Chapter 13: Houses and Home

Monday, August 19, 1985

We were up around nine, which was a bit late when classes were in session. Since they weren’t, it wasn’t an issue.

After breakfast, we started looking around the house to see what changed. Candice and Sherry had gone for pale green paint with darker green accents. We all liked it.

Cammie and Mel had been busy. The plants were all doing well. They’d been weeded and clearly had plenty of water, plus love and care. The herb garden was going strong, and we had tomatoes, carrots, peas, zucchini squash, eggplant, and potatoes. Not a ton of each, but we would have some homegrown treats.

The flowers were beautiful, and the jasmine was doing a very good job of taking over the archway.

We walked the backyard, getting ideas for next steps. I wanted to put a two-car garage inside the gate, with a wider driveway outside of it. We had the space to do that. That would give us (and future tenants) either weatherproof storage or parking. In theory, up to four cars could be parked off the street, as long as no one needed to get a car out of the garage quickly.

We had plenty of room for parties but needed more outdoor furniture. Cheap stuff would do, but we needed it soon. Angie and Paige really wanted a ‘kick off the year’ party for the GSS sophomores and our study group friends. They might hold a second one once freshmen had a chance to join.

Once we’d been in the backyard for a bit, I sprung my surprise on the girls. If they agreed, there was little chance Cammie and Mel would balk. If they didn’t agree, it was dead anyway.

I’d done a bunch of research and picked out a hot tub. It was smaller than the Winterfords’ but should hold eight people without anyone needing to be overly friendly. Double that, at least, if lap sitting was fine.

We had the necessary utility connections relatively handy. It was affordable, too, at least by our standards.

As I’d expected, the girls were very enthusiastic. Sure, we would never use it between June and August, and only occasionally in May or September, but it would be great for the cooler months. Those just happened to be the core of the college year, after all.

It would be a selling point for renters, too. That wasn’t my goal, but it was a goal.

We would still let Cammie and Mel weigh in, but I would be very surprised if they voted no. It seemed too good to pass up.

We made a big grocery store run in the afternoon. There was plenty of food in the house, but it was mainly the things Cammie and Mel particularly liked. We needed to add more staples and refill our pantry.

Two weeks from today, we would be back in class. I suspected we would have some of the best ‘what I did last summer’ stories in the whole university, but we probably shouldn’t spread them around too much. It would come off as bragging, and we didn’t want to be those people!

After some discussion, we put off the cat adoption until Cammie and Mel were back. After more discussion, we put it off until after Candice and Sherry moved in. The cat wouldn’t be theirs, but we wanted them to be comfortable with it. And, if there was a good reason they couldn’t be around a cat, we wouldn’t want to subject them to one.

Hopefully it would all go well. It felt like a topic we should discuss in person, though, not over the phone. If they were out, they were out. But, if they were in, they would have a chance to accompany us to the shelter and meet potential cats.

Maybe, as Paige liked to point out, even a Jellicle cat.

Tuesday, August 20, 1985

Cammie and Mel arrived late in the morning. It sounded like they’d had a good time with the Rileys. There was still room for improvement, but many of the issues were resolved.

Mark, Morty, and Emily had headed back to Austin today, too. Abrupt empty nest for the Rileys, but I’m sure they were getting used to it.

Once we’d had lunch, Jas and Angie told them about ‘Steve’s hot tub idea’. They were, as expected, enthusiastic, though both of them teased me about wanting to see them naked again.

I didn’t disagree at all. Nothing wrong with that!

On the other hand, I couldn’t resist teasing Mel, saying, “Well, I mean, c’mon. After your makeover comment, we’ll all be looking to see if the carpet matches the drapes.”

Cammie said, “Carpet? What carpet?”

That got everyone laughing much too hard.

Once we’d brought up the subject of hair color, that reminded Cammie and Mel about Hullabaloo Cafe. We all walked down to Sbisa (about a ten-minute walk from the house). Sure enough, there it was on the west side of the building. We headed in.

Sadly, there was no purple-haired girl behind the counter. Instead, there was a mid-twenties guy with what would, in later years, be called hipster glasses and a goatee. Oh, sure, the term ‘hipster’ went back decades, but almost no one would think of ‘hipster glasses’ as a thing in the 1980s.

“Howdy! Welcome to Hullabaloo Cafe!” he said in a surprisingly strong voice. I kinda liked him, even if (or, perhaps, because) he was a bit of a character.

“Hey Trev!” Mel said. “Where’s A?”

I could see that his name tag actually did say ‘Trev’. I gave him a few more points for that.

“Eh!” the guy said. “She’s visiting her folks in between semesters. She said, and I quote, ‘They will not want me there, and I will not want to be there, but we will still somehow have an enjoyable time.’”

Cammie snorted, and said, “Sounds like her!”

I put two and two together.

“Amy?”

“She’s going by Amethyst,” Trev said. “Amy’s ‘so bourgeois.’ So sayeth Amethyst.”

Jas chuckled.

“She sounds cool! How do you know her, Steve?”

“She lives just down the hall from Claire. Well, or she did last semester.”

Trev said, “She’s still in the dorm. Except, not now.”

We all nodded.

“What can I do ya for?” he said.

Everyone ordered. It seemed a bit like a Starbucks from long ago in the future, except that nothing was ‘Grande’ or ‘Venti’ or even ‘Tall.’ I could get behind that. There were fewer options, too. The only sort of fruit available was lemon, for instance, and that was for the plain iced tea.

Jas ordered an espresso. Once she had it, I noticed she didn’t actually seem to be enjoying it. I smirked a bit to myself, but made sure she didn’t see me doing it.

As for me, I ordered a ridiculous iced coffee with a lot of cream and sugar. It was more than halfway to being a coffee milkshake, but it was tasty.

We checked out the menu. Hamburgers, sandwiches, and pizza (by the pie or by the slice), plus various snacks. You could get a lunch or dinner special (sandwich, burger, or pizza slice, fountain drink or plain coffee, chips or cookie) on a meal card, but everything else was cash.

We sat around one of the tables, sipping coffee and eating biscotti. They really needed beignets!

The cafe had many large windows and a reasonably pleasant view. Surprisingly comfortable chairs, too!

It all looked good, and I imagined we would be back here frequently.

Heck, it might be a good spot for mini-dates. Sometimes a little lunch date would be just as good as a dinner date. For that matter, sometimes they might be even better, since they would be unexpected, spur-of-the-moment things!

I made a mental note to take Darla here. It was a great place for a lunch date. Inexpensive, relatively nice, and somewhat off the beaten path. Very convenient to Blocker, too, which was great for us Business types.

It’d be fun to see Amy (or Amethyst), too. She would probably remember me, though maybe that was my ego talking.

After lunch, the big mission was taking a look at the houses Cammie had found. We’d already given her and Mel the go-ahead, but she really wanted to show off her finds.

The first was only a block away. Not on the same street, but it was close. It was also a two-story, but a more complete apartment conversion. Two apartments on the first floor, two on the second, with small living areas on both. There was no shared kitchen — each apartment had its own. No basement, of course. I would be extremely surprised to find another house with one.

None of the tenants were there, but their stuff was there. That was okay — we had permission to be in there, thanks to real estate agent Cammie.

Camel Properties (meaning Cammie and Mel) might want to do a bit of remodeling and improvement next summer, but it was fine for now. We could continue with the same property management company for the next year (while making sure they didn’t screw the tenants, something we really cared about). We would probably switch in Summer 1986.

Based on Cammie’s projections, it certainly would pay for itself over time. We would have positive cash flow now and a higher valuation in about a decade.

If we could buy up more homes in this area, we might be able to get control of a block of properties. That would probably considerably improve our leverage and return when an apartment builder inevitably tried to take over this neighborhood.

Or, perhaps, Camel would be that apartment builder. Could certainly happen!

After walking through the first house, we drove a short distance into one of the south-of-campus rental house neighborhoods. This house wasn’t as good. It felt more like our house before the conversion. Cammie made the point that all of the homes around here were like it, though. Two apartments on the first floor, three on the second, and a half-baked attic conversion into individual storage spaces. Annoying and hard to access storage spaces, but they were there.

It wasn’t pushing Camel into ‘slumlord’ territory — Cammie and Mel wouldn’t go there — but it wasn’t as nice. That was okay. We could use a diversified portfolio.

Like the first, it would pay for itself.

The third property Cammie showed us was a bit of a surprise. This one was a quadplex - two downstairs apartments, two upstairs, sharing a common wall, each up-and-down combo sharing a driveway, and the upstairs units sharing a stairway and landing. It was in a little development of quadplexes. Cammie said it had surprised her to learn this, too, was mostly a grad student enclave. The units looked well-maintained and there was no obvious trouble.

It was certainly ‘diversified’. I didn’t have any problem with it, nor did the others.

Once we were done, Cammie and Mel pulled me aside. The others waited.

“So ... what do you think?” Cammie said.

“All three look good to me. What do you think?”

Cammie blushed and said, “I like them. I mean — that’s why I showed them to you.”

“So...?”

She hesitated. Mel did, too, though I think Mel realized where this was going before Cammie did.

“I ... um...” Cammie said.

“Cammie,” I said, “This is you and Mel. It’s your call. I’m happy to be asked, and it makes sense to ask all of us because we’re all smart and might see things, but I’m not the decision-maker here. You two are. If you start asking me to make decisions now, it’s not Camel, it’s Cameleve or something. Stamel?”

Both of them giggled a bit at that, even while also blushing.

“Um...” Cammie said. “Okay. I get that. But ... it’s your money!”

“It’s Camel’s money,” I said. “That’s why Camel has the money allocated to it. This is your baby, and you wanted it to be your baby. I trust you. So do Jas, Angie, and Paige. I get that you’re nineteen and these are big numbers, but I’m nineteen and they’re big numbers for me, too. I’m not pushing you to do anything, but ... it’s like you two said with PROMISE. If you ask me, I’ll wind up making the decisions. Sooner or later, some business class is going to say that’s me micro-managing.”

“I...” Cammie said. Then she sighed and blushed.

“You’re right,” she said. “We did ask that, and ... yeah. It’s just as valid here. It’s just ... PROMISE was a wing and a prayer and volunteer stuff. This is ... we’re tying up nearly two hundred thousand dollars and putting us on the hook to repay another one hundred thousand. It’s ... it’s intimidating! What if I screw up?”

I shrugged and said, “So you screw up. Cammie ... we’re going to screw up. The wrong house, the wrong investment, the wrong guess, the wrong tenants. Whatever. ‘Future knowledge’ only goes so far. Hell, if everything we touch turns to gold, that might be the biggest screw-up of all. No one is that good. Not Warren Buffett, not anyone.”

“Still intimidating.”

“Look...” I said. “How about ... and I know we haven’t covered this yet, but I also know you can figure it out ... make a business case for this. A really simple one. Expected revenue, expected costs. Depreciation, taxes, all of that. Add in a guess at appreciation. Undercount on that — we don’t know how big the downturn will be, but we know it’s there. Let’s go over it on ... Friday? I know we want to move on these.”