.”
“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”
”I am the superior parent,” she says. Her eyes look off to the side and I realize Dad just walked in, so she’s teasing him.
”Um, I beg to differ,” Dad says. “I am the superior parent.”
”You’re both equal,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Come on, Babe, let’s go get dressed.”
Harper bounces in the backseat, fists excitedly pumping in the air as we drive to meet Mark at the first rental house on our list. It’s a small two bedroom home in an older neighborhood, but it’s in a cul-de-sac with a pretty big backyard for Arko.
I pull into the driveway next to a shiny new Lexus, which must belong to the real estate agent. He greets me with a firm handshake.
“Ready to look inside?” he asks.
”Yes!” Harper says loud enough for all of us.
The exact moment our feet step into this house we all know the answer: No way in hell. The whole place reeks. Like mold and mildew. We don’t even walk through the house to give it the benefit of the doubt. Nope, onto the next one.
The second house doesn’t have a bad smell to it, so that’s one thing going for it. But there’s only one bathroom which is so small it just has a pedestal sink. No cabinets, no countertops.
”We have way too much stuff for the three of us to share this tiny bathroom,” Keanna says.
Harper walks down the hall to the bedrooms and scrunches her nose. “I don’t like this place.”
Everything is dated and the carpet is filthy. The baseboards and doors are scratched and chewed up from the previous tenant's dogs.
“What does this place cost?” Keanna asks Mark.
He glances at his phone. “Looks like they’re asking for two thousand a month plus utilities. But the neighborhood has a shared swimming pool.”
“That’s way too much money,” she says. “I’m not feeling this one. What about you, babe?”
I shrug. I could live anywhere, but this home is just dumpy. My girls deserve better. “Let’s see house number three.”
The next house is about fifteen minutes away. I follow Mark in my truck, and Harper sings along to the radio. She doesn’t know the words but she happily makes them up.
Keanna sighs. “These houses have sucked. The first one actually looked cute in the photos online. I hope the next one is better.”
“We’ll find something,” I say, reaching over and squeezing her leg.
Harper says, “We need the blue house!”
”What blue house?” I ask, looking at her smiling face in my rearview mirror.
”The house I drew!” she says, rolling her eyes like I’m a big dummy for not instantly knowing what she was talking about.
”Ooh, your beautiful drawing,” I say, nodding. “I would love a house like that. What about you, Mommy?”
Keanna nods. “Harper is a great artist. Maybe she’ll grow up to be an architect.”
Harper makes a disgusted face. “No, I am going to be a singer and a dirt bike racer! And I will live in my blue house. Mommy and Daddy can live in it with me.”
”That’s very generous of you,” Keanna says, grinning at me.
Harper has not been allowed to ride a dirt bike yet, but she loves sitting in front of me while I putt around the grass on my bike.
I don’t know where the singer thing came from, but she does love watching musicals and making up the words to every melody she hears.
The third house is newer. Small, with two bedrooms, but it has two baths so it’s workable. We walk through the whole thing, not finding anything wrong with the house, and things are finally starting to feel more optimistic.
And then we open the back door.
The back yard—if you can even call it that—is only a foot deep and then it becomes a gravel parking lot, which is the back lot of a shopping center behind this neighborhood. There are no fences whatsoever, and the greasy smell of fast food hits you like a punch in the face.
“Oh my gosh,” Keanna drops her hand in front of Harper to prevent her from walking into the parking lot. “This is not a back yard?”
”Yeah, it’s pretty tight,” Mark says. “This land was empty for the longest time, and then some developer squeezed in a few houses back here.”
”They think this house is pet friendly?” I ask.
He nods. “Dogs are allowed with a small pet deposit.”
”But how are dogs supposed to play outside when there’s no yard?”
Mark sucks air in through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s a problem.”
I look at Keanna, waiting for her opinions.
“Nope,” she says. She looks at Mark. “What’s next?”
”Unfortunately you’ve seen every pet friendly rental in Lawson. Do you want to venture outside of this town?”
We both shake our heads. “We don’t want a long drive to work.”
”There are a few apartment complexes in town,” he suggests.
Keanna’s objecting look probably mirrors my own expression. “We don’t want an apartment. We need a good yard for our dog.”
“Understood,” he says. “I’ll keep my eyes open for anything and let you know the second something new pops up.”
”Please do,” Keanna says.
We head back home, the mood soured from our pathetic experience of looking at rental houses today. That’s the bad part of living in a small town. There isn’t much to choose from.
After dinner, Marcus calls me saying a couple motocross podcasts want me to hop on a Zoom call and record a short interview for them ahead of the race this weekend.
I ask my parents to watch Harper so she doesn’t yell out anything awkward or embarrassing while I’m recording, then I sit in my bed, webcam turned on, while I do the interviews.
Keanna sits at the foot of the bed, offscreen but watching me.
There’s an intensity in her gaze, and I’m not sure why.
She’s seen me do a hundred of these things.
When it’s over, I close my laptop and lay back on my bed, exhaling loudly. “I didn’t say anything stupid, did I?”
”No,” she says, crawling up the bed and positioning herself next to me, head on my chest.
“I tend to zone out during interviews. Like my body is talking, but my brain isn’t quite there. It’s nerve-wracking.”
”You’re good at it,” she says, snuggling closer. “I’m sad that you’re leaving tomorrow.”
”It’s only for three days.”
”Last time was…”
I wrap my arm around her. “That won’t happen again. My parents are here with you, and your parents are next door. Plus, you’ve got Arko and he’s a protector.”
”I know…I’m just scared of the idea that I’ll need you and you’ll be a several hour plane ride away from me.”
”I’m sorry, babe. I can cancel if you think that’s best?”
”No way. We need the money. You just better win the money.”
I chuckle. “I’ll do my best.”