Chapter 3 - The Broker
Thursday required timing.
Eric left at 7:20.
Madison had an ultrasound at 9:30.
Diane insisted on going because she believed doctors needed supervision.
By 9:15, they were gone.
I had less than three hours.
At 10:58, a black SUV stopped outside.
Rachel stepped out first.
Behind her came a woman in a navy coat carrying a leather folder.
“Claire,” Rachel said, hugging me. “This is Naomi Walsh.”
Naomi shook my hand.
“I understand discretion matters.”
“Very much.”
We walked through the house.
She noticed the crib.
The maternity pillows.
The photographs Diane had already placed on my living room shelves.
“Your family lives here?”
“My husband lives here.”
I pointed toward the nursery.
“They moved themselves in.”
Naomi gave Rachel a look.
Rachel said, “House remains Claire’s separate property.”
Naomi nodded.
“Understood.”
She moved quickly.
Measurements.
Photos.
Notes.
She recommended a private listing first.
“I have three buyers looking in this neighborhood. One is relocating from New York and wants to close fast.”
“How fast?”
“If the inspection is clean? Three weeks.”
My pulse jumped.
Three weeks.
I pictured Diane telling relatives I should learn to be useful.
“Do it.”
Naomi stopped writing.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
She studied me.
“Then we price for speed, not desperation.”
At 11:44, she finished photographing my office.
Rachel followed me downstairs.
“You need to think about occupancy.”
“Meaning?”
“When the sale closes, you’ll need Eric and his family out.”
“I know.”
“Your husband’s residency rights may complicate timing even without ownership.”
My stomach tightened.
“So he can stop the sale?”
“No. But possession and ownership aren’t the same legal issue. We give proper notice and handle everything cleanly.”
I nodded.
“No mistakes.”
“Exactly.”
At 12:07, Naomi’s SUV disappeared.
At 12:14, Diane’s car turned into the driveway.
Seven minutes.
I was still putting a chair back when the front door opened.
Madison entered first.
“Why is the chair moved?”
My heart punched once.
“Vacuuming.”
Diane looked around.
“You vacuumed?”
“Yes.”
She seemed suspicious that I had cleaned my own house.
Then Madison held up an ultrasound printout.
“It’s a girl.”
Despite everything, I smiled.
“Congratulations.”
Her expression softened for half a second.
Then Diane said, “We’re having the baby shower here.”
Not asking.
Announcing.
“When?”
“Three Saturdays from now.”
I almost smiled.
The expected closing window.
“How many people?”
“Maybe forty.”
“No.”
Diane’s face changed.
“Excuse me?”
“You can invite ten.”
“This is my granddaughter.”
“And this is my house.”
Madison rolled her eyes.
“You always make everything about you.”
I looked at her.
“You’re planning a forty-person party in my home without asking me.”
Eric came in early that afternoon.
By dinner, Diane had already told him.
He cornered me beside the sink.
“Why are you giving my mother trouble about the shower?”
“I offered ten guests.”
“She wants forty.”
“It’s not a wedding venue.”
“She’s trying to do something nice for Madison.”
“Then rent a room.”
His jaw tightened.
“You said you were done creating drama.”
I stared at him.
“I said okay.”
“What’s the difference?”
“A lot.”
His eyes narrowed.
Before he could answer, my phone buzzed.
Naomi.
I glanced at the screen.
We have an interested buyer. Cash. No financing contingency. Wants to see the house tomorrow.
Eric leaned toward me.
“Who is it?”
I locked the screen.
“Work.”
He stared at me for another moment.
Then he walked away.
May you like
I waited until he reached the stairs.
Tomorrow, someone was coming to decide whether to buy the house my husband still thought he controlled.
