When we first met Mr. Prestan I knew I liked him. For a man in his fifties, he was quick on his feet. I learned that when we toured our first house. Even though I was on the short side, he was taller than the average man. He judged some doors before walking under them. I had to stifle a giggle a few times. He had certain humor about the him. He reminded me of my brother, really. Mr. Prestan had a small mustache and beard, and a bald head. And today when we walked in he greeted us with a kindness that can't often be found these days.
"Please take a seat." said Mr. Prestan, after warm handshakes. "I understand you decided on another house?" He said, in more of question than a statement.
"Yes," I said. "Actually, I like this one better than the last one."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah, I agree. Hazel and I like this one better also," declared Shiloh, "With all the room and bathrooms."
"Hmhmm." Mr. Prestan said. "Well, let's get down to business. Shall we?" He got the papers out of his desk drawer. We spent the next half-hour in his office discussing price and ownership. I don't think I followed all of it. I was dreaming/worrying. Dreaming, because this is my dream, naturally. Worrying, because our last pick didn't turn out so well. Mr. Prestan let us in the building the second time, after our appointment was set for the Realtors and we were ready to buy. Shiloh and Hazel were upstairs, deciding what color the walls should be and how furniture should be rearranged. It came with the furnishings, so their problem was that- "We need to give it our essence, our touch." I just nodded my head. I was downstairs waiting for them. It was their idea to go there. I took another tour myself of the downstairs rooms. When you walk in the house, you enter a little hallway. On either side is a room, a fireplace in each. The one on the right side has a kitchen with it, making the one on the left side look bigger. I just turned a corner when Mr. Prestan hung up from his cellphone. He looked nervous as he smoothed out his beard.
"What?" I asked. He jumped as he turned to look at me. "Oh! You startled me. Um, that was the office."
"What about?"
"They called to say that another family bought the house we're standing in." That hit me. I told my sisters and we left the house. But the house we were in the office for today was a far better choice.
"Thank you very much," said Shiloh, as we stood up to go. "You've been a great help."
"I should think so, no one else would've tolerated you girls." Girls? I thought. I have nieces that age. Shiloh and I walked out to the car after a nod goodbye from the attendant.
"Oh my gosh," I whispered. My dream was coming true. "Shiloh, you're driving."
"Yeah, after nearly missing that turn, better for me to drive." I was sure that I, being my dreamy self at the moment, didn't want an accident. But I only let Shiloh drive when it's absolutely needed. Let's just say that she didn't have much talent when it came to cars. She was fine enough for the short drive back to the apartment my sisters and I share. So with her at the wheel, I dared to gaze out the window and watched the drops of water land on the glass, while thanking God for his blessings.
Back at the apartment I sacked into a kitchen chair. It was a simple place that could be called home for a short time. With just two bedrooms we didn't actually have luxury. The walls were an interesting shade of blue, with one small, green bathroom, and a decent-sized, red kitchen. All the excitement of the day left me feeling worn. I checked the stove clock. Shiloh and Hazel will want their food ready when they get home. The word "home" sent my happiness gauge out of control. I jumped up, my energy back and did a little dance around the table. I changed into a T-shirt and jeans, then started supper. "I should have urged Shiloh to stay here while I picked up Hazel," I thought, while I fried the burger for spaghetti. Oh well, she wouldn't let me drive anyway. I seldom let her. Outside the weather changed from a shower to a relentless storm. The rain hit against the windows, lightening flashed, and thunder roared. When I set the table, I started to worry. They should have been back half-an-hour ago. As I watched for them I saw a soft light penetrate the pelting rain. I prayed my relief. Opening the door, the top of my T-shirt was soaked in seconds. By the time my sisters were safe in the house I was soaked head to toe. We changed, served our plates, and sat at the table for some lively conversation, regarding our day.
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