Mary was losing hope that she and Anthony would find a house, ever. They’d seen four in their price range, but all of them fell short of Curb Appeal! and New Fixtures! and Five Years Young! The one they were about to see was the “reach,” which she realized was code for perfect when she saw the façade of the lovely brick town-house, three stories high, with glossy black shutters and matching window boxes, bright with pink and white snapdragons.
“Welcome, folks, I’m Janine Robinson,” the realtor said, opening the door. She was an older woman, nicely made up, though her linen pantsuit had folded into an accordion. Mary had done her time in linen, and it was time for everybody to agree that linen wasn’t good for anything except irons.
“Hello,” Anthony said, introducing them both, which provoked the typical response from Janine the realtor:
“How long have you two been married?”
“We’re not,” Mary answered, since it was her turn, and Anthony stepped into the entrance hall, his hands linked loosely behind his back.
Janine smiled, toothily. “Oh, are you getting married?”
“No, we are going to live in sin.” Mary’s favorite old-time euphemism was “shacked up,” but only Tony-From-Down-The-Block used that one. Nobody trying to sell you a house ever said you were shacking up, even if you were.
“Are you working with anyone?” Janine asked, which Mary knew was another euphemism, for will-I-be-getting-a-three-percent-commission-or-six?
“No, we don’t have a broker. We’re on our own.”
“Come with me, I’ll show you around, then I’ll let you two wander upstairs.”
“Great, thanks.” Mary stepped into the living room, where something funny happened. She had never lived in any house as nice as this, but it felt instantly like home.
Janine was saying, “Fully renovated living room, new parquet floors, authentic crown molding, southern exposure, everything a young couple could ask for…”
Mary zoned her out. She had memorized the listing, and any idiot could see that the room was flooded with light, unusual for the city, and that its colonial proportions had a historic grace. The window-sills were a foot thick, begging for a window seat or a house cat. She and Mike used to have a cat, but she pressed that thought away.
Janine continued, “Here you see the dining room, also spacious, with windows that overlook this charming courtyard. The brick patio is new, and the plantings are specimen, a miniature cypress and several yew bushes.”
Yew? Yay! Mary peeked into the courtyard, captivated. She could imagine sitting outside, reading in an Adirondacks chair. She’d never had a house with a real backyard. Her parents had had a concrete pad for their trashcans, where her father had once tried to grow a fig tree, required for Italian men of a certain generation.
“The kitchen, over here, has also been fully renovated, all stainless steel, and you can see it’s fitted for a gourmet. Viking Range, Sub-Zero refrigerator, KitchenAid trash compactor, all top-of-the-line.” Janine gestured to the glossy tan countertop. “This, of course, is granite, and all of the plumbing is Perrin & Rowe, which comes directly from London, England.”
Mary stared at the sunshine reflecting on the stainless steel. It was a dream kitchen, plus she could get an excellent tan.
“I’ll let you find your way upstairs. There’s a nursery up there, next to the master.” Janine picked up a fact sheet. “Anthony, take this. Your girlfriend looks too smitten to read it.”
“She is?” Anthony turned with a bemused smile.
“Not yet,” Mary said, to preserve their bargaining position. Her neck blotches alone would drive the price sky-high.
Janine handed them both her business card. “Don’t wait too long on this listing, folks. I had a crowd in here today, even with everybody away. This one won’t be on the market much longer.”
“Thanks,” Mary said, slipping the card into her purse. She and Anthony left the kitchen and went upstairs in silence, as was their custom. Neither wanted to influence the other, and she suspected that the realtors eavesdropped. They went into the master bedroom and closed the door behind them.
“Can you believe this place?” Mary whispered, and Anthony started laughing.
“I know. I don’t need to see the rest.”
“Me, neither!” Mary’s heart leapt with happiness.
“We should go.”
“What?” Mary didn’t understand. “We should buy it!”
“What?” Anthony looked at her like she was nuts. “Do you know how much this place costs?”
“I know it’s expensive, but do you like it?”
“Did you see this?” Anthony held up the fact sheet, like a teacher holding up a flunking exam, and Mary was the worst student in class.
“I know the asking price from the listing.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I told you it was a reach.”
“It’s not a reach, it’s Everest!” Anthony laughed, but Mary didn’t.
“Do you like it?”
“Of course I like it. What’s not to like, except the price and the location?”
“What’s wrong with the location? It’s right off Ritten house Square, the best location in Center City. I can walk to work, you can walk to the library or the train.”
“I know, but-”
“But what?”
“Come on.” Anthony puckered his lower lip. “It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think. What’s that mean?”
“Over the top. It’s so much more than we need.”
Mary blinked. “What is? It’s a house, and we need a house.”
“Do we need a gourmet kitchen? Most of the time, we eat take-out.”
“Now we do, but we don’t have to,” Mary said, starting to feel bothered. “We won’t always do that. We can make nice meals.”
“But we won’t, and we didn’t even see the rest of the house.”
“I know, and we’ll look, but it’s already perfect for us, I can just feel it. Why shouldn’t we have a nice house, if we can?”
“But we can’t, babe.” Anthony’s expression darkened, and his lips pursed. “I can’t.”
Mary swallowed. They were finally going to have this conversation, so she spoke from the heart. “Don’t worry about it, I can afford it,” she said, softening her tone.
“What are you saying? It’s a reach even for you, isn’t it?”
“I know that, but I can afford it.”
“So what does that mean, in practical terms?” Anthony asked, pained. “I can’t afford to buy this with you. I don’t have even half of this down payment.”
“Then I’ll buy it. I’ll put down the whole amount, and you keep your money.”
“Babe, I can’t even afford half of what this monthly mortgage would be.” Anthony looked stricken. “It might be within your reach, but it isn’t in mine.”
“Then don’t pay anything. Here’s what I think.” Mary finally had clarity. She should have talked to him about this a long time ago, like Judy said. “I can afford the whole thing, and I want you to live with me. It doesn’t matter who pays.”
“It does to me.” Anthony’s expression went cold. “I can’t do that, I can’t let you do that. I’d feel kept.”
“But you’re not. Somebody has to make more than somebody else, and it happens to be me. It just happens.”
“Not to me.”
“Yes, to you.” Mary tried to moderate her voice. “It’ll be my name on the deed, if you don’t mind, but no one has to know. We love each other and we live together, that’s all.”
“I can’t do it, babe.” Anthony thrust the fact sheet at her, and Mary gave up, throwing it to the ground.
“Then how do I win? I can’t win!”
“It’s not about winning and losing.”
“Women make that deal every day, and nobody thinks it’s weird!”
“It’s not a deal, either. No man in the world would feel comfortable with that arrangement.”
“I know one who would!” Mary shot back, angry, and she didn’t have to explain who she meant. Anthony went red in the face, his dark eyes glittering with bitterness.
“I’m not him, and I’m not buying this house.”
“Well, I’m trying to make partner in a law firm, and I can’t be less than I am so you’ll feel good about yourself!”
Anthony looked stunned, and even Mary couldn’t believe what she’d said. It was true but unsayable, which was a category she hadn’t known existed, until now.
“Then buy it, partner.” Anthony turned away and walked out of the bedroom, his steps echoing in the large, empty house.