Anne

She arrives drunk in an Uber. At least there is that. Jack knows immediately upon seeing the approaching vehicle with its flashing ride share sign. Despite his inward cringe, he turns to the agent and smiles warmly.

“Here she is now.”

“Wonderful.”

The agent nods enthusiastically, straining to hide her confusion. They have been standing on the front sidewalk of the home making small talk for twenty minutes.

He says a silent prayer as the back door opens. The driver meets his eye, his apologetic expression saying, ‘you’ve got your hands full.'

Jack slips a bill from his wallet as the driver rolls down the window.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

“Thank you, sir.” He glances in the rear-view mirror.

Leaning in, the smell of her floral perfume is the first thing he notices. She is digging clumsily through her purse. Her pretty blonde hair is disheveled, hanging on either side of her face.

“Honey? Anne?”

Turning toward him slowly, her sleepy blue eyes take a moment to register his face.

“Hi, baby!” That smile. It has always slayed him.

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was…about to just…going to pay…this nice man has brought me…he’s been so lovely.”

“It’s okay.” Jack holds out a hand. “You’ve already paid him.”

Dumbfounded, she stares, blinking slowly.

“Through the app, honey. We’re good.”

“Oooooooh, wait. That’s riiiiight. So…we’re good?”

“Totally. Sweetheart, give me your hand. We’ve been waiting.”

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Anne slurs. “I had a lunch date and I…” She leans precariously to the left; Jack quickly takes her arm.

“It’s quite all right!” The agent, clearly uncomfortable, turns toward the house. Her arm sweeps as if presenting a prize.

“Well, here it is! I think it might be just what you are looking for. Shall we?”

“Oh, YES!” Anne’s overt enthusiasm is ridiculously charming.

They shuffle through the rooms; the agent flips on lights.

“New countertops-marble! And these floors, couldn’t you just die? Of course, you see there is a pool, which is heaven, given the summers we have.”

Jack stays close, his eyes mostly on his wife, only glancing away briefly as the agent points out one fabulous feature after another.

“So, is this a first home purchase?”

“Uh… We’re just…”

Anne has grown quiet. She’s staring out the back window at the swing set.

“Wanting a change,” he explains.

“I get that!” She chirps. “Well, this neighborhood is hot. People are clamoring to get in.” She rolls her eyes as if it’s the most difficult thing in the world. “If you are interested, we’ll have to move quickly.”

Anne has dropped her purse, which they ignore, and has wandered off down the hall. They find her bracing herself, her hands clutching either side of a door frame, her eyes locked on something in the room.

Peering over her shoulder, the toddler bed with its pink gingham bedding comes into view.

Jack turns, smiling politely, his hand moving to his wife’s back.

“We’ll let you know.”