The Cassie Chronicles

Decisions

I’ve decided I should sell cupcakes for a living instead of homes. It’s got to be easier than dealing with the McNultys.

Randy and Arlene McNulty are empty nesters who couldn’t decide which house to buy. For weeks they’ve toured the models, visited available sites and stood at the topo table staring down at our miniature neighborhood as if their answer lay hidden in the tiny trees. Finally, last week Randy brought in a deposit and scheduled today’s contract appointment. They were an hour late, looking pinch-faced. My cancellation radar was pinging.

Once they were settled in my office, I asked for their completed loan application.

“Not done yet,” Randy grumbled, “and I need copies of my tax returns.” He shoved a thick stack of papers across the desk.

Judy started copying while I helped Randy with the loan application. Like a delicate bird, Arlene perched on the chair’s edge, wringing her hands.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“I guess,” she said, teary-eyed. “It’s just…”

“Arlene, it’s settled,” Randy snapped.

Arlene sniffled and waved off the Kleenex I offered.

“If you’re not sure, let’s not spend three hours signing,” I said, tapping the four-inch thick stack of papers I’d prepared. Cupcakes crossed my mind. A cupcake purchase wouldn’t require all this paperwork. They’d select a cupcake, pay and be gone.

“Everything’s fine,” Randy said.

We got back to work on the loan application.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Arlene said and bolted outside to the public restroom in our first model.

Randy and I completed the application and waited for Arlene’s return. He tapped the desk with his pen. His legs bounced up and down. He glanced toward the door.

“I’ m gonna go get her,” he said and left to find his wife.

I stood behind the topo table, pretending it was a bakery case full of beautiful, fragrant cupcakes. I pictured happy McNultys selecting their favorites.

Finally, they came back up the walkway. Randy pulled Arlene by the hand. She resisted like a toddler. They stopped, argued, glared at each other and came back into the office. So much for happy McNultys.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“I like the Plan 2,” Randy said.

“But I like the Plan 1,” said Arlene.

“The Tuscan exterior’s best,” Randy volleyed.

“No, it’s the Cottage,” countered Arlene.

“Ocean view,” he said.

“Valley view,” she said.

“Lot 52.”

“Lot 65.”

See? There’s the beauty of cupcakes. They wouldn’t have to agree. He could have his chocolate marshmallow and she her peanut butter chip. My stomach growled.

“Why don’t you go have lunch?” I said. “Talk it over.” It was a gamble, but I needed a break from these two.

Randy agreed, but Arlene whined, “I don’t know if I can eat.”

She probably didn’t even like cupcakes, I decided.

As the McNulty’s drove away, Judy brought out Randy’s mountain of copies.

“Where’d they go?” she asked.

“Lunch,” I said.

“Are they coming back?”

I shrugged as my vision of red velvet cupcakes vanished, just like my sale to the McNultys.

Copyright 2009 by Liz Zuercher