Read Online Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 05 - A 380 Degree View by Catharine Bramkamp - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Catharine Bramkamp
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cash would be lovely, even in a foreclosure, cash can move the process along quite quickly. I love cash, but I hardly ever work with it.
“Yes.” He shook himself like a large goofy Labrador and rained inside the car, leaving me feeling damp and a bit cranky. “ I do have more. Do you think I could turn it into a bar?”
“No.”
“What do you know about Sarah Miller?” He quickly changed the subject.
“She doesn’t sing very well.” One of the few verifiable facts I knew about Sarah.
“No kidding. Uh, don’t tell her I said that out loud.”
“Your secret is safe.” I drove to the first house, only a few blocks from the library.
I did know something about Sarah, all courtesy of Prue, who heard it through Suzanne Chatterhill, who heard it through various members of the Brotherhood. Sarah Miller was like a ward of the town. Many of the Brotherhood members doted on Sarah and found it shocking that her grandparents were so narrow minded and had inflicted their world view on the girl. Never mind that many in Claim Jump were perfectly aligned with the far right of the world. Narrow minded was categorized differently depending on the situation and the person doing the categorization.
Mind you, no one actually came out and blamed Sarah’s mother for hiding out at the Ridge, either. Anyone who knew the Millers knew they were on the right side of rigid and judgmental. Sarah did graduate from the local public high school but never made it to classes at Sierra College, the local community college. Girls, according to Sarah’s grandparents, were not worth educating.
“Now there’s a girl who has every right to run amok with an ax and hack her grandparents into tiny pieces.” Prue said last night at dinner.
“Please, grandma.”
“Sorry.” She forked up her chicken and pointed the loaded fork at me. “But you know it happens.”
“Just not in Claim Jump,” Mike said. “Nothing ever happens in Claim Jump.”
To Scott I said, “Sarah was born here, when her mother left her as a baby, her grandparents raised her. And now Sarah is returning the favor.” I skipped all the really interesting details of her story. Let the girl tell him herself, that way they would have something to discuss on their first date.
“She must be pretty innocent,” he mused.
“I haven’t met a single millennial who is,” I countered, thinking of my nieces and nephews. They are too wired to the whole world. I consider myself part of the cranky X generation. The only thing I can’t complain about is that my mother never worked. I would have loved being a latchkey kid, think of the privacy, think of the freedom! Think of all the books I could have read in peace!
But this is not about me.
I dismissed the Sarah question. Did I wonder why Scott asked? I did not. I know how slim the pickings are in Claim Jump; I’ve had my own moments. Now I import Ben.
Where did Scott want to live? He did not know. Did he want to walk to the old part of town (the cute part, rather than the practical part across the freeway that in turn spawned a couple of large mid-century developments, which were fine for what they were, considering Lucky built them in the sixties, but you can live anywhere and have a tract home. This was Claim Jump, go for Victorian. I prayed Scott wanted character, it would make our time together much more interesting.)
“I thought I’d go for character.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
I will not bore you, but what I loved, Scott didn’t and what he loved, I saw problems, because that’s my job. But by the fifth house - he had impressive home viewing stamina - we agreed on an adorable house just around the corner from the elementary school. He could walk to work and get winter exercise by shoveling his car out of the driveway because there was no garage. He liked it.
“What do you think?” He asked politely.
I liked all five of the houses we investigated, and all
“Yes.” He shook himself like a large goofy Labrador and rained inside the car, leaving me feeling damp and a bit cranky. “ I do have more. Do you think I could turn it into a bar?”
“No.”
“What do you know about Sarah Miller?” He quickly changed the subject.
“She doesn’t sing very well.” One of the few verifiable facts I knew about Sarah.
“No kidding. Uh, don’t tell her I said that out loud.”
“Your secret is safe.” I drove to the first house, only a few blocks from the library.
I did know something about Sarah, all courtesy of Prue, who heard it through Suzanne Chatterhill, who heard it through various members of the Brotherhood. Sarah Miller was like a ward of the town. Many of the Brotherhood members doted on Sarah and found it shocking that her grandparents were so narrow minded and had inflicted their world view on the girl. Never mind that many in Claim Jump were perfectly aligned with the far right of the world. Narrow minded was categorized differently depending on the situation and the person doing the categorization.
Mind you, no one actually came out and blamed Sarah’s mother for hiding out at the Ridge, either. Anyone who knew the Millers knew they were on the right side of rigid and judgmental. Sarah did graduate from the local public high school but never made it to classes at Sierra College, the local community college. Girls, according to Sarah’s grandparents, were not worth educating.
“Now there’s a girl who has every right to run amok with an ax and hack her grandparents into tiny pieces.” Prue said last night at dinner.
“Please, grandma.”
“Sorry.” She forked up her chicken and pointed the loaded fork at me. “But you know it happens.”
“Just not in Claim Jump,” Mike said. “Nothing ever happens in Claim Jump.”
To Scott I said, “Sarah was born here, when her mother left her as a baby, her grandparents raised her. And now Sarah is returning the favor.” I skipped all the really interesting details of her story. Let the girl tell him herself, that way they would have something to discuss on their first date.
“She must be pretty innocent,” he mused.
“I haven’t met a single millennial who is,” I countered, thinking of my nieces and nephews. They are too wired to the whole world. I consider myself part of the cranky X generation. The only thing I can’t complain about is that my mother never worked. I would have loved being a latchkey kid, think of the privacy, think of the freedom! Think of all the books I could have read in peace!
But this is not about me.
I dismissed the Sarah question. Did I wonder why Scott asked? I did not. I know how slim the pickings are in Claim Jump; I’ve had my own moments. Now I import Ben.
Where did Scott want to live? He did not know. Did he want to walk to the old part of town (the cute part, rather than the practical part across the freeway that in turn spawned a couple of large mid-century developments, which were fine for what they were, considering Lucky built them in the sixties, but you can live anywhere and have a tract home. This was Claim Jump, go for Victorian. I prayed Scott wanted character, it would make our time together much more interesting.)
“I thought I’d go for character.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
I will not bore you, but what I loved, Scott didn’t and what he loved, I saw problems, because that’s my job. But by the fifth house - he had impressive home viewing stamina - we agreed on an adorable house just around the corner from the elementary school. He could walk to work and get winter exercise by shoveling his car out of the driveway because there was no garage. He liked it.
“What do you think?” He asked politely.
I liked all five of the houses we investigated, and all
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