15. Ned
NED
They’re not exactly late to the Realtor’s office, but they’re not early either, and Ned is very sure Abbot would have been here ten minutes ago.
Though had Abbot left on time in his own car, he wouldn’t have found Peggy’s cape, and Ned would still be on his stomach looking under the couch, searching behind the TV, and going through her backpack for any spot a discarded mess of dirty fabric could land.
It was by the recycling, for some reason Ned still can’t figure out. Abbot had plucked it from among discarded cardboard just as the bus pulled up.
“So this is Beverly’s wife?” Ned asks, trying to reorient from hustling Peggy out the door to whatever this is. Pretending he’s looking for a spot to move, apparently. “Do you know her?”
“No.”
Yep, great start to the day, them running late and Abbot shutting down into his I don’t want to talk about anything.
But it’s fine. Or it will be fine. Committed.
Ned is committed to getting this woman and Beverly and whoever else at Newbury to think whatever they need to about the two of them, and if he has to look at real estate listings to get that to happen, he can spend the morning doing exactly that.
He opens the door for Abbot and gives him a smile, so whatever committed looks like to this Realtor, it’s at least on his face as soon as they walk in.
He’s pretty sure committed really means putting aside a cup of tea and the newspaper to search for a cape, but this is fine too.
“Coffee?” the receptionist offers.
Ned takes the mug she hands him, sipping it as he looks at pictures and listings of houses displayed around the room.
If things had gone differently, maybe Ned would be looking at a house now. If he hadn’t had so much debt from college. Or had earned more all those years he was a student at Callahan. Or hadn’t bought a house already, and then lost it in a damn divorce.
Or if he was Abbot, who can actually look at property and not sweat it that Peggy came home from school yesterday chattering about how the cape club wants to go to summer camp.
Yeah. A trip to Europe and a week of sleepover camp, all without a job? No fucking way.
He takes another sip of too-weak coffee and tries not to look at the prices staring at him.
A door opens and a woman steps out to greet them.
“I’m Sandy, so nice to meet both of you.
Come in,” she says, her brown hair neatly curled and a smile on her face as she shakes their hands.
Her beige sweater and slightly darker pants look like they’re meant to match the blond wood and white of the decor, and when she leads them back to her office, it boasts a wide glass desk with two chairs in front of it that look more artsy than structural.
Ned sits as he takes in the elegant arc of a floor lamp and potted plant that fits just so under its curve. This is a nice office, in a nice neighborhood, and Sandy clearly sells nice properties. Ned eyes the papers on her desk, printed photos of kitchens and living spaces and…
And that’s a lot of zeros on that listing. He glances at Abbot, but if he’s struck by the number of digits, he’s at least hiding it better.
“So you’re Henry,” Sandy says with a warm smile. “Beverly told me all about you.”
Ned grabs for Abbot’s hand, trying to forestall any shrinking into himself. He can feel Abbot stiffen, and he cuts in before that coldness can find its way into Abbot’s words.
“What a small world,” Ned agrees. “Thank you so much for seeing us on short notice.”
“Of course, of course. I’m glad the timing worked out.”
“So are we, and so excited to start looking at properties.” It’s true enough, at least. He’s looking for any place he could possibly afford, which is nowhere, and Abbot is looking for real.
“We’ll get you set up somewhere great, I’m sure.” She taps at her computer. “Let’s start with the basics. I’m not sure how close to campus you’d like to be, but we have some very lovely neighborhoods right around Newbury.”
Ned mentally adds another zero to any listing she might show them. “Great.”
“And how many bedrooms?”
Easy. Ned squeezes Abbot’s hand. “Two. My daughter is with us half the time.”
Abbot squeezes back. “Though a guest room?”
Do they need a guest room? For Liesl, he’s sure Abbot means, but can’t she sleep in Peggy’s room?
Though—no, it doesn’t matter, because there is no Peggy’s room, because none of this is real.
“So three?” Sandy asks. “Bev has an office at home. Have you considered whether you’d like the same?”
“I have my office in the spare bedroom of my house now,” Abbot says.
“Three bedrooms,” Ned agrees. “Why not?”
Sandy taps at her computer. “Some of the older houses near Newbury have really interesting floor plans, so what might not work well as a bedroom can still make a wonderful nook for an office. Have you thought about whether you’re interested in something modern or more historical?”
Abbot glances over and Ned shrugs. Are they doing imaginary construction on their imaginary house?
Renovating this place they’re not going to buy?
It sounds like a pain, even in his mind, and as fun as this is to play pretend, their answers should probably carry at least some reality. “Anything newly updated,” Ned says.
“Yes, I’m sure you don’t need a big project, along with the move and new jobs,” Sandy says. “So if we say three bedrooms, that’s a primary, one for your daughter, and a guest room that can also work as an office. Will you two need room to grow from there?”
“Grow?” Ned asks.
She smiles, looking between them. “More children on the horizon?”
Oh. Abbot wants kids. He said that last year, but it’s on that someday list of things that’ll come later.
Like looking at houses.
Ned darts a glance at Abbot, then realizes Sandy is watching him. He ought to have an answer ready to go, apparently, but nobody told him he was going to take a pop quiz about his relationship this week.
“How about I show you some three and four bedrooms,” she says into the quiet. “And you can decide from there what feels like a good amount of space?”
“Perfect,” Ned says quickly, and this pretend budget is getting out of control damn quick, that’s for sure.
“Outdoor space? How old is your daughter, Ned? Will she want room to run around?”
“She’s six,” Ned says. “And I have a dog, so yes, a yard would be ideal.”
“Wonderful, and then if you have more littles, that’s great for them too,” she says.
Abbot shifts in his seat. “If it’s not too much to maintain.”
“I can do it,” Ned says. He does the yard at his parents’. Hell, he did it at Abbot’s last summer, too. And at his and Jen’s place, meticulously weeding the brick path to the front door.
That, and this yard doesn’t exist, and won’t, so it’s not like it’s an actual problem.
“We can add a garage to the wish list too, I’m sure,” Sandy says. “Somewhere for the lawnmower, right? And cars, what with this weather.”
“Great,” Ned says. Four bedrooms with a yard, a garage, and what else? Gold faucets and diamond windows? This will be a laugh, looking at this property they’re dreaming up.
“So let’s talk budget,” she says. “Now Ned, I know things are a bit up in the air for you. Will that affect financing?”
“I’d have to get a letter of employment for the bank,” he says slowly, trying to think.
He bought the house with Jen a good long while ago, and the process was complicated, so it’s hard to scrounge it up from memory.
“Either from Adams, which they may not take, frankly, or from Newbury.” This is like a chicken and a damn egg.
He needs to be looking for a place to get Newbury to consider him for a job, and he needs a job to be able to look for a place.
Figures that he’s walked himself into this maze.
“We can sort that out,” Sandy says. “Are either of you listing a property?”
“I’ll be selling my house in Portland,” Abbot says.
“Great market up there,” she says. “In terms of timing, are we looking for progress on that sale before placing a down payment here?”
A down payment. Ned thinks of his bank and imagines the polite humor on the face of a lender, looking between his balance and any amount he’d be asking for. This might all be fiction, but it has to be at least a little believable.
“Yes,” Ned says.
Abbot squeezes his hand. “No.”
“Yes and no?” Sandy asks with a smile, looking between them.
“I…” Ned starts. No? Is Abbot having fun with this farce?
He doesn’t look it. Ned sees none of the amused dance his eyes get when he’s joking, just his normal stoicism of talking to someone he doesn’t know.
“Hon.” Ned rubs his thumb over Abbot’s. If he’s going into some fantasy land, they might have gotten that straight before coming here this morning.
“It’d be ideal, perhaps,” Abbot says. “But not necessary, especially if we found the right property.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” Sandy’s keyboard clicks as she types. “Are we thinking financing at all, or no?”
“No; if I sold it first, I’d pay cash,” Abbot says.
Ned stares at him.
Sandy nods. “That really gives you some options in the Boston market, then,” she says like it’s all that simple. “What do you have in mind for a budget?”
“Ideally under three,” Abbot says.
Ned lets out a soft laugh. “Three hundred thousand?” That won’t buy much in Maine these days, let alone Boston.
Abbot glances at him. “Three million?”
“Right,” Ned says quickly. Three million. A second laugh sits high in his throat. Yeah. Okay. The hell? Ned wants to ask him. Three million dollars, in cash?
Too late, he remembers he shouldn’t have shock sitting on his face, because Sandy’s looking at him. “You two have discussed this?”
“Oh, absolutely.” Ned wants to let go of Abbot’s hand. His own feels suddenly clammy. “We’re good. So good.”
“So if we’re looking at a twenty percent down payment, we’d be in the range of about six hundred thousand?”
Sweat begins to gather on Ned’s back. Don’t look surprised, he coaches himself. Don’t look horrified or nauseous or anything other than delightfully happy about this future we’re very much on the same page about.
“That’s right,” Abbot says.
Ned’s stomach starts to churn.
“It really comes down to what you’re most interested in. Number of bedrooms? Location? If I have an idea of what’s important for both of you, I can get together a list of properties to look at in person.”
Ned can’t in good conscience waste this woman’s time, looking at houses he’ll never afford in his lifetime, landing a job at Newbury or not.
“Keeping the price down,” Ned says.
“Space for bedrooms,” Abbot says at the same time.
“Well, you two will have some time to talk before we see anything,” Sandy says, which is a very diplomatic Go figure your shit out, and Ned takes the comment with a forced smile. “Get a little closer on price, and exactly the square footage and size you both want.”
They both want? Ned slowly stands when she does. He just wants to move out of his parents’ someday. And Abbot?
Abbot’s helping him, Ned tries to remember. This is about Newbury and how very serious they are about each other. Proving they’re moving toward a shared future.
Beverly luckily never said they have to have figured out exactly what that looks like.