Page 38 of Bottle Shock
“Well,” he says, eyeing the line of cars. “Good luck with that.”
“Appreciate the confidence.”
He’s still laughing as I climb out of the truck. I shut the door and wave him off before turning my attention to the house again.
A woman in a beige blazer stands near the front steps,she’s dressed professionally, handing out flyers to the various people approaching the home. The listing agent, I assume.
She greets me as I approach. “Hi! Thanks for stopping by. Feel free to take a look around, and let me know if you have any questions about the property.”
I nod, taking the flyer. “Thanks.”
The inside looks crowded, shoulder to shoulder, so I figure I’ll wait for Scottie to do the walk-through and take the flagstone path along the side of the house instead.
There’s a detached garage a short distance from the dock. It looks like the perfect spot to store paddleboards and a couple of kayaks, maybe even some fishing gear I’ll probably never use.
To kill some time, I wander over, following the path that runs between the garage and a small stretch of lawn. From here, the view of the lake is even better—the water calm, sunlight flashing off its surface. The faint sound of laughter carries from the dock where a few potential buyers are talking, but another sound pulls my attention.
Crying.
I pause near the corner of the garage—not trying to eavesdrop, but not wanting to walk straight into someone’s private moment either. I’m about to turn back when I hear a woman’s voice, thick with emotion.
“I hate letting it go,” she says. “So many memories here. The kids, the holidays, summers on the lake.”
A man sighs in response. “It’s time, Maggie. We can’t keep it in the family anymore. The upkeep’s too much, and he’s made it clear he’s not ready to settle down. The house deserves better than to sit empty.”
They must be the owners.
The right thing to do would be to turn around and not eavesdrop on their very personal conversation. Yet, forwhatever reason, my feet stay rooted, my breathing quieting as I listen.
“I know.” She sniffles. “I just want it to go to the right people. Someone who’ll love it the way we did. Maybe a young couple—with kids. A family who’ll make new memories here.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” the man agrees. “It’s not about money. We’ve got plenty of interest, so we can afford to be picky. I want to feel good about who it goes to.”
A young couple.
A family.
The right people.
If that’s what they’re after, I’m already screwed. A single dad probably isn’t their idea of a picture-perfect family.
Unless...
The idea hits before I can stop it—ridiculous but somehow logical at the same time. If they want a couple, a family, then maybe that’s exactly what I’ll give them.
I step back quietly, planning to loop around the other side before they notice me. But as I turn the corner, I nearly collide with the couple themselves.
“Oh!” the woman gasps, steadying herself with a hand on my arm before smiling. Her eyes are red and shiny from tears, but her expression is warm. “You must be here for the open house.”
“I am,” I manage, clearing my throat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”
The man chuckles. “No harm done. I’m Carl, and this is my wife, Maggie. We’re the owners. We didn’t want to be in the way.”
I shake their hands. “Gavin Ledger. It’s a beautiful home.”
“Thank you,” Maggie says, her smile softening. “Are you thinking of putting in an offer?”
Lying is wrong. It would be awfulto lie to these nice people. But…I also want this house. It would be different if there were anything else available, but that’s not the case. And who knows how long it’ll be before another one comes along? It’s a harmless lie. A white lie. It doesn’t hurt anyone.
