Souvenirs of Starling Falls

“Of course I’m attached to it. Aren’t you? After all, you’re the one who’s all upset about the grass being greener on the other side of the street.” I didn’t mean for that comment to be about Priscilla McGhee, but I instantly imagined her as soon as I said it and I knew Tom had, too. Not that either of us would acknowledge it. I sighed and added, “I’m perfectly content right here.”

“I guess I’m attached to this house too,” he relented.

“That’s better,” I said, “because you wouldn’t want to hurt our house’s feelings.” It sounded like a joke, but I got a yucky little shiver running down my spine after I said it.

“I just can’t believe that this house,” he whacked the sheet with his hand, “directly across from us, and bigger, is so much less than what we just paid. If their asking price is any indication,” he said, waving the sheet in my face again, “we wouldn’t get half of what we just paid if we tried to sell our house.”

“So then let’s stay here and relax.”

“I haven’t been relaxed since the day we moved in.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said.

“Thanks a lot. Maybe if I didn’t have anything to worry about except decorating, I’d be relaxed too.” He crumpled up the flier and threw it across the room. “I’ll be in my studio,” he said, heading up the stairs.

This happened on a Friday. The next day, for the first time ever, we noticed people at the house next door, on our side of the street, across our wide lawn, right across from the McGhees’ house, at 309 Hawthorne Avenue. These people loaded up a truckload of antiques, and then, the following Wednesday, a For Sale sign went up in that yard as well.

That evening, once it got dark outside and while Tom was busy in the kitchen, I ran over to the flier box and grabbed one out of it, so this time I’d be prepared. Once I saw what the flier said, I grabbed the whole stack of them, shoved them under my shirt, ran back home, and hid them all in one of the drawers we never used in the library.

“Maybe we don’t want to know the price,” I suggested to Tom the next morning over coffee.

“You’re right. I’m not even going to take a flier this time.”

“Good for you,” I told him.

That evening he looked it up online.

“No fucking way. Fuck me. Fuck me! This is unreal.”

“What’s up, Sweetie?” I asked sympathetically, since it was impossible to ignore him.

“Would you believe that they’re asking the same price for that one as they’re asking for the one across the street? And get this: It has eleven bedrooms. Not to mention, their lot is twice as big as ours. It’s over an acre.”

“Eleven,” I said, doing my best to look like I cared.

“I’m just going to read it to you: ‘First time ever on market! Grand mansion originally owned by Starling Falls founder Lawrence Covey and his wife Clara. This Richardson Romanesque home boasts eleven bedrooms, three staircases, formal dining, eat-in kitchen, and separate breakfast room. Original woodwork and light fixtures, seven functional wood-burning fireplaces, stained glass, built-ins galore, library with a hidden tunnel to the back parlor, and SO MUCH MORE. New roof 2006. New boiler and wiring 2007. Otherwise this home is untouched with all original features intact. A rare find, priced to sell!’”

“Wow,” I said. Admittedly, it made me sick to hear all that.

“So basically,” he said, “anything you’d want updated is updated, and everything you’d want left alone is left alone. For way less than what we just paid for this hunk of shit. Can you believe it?”

“Maybe it doesn’t have a dumbwaiter,” I said.

“That’s funny. I’m glad you see some humor in this.”

“What are we supposed to do?” I asked him. “So it’s cheaper than what we paid. We got a good deal that you were pretty happy with, originally. Haven’t you ever heard that comparison is the thief of joy? I saw that on someone’s MySpace page and it’s so true.”

“Shut up, Courtney.”

“You used to be nice. I hate this new you.”

“I’m pissed off is all.”

“Don’t take it out on me. This is the way real estate works. It’s a gamble. There’s nothing we can do about it. Let’s not look back.”

“You were in such a hurry to pick something. Just think: If we had waited a couple of months, we’d have saved all this money and gotten a better house.”

“You can’t seriously be upset with me about this. We both picked this place. If you had doubts you should have said something before we bought it.”