Read Online Completing the Pass by Jeanette Murray - Free Book Online

Remember that neighborhood on the west side of campus? The area you said you’d love to get into?”
    â€œThe quiet one, with all the professors living there? Hell yeah. Why, what’s up?”
    â€œThere’s a house . . .”
    Carri winced as she set the plates down and went for plastic cups. “No, Jess.”
    â€œThe funds for renovations are there in the business account,” her friend shot back.
    They were, but Carri refused to buy property unless she had looked at it herself. She trusted Jess with her accounts, with her tenants, with contractors, and more. But when Carri was about to plunk down tens—potentially hundreds—of thousands of dollars, she insisted on making the call herself. Even when investors stepped up to help out with the bulk of the money, Carri felt it was her responsibility to choose which properties to jump into. It was a preference, and one Jess didn’t agree with. Jess wanted in on the real-estate action herself.
    â€œYou’re going to miss out. It’s a short sale. Priced a little high for the work I think needs to be done—based on peeking through a window, plus what I can see of the roof from the street—but it’s going to go fast.”
    â€œI’m sure it will. I’m sorry I’ll miss out on the opportunity.” That hurt to say. Carri didn’t buy real estate unless she could get a bargain. And often times, that meant she went without. Her goal from the start had been to not overshoot herself, overextend herself, overgrow herself. What she’d learned by watching and reading was that was where investors got into serious problems. Even so, she’d had to use investors more times than she was comfortable with.
    â€œSo then come back.” Jess huffed. “Your dad’s out of the hospital, he’s been home nearly a week. Come home.”
    She nearly said, “I am home,” but refused to voice the blasphemous words. Salt Lake City hadn’t felt like home, either. It was a great area, and she loved being there, but it wasn’t . . . home. There was no other way to put it. Eventually, she’d find the place that suited her. Or she’d be content to make the place she landed in work for her.
    â€œI’m trying, I really am,” she swore, shooting her dad a smile as he shuffled into the kitchen in his slippers, white undershirt, and flannel pajama pants. His salt-and-pepper hair that rimmed the back and sides of his head stuck out every direction, and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Hold on a sec, Jess.”
    â€œHey, pumpkin.” Herb walked up to her, kissed her lightly on the forehead, and pulled back to smile at her. “You brought pizza. Did you get mushrooms?”
    â€œOn half, Dad.”
    â€œGo get your mother, see if she’s ready to eat.” He patted her arms and walked toward the pizza box on the counter.
    She studied him a moment. He seemed steadier today. More with it. The same dad she’d seen so many months ago when she’d last visited. “Sorry, Jess. Thanks for waiting.”
    â€œSo, are you coming soon?”
    â€œI’m . . . Maybe.” If her father was making progress, either because of meds or something else, maybe she didn’t need to stay any longer. “I’ll let you know. Bye.”
    She hung up and watched as her father lifted a slice of pizza from the box and set it on his plate. Before she left, he called, “Maeve?”
    â€œI’ll get her, Dad.”
    â€œOh, there you are.” Glancing over his shoulder, he gave her a gentle smile. “What are all these brown flecks on the pizza? Seems pretty unsanitary to me.”
    â€œDad . . . it’s Carri.” She approached carefully and realized he was picking off a mushroom. He loved mushrooms. “They’re mushrooms, Daddy.”
    â€œMaeve, we’re not in the bedroom, you can drop all