There’ll be Time Enough for Countin’ When the Dealin’s Done

I am now a proud, if broke, homeowner.

Now, I realize I have little room to complain, as my situation is not like most. My fiancé (and co-borrower) is also my mortgage broker (and one of my bridesmaids is his assistant). My father is my real estate agent. My mother is my title processor. And my aunt works in the title office too. The first of the differences that this nepotism presents, aside from not getting taken, is that I got to choose what kind of Otis Spunkmeyer cookies I wanted at my settlement. Oatmeal cranberry and chocolate chip (check and check). The boy wanted coffee (hazelnut, check).

The seller had already moved to Tennessee, so it was a family affair. Mom’s boss did the settlement, but I’ve known her since my not-so-triumphant return to Maryland, so that was comfortable too. If only I hadn’t looked at that huge number that represents how much I will have paid over the course of 30 years…but I keep telling myself “I will not live in this house forever. I will not live in this house forever.” And, really, I won’t.

After I signed 1,684 documents, some of them twice, we were mini-showered! My aunt and parents and Mom’s boss visited our Hecht’s registry and made some fabulous purchases. Not, of course, without difficulty. My aunt called me, panicked, that morning, telling me she had looked at the registry just out of “curiosity” and found some interesting information.

Before she told me what it was I knew. “Oh my gosh, it’s the wrong wedding.” Believe it or not, I have still not escaped the ghost of the wedding that never was. I remembered that my mother and I, in the absence of my “fiancé” at the time, had half-heartedly registered for china three years ago. Oops. And it was still in their system, under my nickname. Which is a name that many people know me by, meaning that the wrong registry was bound to be seen. And the boy is far too fantastic to have the ghost haunting our greatness. I wrote a strongly worded e-mail to the people there and received an immediate apology for any embarrassment it caused. “Oh, there is definitely embarrassment,” I replied, “but that’s certainly not your fault.”

Incidentally, we also learned that The Boy got married to a certain Sherri Smith in New York a couple of years ago. I told him about this, and he said, “I knew that skeleton was bound to come out at some point.” I wonder if she needs a new wedding dress...

At the settlement table, The Boy said, “We’re considered first time Maryland home buyers because the house I bought with my other wife was in New York.” Nice.

But, onto the mini-shower! We got great stuff, including our stellar, stemless red wine glasses (to go with the complimentary “Capitol Title Red Wine” we received at settlement) and champagne flutes (to go with the non-complimentary Brut we picked up later that night). Most important, though, was the package addressed only to The Boy. He was ecstatic (“THIS is what showers are like? I wanna come!”). He gently opened the paper to reveal a Waterford box. (“Ooh, it’s crystal,” he said. Do you realize how funny it is that, two weeks ago, he didn’t know that?) Yeah, so he got his beloved butter dish. A freaking $60 butter dish. THANK GOD.

We immediately went to The Home (as The Boy calls it), and toured it with my parents and Little Sister, who asked “Okay, which one is my room? I think I’d like the front one,” and then, “Can I paint my room any color I want?” Umm, no, probably not. The Boy has made great strides, some of them more than I can even handle, in this last year, but I don’t think a purple and pink striped guest room would fly with him. The man has his limits.

Mom and Dad took us to dinner at Our Italian Restaurant (no, really, first date, place The Boy asked my dad for my hand, first anniversary, etc.). After that The Boy and I bought bubbly and toasted to us while we obsessively toured The Home. He was all knocking down walls and adding rooms and I was thinking, “This wallpaper comes down, yes?” We need to work on tweaking our "vision."

After an exhilarating night of measuring every inch in the house, we are off to buy paint and supplies today. I don’t think Home Depot is ready for us.