We have been searching for our perfect dream house for almost a year. It’s a tight real estate market. The interest rate is low at 2.6, and every house that comes up for sale is snapped up in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. That’s a weird expression, isn’t it? I guess it means that it happens quickly, but still a weird comparison.

We find a house on a real estate website, and by the time we contact the realtor, it has already been sold. Or the realtor contacts us, and we go to see a house, and it is a total do-over or, in some cases, knock it down and start over from scratch.

I was on my way to work when I had to take a detour from my regular route because of a car accident. It was really off the beaten path. As I drive down the road, I notice that there’s a For Sale sign on the house to my right. It was a three-story Georgian Colonial House. Perfect, I think to myself. I pull over to the side of the road and call my realtor. Strike while the iron is hot and all that. Her answer machine picks up, so I leave her a message. “Hello Stella, this is Karen Wilcox. I just found a house that’s for sale on my way to work. I’m going to text you the address. Could you please, please check it out. If it’s anywhere near our price point, would you set up an appointment for James and me to see it asap? Thanks, so much. Karen.

I text her the address and the name of the realtor and realty company that listed it. I’m really stoked. I pray that no one will buy it from under us. I’m afraid to get my hopes up again only to have them dashed. And then I recall my mother’s old saying, To live without hope is to cease to live. So, I’m going to keep my fingers crossed until I hear from Stella.

I have a busy day at work and don’t even have time to check my personal texts or emails. And I didn’t even think about the house I saw for sale until I was on my way home. And I realize that I didn’t have to take the detour that I took that morning. When I saw that house, I want it so badly.

As I pull into our apartment complex’s parking lot, I‘m again reminded of how much I want to have my own house, driveway, and yard with a garden. We’ve been living in this apartment for almost ten years. I cannot even think about living here another five years. I pull into my parking space and turn off the car and grab my purse and briefcase.

Today is one of the days that I have to cook. I am trying to think of what I can cook for dinner. I climb up the three flights to our apartment and unlock the door. I can hear Bowtie, our Tuxedo cat purring on the other side of the door. I open the door, and he rubs against my legs.

“Hi Bowtie, hi Bowtie. Come on, let’s go in, and I’ll get you something to eat.” I pull off my jacket and hang it in the coat closet. I drop my briefcase on the desk and sigh, knowing I have at least two hours of work to do tonight after I cook dinner. I regret I didn’t put something in the crockpot to cook before I left this morning.

I have about forty-five minutes before James gets home. And then another half hour because he likes to decompress for about a half-hour before dinner. So, I have time to put some brown rice in the rice cooker with some veggies. And I can defrost some fish fillets and bread and cook them in the toaster oven. I start the rice cooker and go in and take a quick shower.

What a long day it has been. It feels like days ago since I left for work. And that reminds me of the house I saw for sale this morning. After I jump out of the shower, I check my text messages and, sure enough, I heard from Stella. She set up an appointment for first thing Saturday morning for us to view the Georgian House. God, I hope it doesn’t get sold before Saturday. That’s how cutthroat this market is.

James arrives home; he looks exhausted. His job is an hour away, and he has to drive through a great deal of traffic on an expressway to get to and from work. I think that is what bothers him the most. I have to admit that the driving won’t get any better if we live in the suburbs. But at least he’ll be coming home to our own home and not a one-bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchen and one bathroom.

If we live in a neighborhood, we could go out for a walk when the weather is nice and see people and families, not just people jumping in and out of their vehicles and dashing up to their apartments in a rush.

I call James into the dining room. The dining room is a table and two chairs next to the stairway. The door to our apartment is at the bottom of the steps. You wouldn’t believe how much we pay to rent this place and it isn’t even maintained. It hasn’t been painted or the carpets cleaned, let alone replace. I’m so over living here. The worst part is there isn’t even any green space, just a parking lot, nothing more.

After James takes a seat and I bring the dinner to the table, James says, “dinner looks, great honey. Thanks so much. Anything new at work today?”

“No same old, same old. I had to bring about two hours of work home with me. My deadline is tomorrow. Oh, but there is some good news. This will cheer you up. Today on the way to work, I had to take a detour off my regular route because they worked on the road. And guess what?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you just tell me? I don’t think I have the energy for any guessing games.”

“Oh wow, you are exhausted. I saw this beautiful house for sale, a Georgian Colonial house. And I contacted our realtor, and it’s still for sale. And we have an appointment to meet her there on Saturday at ten 0’clock. Can you believe it?”

“Really, you’re not just yanking my chain, are you?”
“No, of course not. It is a two-story brick house. Beautiful windows, great entranceway. It has a small garden in the front with a brick wall on the property line. I couldn’t find it on the internet, so I don’t know what the inside of the house looks like. But by the size of the house at least three bedrooms, two baths. Can you believe it?”

“No, it’s hard to believe; I hate to get my hopes up and then be disappointed again. But I will try to remain optimistic.”

“Me too. I can’t wait to see it. I know I will love it. I just have this feeling that this is going to be our house.”

“Almost too good to be true, but I will keep my fingers, and my toes crossed if that will help. After all these months, it didn’t seem like it would happen.

“Oh, I almost forgot there are several chimneys, so I’m certain it has at least two, maybe more fireplaces. Can you imagine us sitting in the living room on a cold, winter’s night roasting marshmallows or making popcorn over the fireplace?”

“It sounds like heaven. What was the neighborhood like?”

“You know James; I didn’t even look at the neighborhood. I was so enthralled by the house. And that it’s perfect and in our price range. Can you believe it?”

“It’s hard to believe Karen; I can’t wait to see it either. Let’s think positive thoughts.”

It was an unbelievably busy and stressful week at work. I’m so looking forward to seeing the house on Saturday. I’ve had my fingers crossed for so long I can hardly move them. I haven’t heard from our realtor, and I take that as a good sign. But somewhere in the back of my mind,  I have this fear that the house must have some fatal flaw, or it would have sold long ago. I know I’m pessimistic. It’s hard not to be. We have been disappointed so many times.

On the short drive to see the house, I talk non-stop about nothing just to keep myself distracted from thinking the worse, that we will drive up and see an Under Contract sign. Or that Stella will call at the last moment and cancel. But none of that happens, and James and I arrive in front of the Georgian property without incident. I scan the whole front yard and don’t see a Sold or Under Contract sign, and I sigh in relief.

James puts the parking brake on but leaves the heat running because Stella hasn’t arrived yet. Just as I’m thinking, Where’s Stella? Where’s Stella? She pulls up behind us. She gets out of her car at the same time as we do. “Good morning, Karen and James; how are you two on this fine day?”

We laugh because this is the same thing. Stella says every time we see her. If there were a snow blizzard, she would say the same thing. She is an optimistic person. Probably one of the things I love about her the most. “We’re fine, Stella, we are really excited about seeing the house. Did you find out any information about it or its owners?”

“Well, I can tell you this the owners were elderly and passed away within two months of each other, and the house has been empty for over a year. The realtor I spoke to said it’s a beautiful house, well-maintained with no real problems. But for some unknown reason, no one has made an offer on it. Shall we go inside, or do you want to take a walk around the property first?”

“Let’s go inside first, shall we. I’m so excited about seeing it. I couldn’t sleep all night.”

“Alright, let’s do that. Oh, one other thing. When the owners passed away, there were no living relatives nearby to clean out the house. So, whoever purchases the house can keep all the furniture or sell it if that’s what they choose to do. But I imagine that the house needs to be cleaned from top to bottom since it has been empty. Let’s go in, shall we?”

“Do you have any idea why the house hasn’t been sold? Does it need a new roof or some other expensive repair done?”

“Not that I have heard from the realtor I spoke to. But if you decide to make a bid on it, it would certainly make sense to have an inspector come and look over the entire property from top to bottom. It would be well worth the expense, Karen. I can give the name of someone I worked with before; however, if you know someone, that’s fine. Let’s go, shall we?”

As we walk toward the house, I fell more in love with it. The outside of the house is pristine, aside from the fact that the grass hadn’t been cut in a long time. And the landscaping is overgrown. As we step up onto the front porch, Stella punches the key code into the lockbox and pushes the door open.

It has a large entryway in ceramic tile. I can see that underneath the dust and dirt is a work of art. “Wow, look at this floor; it must be the original flooring. Magnificent.” To the right of the entryway is the living room with Victorian furniture and a brick fireplace. And beyond that are double doors into a dining room that looks like it could seat ten people. I walk through the double doors, and I can see that the furniture is antique. It wasn’t in pristine shape but still wonderful. The upholstered cushions on the chairs will need to be replaced. The china cabinet still had china inside of it.

Beyond the kitchen is a door. I step through it, and there is a small pantry and a kitchen. The kitchen has appliances that appear to be from the 1950s. They will have to be replaced as well. But still, it was charming and welcoming. “Oh, James, come look at the kitchen.”

As I look at the kitchen, I glanced out the back door windows. I noticed that the backyard is small, but there is a large two-car garage and a small pond with a waterfall. I think to myself, good less yard work to do. “Hey James, there’s a two-car garage and a small pond out here.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, come have a look. Let’s go outside and see if there are any fish in there.”

As James comes into the kitchen, he looks all around and says, “will you look at this kitchen. It feels like we just stepped into the 1950s; everything is hot pink and turquoise. And look at this stove, a double oven above the stovetop, and you have to pull out the range. It’s hidden. Wow, can you believe it? I wonder if it still works. The electricity is turned on.

We step out the back door and realize that the back steps are a death trap. Every time we took a step, the bricks would move under our feet and fall to the step below. “Woah, we better look back here after we are through looking at the rest of the house. These steps aren’t safe to walk on.”

We walk back through the kitchen and the living room and up the stairs to the second floor. There are three large bedrooms up there and two full baths. As we came down the steps, we stand in the living room and look around. “you know James, I would want to buy this house for the living room alone. The beautiful fireplace, the built-in bookshelves, the walk-in closet, and all this awesome antique furniture.”

“Me, too, but still. I think we have to get an engineer here to look the place over. And make sure there aren’t any major repairs that have to be made that we don’t have the money to repair or replace.

“Karen, let’s take a look around the grounds and then, on the way home talking about whether we want to make an offer. We can tell Sheila the offer is contingent on what the engineer says about the house, of course.”

“I agree, James. This is going to be our house. I know it is. I’m in love with it already.”

“I have to admit I love it too, Karen.”

The engineer comes two days later and inspects the property from the roof all the way down to the basement. There are some minor repairs but no big issues. Our realtor, Sheila, made our offer, and the sellers accept it almost immediately. We are somewhat surprised that they didn’t make a counteroffer. But, didn’t think about it too much. I want that house so badly. When I receive the call from Sheila, I immediately call James and give him the good news.

A month to the day after we made our offer, we went to settlement. We go out to lunch to celebrate the purchase of our first home. The engineer found no immediate problems. The basement is dry; however, they did mention that the roof would probably have to be replaced in the next ten years or so. We decide that by then, we would have replenished our savings and be able to afford it. Plus, we both expected pay increases in the next year.

After lunch, about ten minutes after we arrive at our new house, our movers arrived with our belongings. I was busy cleaning and know I would be busy cleaning for the next week or so. All the floors were the original hardwood and hadn’t be cleaned or waxed in a decade. We worked all that day and were just finishing up when the doorbell rings.

I see the top of the heads of several people in the windows on the front door. And I thought, who could that be? We don’t know anyone in the neighborhood yet. I yelled up the steps.” I’ll get it, James. I run my fingers through my hair and hope I don’t have any dirt or cobwebs on my face. I put a smile on my face and pull open the front door. I’m about to say, Hello, how are you when I saw my new neighbors standing there. There was a middle-aged woman, a teenage girl, and a middle-aged fit-looking man.

I open the door and stand there transfixed by surprise, unable to utter a single word. Because standing before me are three people completely nude, naked, without any clothing of any sort, naked as Jaybirds, naked as the day they were born.

They smiled in unison and said, “Hello.”, and then the woman says, “we’re the Henderson Family. We live two houses down on this side of the street. We just wanted to be the first people to welcome you to our neighborhood. We were so afraid no one was going to buy this beautiful home. We knew it would be hard to sell because of our community’s nature, but we didn’t think it would take as long as it did.

She reaches out her hand to shake mine. I hesitate for a moment since I had never shaken a naked woman’s hand before. “Hello, and thank you. What may I ask is the nature of the community?”

She looks at me as if I must have lost my mind or something. And she says, “Well, of course, I was referring to the fact that we are Naturalist, or perhaps nudist is a term you would recognize?”

My husband and I look at each other with our mouths open and then snap them shut. We look at them. Both of us keep our eyes averted. And the woman says, “Harry, I don’t think they knew.” And they all burst out laughing. And then she says, but don’t worry, it’s not a requirement. We are open-minded, you don’t have to participate, but you have to accept and not judge our community standards. As we will be about your lifestyle.”
I look at James, and he looks at me, and he says, “of course, we knew. Thank you all for coming by. We appreciated your warm welcome, and then he takes a step backward.

I suppose he’s fearful that they might start hugging us. I did the same.

Then the woman who was doing all the talking says, “oh, forgetful me. I forgot to introduce ourselves. I’m Jillian, and this is my husband, William, and my daughter, Sandy. We’re so looking forward to getting to know you all. Oh, I brought you a basket of fruit as a welcome. I hope you like tropical fruit.”

“Oh, we do, thanks again. And I forgot to introduce ourselves as well; I’m Karen, and this is my husband, James Conway, and down there at your feet is our cat, Bowtie, she’s very friendly. We hope to see more of you all in the future.” And that’s when I started laughing and couldn’t stop myself. Talk about putting your foot in your mouth. They all started laughing and then so did we. They thanked us and went on their way. We backed into our front door and sat down on the floor. “Well, that was a surprise,” says James. And we laugh until we ran out of breath.

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