Variation on a Theme, Book 7
Copyright© 2026 by Grey Wolf
Chapter 12: Secrets and Schemes
Wednesday, July 30, 1986
Things were pretty quiet until Wednesday after class. When we got home, there was a message waiting. It turned out to be from Maxine, and asked us to call her.
When we did, she had surprising news. She’d gotten in touch with the mysterious buyer — or, rather, the buyer’s agent. He’d questioned her a bit about the house, questions she could readily answer. Then he’d made an offer. The offer was a surprising $125,000. Considering we’d purchased the house for about $74,000 in 1984, that was quite an appreciation, even considering the relatively large amount we’d spent on remodeling and upgrades.
Maxine had dutifully promised to pass it along.
We now had a conundrum. The next step should be countering at a higher price. But, if they met our counter, we would at least be honor-bound to sell. We wouldn’t be legally bound, though. There was an option of making a ‘non-binding counteroffer,’ but that would signal our potentially not being serious about selling. That we weren’t serious was almost beside the point. We didn’t want them to know that yet.
Maxine, on speaker phone, suggested saying we were out of town and couldn’t be reached for a week. We agreed to that.
This time, Cammie came through with the best reply.
“We should say, in the counter, that we already have contracted tenants who have an option to renew for their senior year. If they’ll honor the contract, we’re more likely to sell. Make the argument that it will look bad professionally if we sell and the sale voids the existing contract. It would void the contract — nearly all home rental contracts have a void clause if the house is sold — but it would also look bad and make Aggieland Property Management also look bad. They should have to pay a premium for that. But, in this case, it tells us something about their intent. If it’s just to get an investment, that’s one thing. If it’s about displacing us, that’s another. Now ... maybe they’ve got kids going to A&M and just want a nice house. That’s displacement, but it’s not personal. But we get more information.”
Maxine said, “I can pass that along, combined with you being out of town. That easily could be a pre-existing stipulation. So, it’ll be a combination of ‘Will you respect the tenants’ lease?’ along with, ‘There will likely be a counter at a higher price.’ We don’t get info if the higher price scares them off, but...”
“If it scares them off, we’re nearly back to square one. Or whatever.”
“And watching out for firebombs,” Paige said.
“Huh? What?” Maxine asked.
“It’s halfway a joke,” Angie said.
“I say, if it’s personal, their next step is escalation. If we won’t sell, deny us the house,” Paige said.
“Yikes!” Maxine said.
“I’m joking,” Paige said. “I think. Probably.”
“Just it being a consideration is not good!” Maxine said.
“It’s not,” Cammie said. “It really isn’t. But we have reasons to worry.”
“Yes, you do,” Maxine said. “I agree. You do. Just ... hopefully not arson-level reasons.”
“We all hope!” I said.
That gave us a plan. We would see where it took us.
Once we got off the phone, Cammie said, “So ... did any of you piss off Sting?”
Angie said, “Huh? We ... oh! I get it.”
“Yeah,” Cammie said, shaking her head. “This is someone with money. Do we have adversaries with money? I was thinking my parents, but ... even if they got the whole church together, $125,000 is a lot. I wouldn’t buy this house as an investment for that. Now ... if I was well-off, had kids who were going to go to A&M, wanted them to have a nice place to live, and was willing to bet on the real estate market, then sure. I think you could put your kids here for four years and turn a profit, even without redirecting scholarship housing allowances into the house. But just to spite me? I don’t think so.”
“As far as I know, we haven’t annoyed anyone rich,” Angie said, with the rest of us nodding. “We would have noticed if we offended Sting or whoever. But ... there are plenty of rich anti-gay people in Texas. One of them? Maybe?”
“It’s basically a bet,” Cammie said. “If you have the money, you get to harass us and make money doing it. But you have to have a big chunk of money sitting around. It doesn’t work nearly as well if you have to take out a mortgage. I don’t see this place outperforming mortgage rates in the short term. Even for the places Camel has, we’re only solid because of the low rate setup we have, which works because of the balloon payment.”
Mel nodded and said, “I think we would be okay at current interest rates, but I’m an optimist. It would be tight. If a CD would pay better than appreciation, why invest in a property you’re not living in?”
“Because you love real estate?” Cammie said, grinning.
“Okay, fine, you have a point!” Mel said, grinning back.
“Anyway,” Paige said. “Someone well-off. Either with Aggie-to-be kids or after us. Or both! ‘Both’ is an option. Probably not Cammie’s parents.”
“I’m drawing a blank,” Jas said.
“Me too,” I said.
“Nothing here,” Angie said.
“Nor me,” Paige said.
“And we’re already a no,” Cammie said, with Mel nodding.
“So ... we wait and see?” I said.
“That seems like all we can do right now,” Paige said. “We don’t know where they live, so no going after their house.”
We all chuckled at that. It would be funny. But ... no.
I let Candice and Sherry know about the mysterious car. They weren’t worried, but promised to keep an eye out for anything unusual. If anything did happen, they would be affected, and it was unfair to them to not let them know something was afoot.
We finalized plans to head down to Houston on Friday, staying over the weekend. After that, we did some homework and otherwise just hung out.
That was interrupted by a call just after nine o’clock. It turned out to be Jess.
“Steve! I’ve got news. Kinda ... big news? I think, anyway.”
“Oh?”
“They’re flying me off to meet the writer. Which ... feels weird. Writers don’t usually have that sort of input on casting. But it’s also really cool! Even if I don’t get it — which, by now, I really, really hope I get this! — I get to meet a writer I actually recognize. And, no, not sharing the name on this one.”
I could hear the playfulness in her voice. It almost certainly meant I would recognize the writer, too.
“I really, really hope you do, too. I’m very happy for you! And excited! They’re putting money into it, anyway, definitely.”
“I’ll be flying out tomorrow, then back here on Sunday. Or that’s the schedule as I understand it. I’m not sure what I’m doing on Saturday, but they felt like I should get at least one day to play tourist — not saying where, but it’s clearly not overseas — before I go home,” she said.
“Does it feel like this is it? Like ... if the writer likes you, you’re in?”
“I think so. Oh, I mean, there’ll be a contract negotiation. There always is. And I’m not doing it for free! But I’ve also got little room to push too hard. It’ll be my agent — still Kathleen, for now — who does the hard work on that. That’s how she gets paid, after all. Honestly ... we’ll see. I like Kathleen a lot. Can she navigate things if my career takes off? I don’t know. But I can put up with a lot for now, partly because ... well. You know why. An inexplicable feeling about my career.”
She giggled at that, then said, “Laura helps. We’re talking about this, and most everything else. She’s thrilled, too. Seriously, it’s so funny that we’re friends! I almost can’t get over that. She can’t, either. I think, with a few little changes, she could have had it all in her first life. But ... maybe that’s why she’s back. And you, and Angie. You were all so close. And the Jess of her first life was fucked up, I’m sure of it. Not as badly as the Jess of your first life. I ... we can talk some other time, maybe. But ... I think ... there are times when I hated my looks. Seriously! And I think maybe your first-life Jess just got sick of it, picked someone she liked and trusted, and vanished into a quiet life. That’s not for me, but it’s partly not for me because I have a whole network of people I trust to be honest with me and have my best interests at heart. She probably didn’t have that.”
“I get it, I think,” I said. “It kinda reminds me of something. There’s a phrase. I think it’s maybe out there, but not at all common. ‘First World Problems’. It means things like, ‘Oh, woe is me! The fourth bedroom in my house is a bit small and cramped, and the paint sucks.’ Or ... even more... ‘My lake house is a bit small.’ That’s not you, but some people would think it was.”
She giggled. “I get it! And ... yeah. People would think that was me. Women around the world would kill to have the looks I have, and I’m whining about it. But...”
She sighed. “Let’s drop it for now. You know what I mean, and why I mean it. And I know what you mean, too, and that you understand. And it’s in the past. Right now, I totally need the looks I have, and that’s my life from now on. The people who matter to me love me for me, not my face. And, mostly, I can confidently play down my looks when I want to.”
“Exactly. And we do love you. I do, very much.”
She sighed again and said, “I love you, friend.”
“And I love you, friend.”
“You might get a call from the trip. If so, and I can’t get you, I’ll send a non-urgent page. If not, then we’ll talk Monday, probably. Or Sunday night.”
“Sounds good! We’ll all have our fingers crossed for you! Break a leg!”
“Thanks!”
I relayed it to everyone else. Angie caught my eye at one point and nodded.
There was a bit of a shuffle with our sleeping arrangements. Angie wound up with me, Amy with Jas, and poor Paige all by herself. She didn’t seem overly broken up about it.
As we were getting ready for bed, Angie said, “I was already planning this before Jess called. But ... are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Probably.”
“It’s ... wow. I kinda had the idea. But ... well. I don’t want to even jinx it by saying the name. It’ll be huge, though.”
“Delayed, maybe, if things are a parallel. But huge,” I said.
“And ... she’s right. This is one where we might have said something. Something we shouldn’t.”
“I agree. There are a few I would still probably say something about. Just picking one actress, ‘Pretty Woman’ or ‘Erin Brockovich’. You won’t recognize the second one.”
“I don’t, no. Past my time,” she said, giggling and stretching, wiggling her boobs at me. “The first? Definitely.”
“Same with, say, ‘Heathers’. Or ‘Beetlejuice’.”
“Oh, hell, yes! Jess could pull off either. And ... she could be an actual Heather. Just not Veronica. But she shouldn’t be a Heather, probably.”
“Agreed.”
We got to the point where we took turns in the bathroom, then snuggled up, turning the lights off.
“The house is maybe a problem, beyond just an offer,” she said.
“I’m probably thinking what you’re thinking. But you tell me.”
“Someone’s stirring crap up. If they figure out we own the house, and they want to make trouble, telling the parents would do that.”
“Agreed. I was thinking the same thing,” I said.
“We’re going down there.”
“Yeah. We have to rip off another band-aid. Or maybe two.”
“What’s the other one? P.C.’s Limited? Microsoft?” she asked.
“Not Microsoft. Um ... probably not. Though that one is kinda safe, in that they won’t understand the real meaning of our owning twenty-seven thousand shares of Microsoft. It’s a million now. That would freak them out enough as it is, definitely. But, if they had any inkling we thought there was a one hundred to one growth rate or so over a decade-ish...?”
“They would totally freak. Nah. Microsoft is out because of the NDA, anyway. In fact ... um. So. I think it’s in. As in, we can say there are things we’re actually, legally, not allowed to tell them. They can take from that what they will. They’ll accept it, both because they trust us and because we’re not lying, meaning it’ll pass Mom’s radar. If we’re hazy over what is blocked, that’s fine. We can do that.”
“We’ve done it before, plenty of times,” I said. “The important thing is them knowing Jas and Paige are inside the NDA.”
“Yeah. We’ll make sure of that.”
“Nervous, but ... it’s time. And I think we acknowledge it’s a lie by omission, but an understandable one. Though ... we can be hazy about exactly when we got title to the house.”
“What I think is: they won’t ask. And they won’t check. It would actually be trivial for them to find out we’ve had it since the spring of 1984. Property records are public, and MNMS hides nothing. I just don’t see them looking. They want to know ‘enough.’ Enough to understand us and feel happy for us. Not enough to dig into the details,” she said.
“I agree. And back to what you said. I think we can tell them the name, and that’s it’s a significant stake in terms of percentages. Not an exact number, but...”
“They’ll like that. I think, in terms of telling them, and when, we’ve done ... um...”
I paused, then said, “‘Enough’ is the right word. We’re not going to make Dad feel like he’s a failure for still having a mortgage on a house when his kids own one outright and have enough in investments to buy the whole fucking block. Which ... if we couldn’t right now, it’s a year or two away. Anyway, we’re not going to upset him or humiliate him or anything. And we can be completely honest. This is luck. Very, very good luck. He and Mom can never know how big the luck is, or when it started. But ... it’s luck. A lot of planning and hard work, but they get that. It’s just like drama or debate. Gotta put in the work to get there. Then you need luck to triumph.”
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