Bundle of Joy? (27 page)

At the closing, the seller’s attorney was on time and kissing my ass. Rob made it clear that she and her clients would be paying the adjournment fee and the cost to extend my mortgage rate. She tried to protest, but he quickly explained that it was not up for discussion. Maureen gave me an impressive nod as if to say that our side had scored. I wasn’t confident about that much at that moment.

It was the bank that we sat waiting for in the conference room of the co-op attorney’s office. Maureen tried to ease my tension by showing me pictures of the triplets on their first trip to her lake house. I appreciated her efforts, but felt my body tense. I didn’t want to waste more time.

Finally the bank representative arrived with apologies. His previous closing had run over by an hour because of the sellers’ lateness. I was amazed at the domino effect of all of it. No matter how self-sufficient you tried to be, the actions of others affected you.

Once again, Rob wrote out a bunch of figures on a yellow legal pad. I tried to follow along to get a true sense of how much more money I would be spending than I had anticipated. In the end, it made no sense and I wrote out whatever checks I was told to.

Then I began the process of signing form upon form. Again. My hand hurt when I looked up for another form and there was none. The seller’s attorney was also cleaned out. I looked at Rob.

“That’s it,” he said, smiling.

“You own an apartment,” Maureen said, handing me the key. “Now you can celebrate.”

I called Paul as soon as I got out of the subway. “I’m one block away from my new home.”

“Congratulations, you’re a homeowner.”

“I know, I’m going there now. I think I’m gonna lick the floor. I can’t believe it’s true. I’ve finally won the real estate game.”

He laughed. “So, you are cool doing this on your own.”

“I am fantastic.” I was at the gate. “I’m here.”

“Take it easy, Ms. Mogul.”

“I’ll see you tonight.”

I walked through the courtyard, where someone had set up a picnic table and a grill. I got my keys out. I unlocked the hall door and then took a deep breath before opening mine.

Okay, it was still tiny. It had somehow grown in my memory. I had paid way too much, but it was mine. All mine. And it was sunny and cheery. This is where I would live. I couldn’t get over it. I walked to the center of the room and twirled in the sunlight. It was unreal.

I couldn’t wait to have my boxes unpacked and start my life here. It was all going to be okay. I felt for the first time in my life something I couldn’t identify. I was a writer who just didn’t know the words. It was beyond hope. It surpassed happiness.

In the center of a small room in a carriage house in Chelsea, I felt something foreign and wonderful.

For the first time ever, I felt joy.