Chapter 27

Sean, Walt, Adam and Mary were sitting at the table when the four girls went inside.

"About time," Mary said. "I was about to roast Adam's wienie for supper. We're thinking pizza but we didn't know if Sarah or Allie might have food allergies. Adam said it hadn't come up in conversation. Imagine that."

Allie and Sarah still looked shell-shocked and Rachelle looked pale. Her eyes were still red.

"Everything OK?" Sean asked.

"Rachelle's father is coming over and bringing dinner to celebrate," Shelly supplied. She figured Rachelle had filled in Sean on the details of her past but now wasn't the time if she hadn't.

"Oh, that explains why he isn't home," Sean said. "I thought he might be out on a date."

Rachelle smiled and brightened.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" she said. "Besides, I'm still trying to convince him that your Mom is the right woman for him."

"That would make you brother and sister, you know that, right?" Shelly asked.

"It would make us two adults with two adult parents who are good together," Rachelle said firmly. "Nothing more than that. I already think of Nora as my surrogate mother anyway. I'm sure Daddy would not be disappointed to have a son like Sean or a daughter like Erin, either."

"Yuck," Mary said. "I still think it would be creepy to have sex with your stepbrother."

Allie laughed and nudged Sarah.

"Tell them about that scene you were offered in Miami," Allie said. Sarah shook her head so Allie prodded her again.

"Fine," Sarah said. "There is a parody of an old sitcom with a blended family. The whole thing is about sex with stepsiblings and peeping at them in the shower and stuff. I turned it down."

"I don't think my Mom is interested in another husband anyway," Sean said with a shrug. "Even though I think Rachelle's dad is a good guy."

"Hah!" Mary said. "Little you know. What is your mom, 38 or 39?"

"Forty, next month," Sean said.

"She is just hitting her sexual prime," Mary said, obviously pleased at the blush on Sean's cheeks when he thought of his mother having sex. "Better with a nice guy like Mr. Cunningham than some fat loser with a receding hairline and hair in his ears."

"Stop it," Walt said. "It's not funny, Mary. It irks Sean when you rag on him about things like that, so knock it off."

Adam expected the fireworks to start any minute. It wasn't funny but Mary didn't like getting called out in front of others, particularly by Walt. Instead Mary blushed.

"I'm sorry, Sean," she said. "I get stupid sometimes. But I like your Mom and I want her to be happy. She deserves to find someone to spend the best part of her life with. I'll stop picking on you about it, though."

Sean frowned but nodded and Rachelle patted his arm softly.

"We'll all be together next week," Rachelle said. "I'm glad they are at least friends."

"Me, too," Sean admitted. The rest of the conversation ended when half of the topic knocked on the door. Mike Cunningham entered carrying several bags of food and drinks. He had a broad smile across his face; a face which resembled Rachelle's in appearance. The guys went over to help him carry the stuff in. "Thanks for leaving me a spot out front but this was supposed to be a surprise."

"It is a surprise," Walt said, taking a large container of chicken from Mike's hands. "Not 10 minutes ago we were debating food choices. Come on in."

Mike walked in and looked around. He was 43 years old and he remembered his college days at USC well.

"New furniture, huh?" he asked as he nodded toward the living room. "They are already taking over. The next thing you know, the toilet seat will be down all the time and you'll have potpourri in every corner you used to keep your shoes."

The guys laughed but Rachelle and Mary shot him a soft glare.

"Well, since I don't recognize you two, I will guess you're Sarah and Allie," Mike said, extending a hand to each girl in turn. "It's nice to meet you. Rachelle tells me that you are both really great friends."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Cunningham," Allie and Sarah said in unison.

"Oh, stereo," Mike joked. "I like it. But I'm Mike – except to Rachelle who calls me Daddy and Sean, who for some reason refers to me in the third person – Rachelle's father – even when I'm in the room. It offended me for a while but I saw him do the same thing to Walt's parents last summer so I figured it's his hang-up, not mine."

Everyone laughed and Sean blushed again.

"I still think I should call you Mr. Cunningham," Sean said. "But you won't answer to that. So I hedge a bit."

Mike rolled his eyes.

"They've been dating for 16 months and living together for almost nine," he said. "He thinks he should call me Mr. Cunningham. Fine. Mr. Silverman, there are paper plates in one of the bags. Why don't you start passing them around? I can hear Shelly's tummy rumbling from here. By the way, Shelly, you're looking really nice. It's the first time I think I've ever seen a genuine smile on your face. I hope it stays there."

Shelly blushed but her smile widened.

"Thanks, Mike," she said. Like Sean, Shelly had always referred to the man as Mr. Cunningham. "I am happy. I have had a very good week."

"I heard," he said, returning her smile. "And thanks for calling me by my name. You were the last holdout besides Sean. He has nothing to fall back on now. I'm glad things are working out for you. Now, let's eat."

The group dug into the variety of food on the table – and on the countertop – in relative silence. None of the younger group had taken a break to eat because things were moving fast and furious at the estate sale. A quick gulp of water was the best they could hope for. When the pace slowed a bit, Mike spoke up again.

"I had a brief chat with Arthur a little while ago," Mike said. "He wanted me to let Walt know that the car is a dream and that he can use it for a date whenever he wants."

Walt smiled but his eyes were hard. He found it offensive that someone would treat a vintage car as the Rev. Jimmy Kimble had.

"They put sugar in the gas tank," Walt said with a trace of anger. "They must have stopped a few hundred feet down the road to crack the distributor cap before they drove it back in. I don't care if he is a preacher, that man is an asshat."

"Asshat?" Mike asked. "I can't keep up with the slang. Is that better or worse than an ass-clown?"

He turned to Sarah and Allie and whispered conspiratorially.

"I learned ass-clown the last time I was here," he said. "I've even gotten to use it in a sentence a time or two."

The girls laughed.

"Asshat, ass-clown, I think they're about the same," Allie said. "Not quite up there with douche-nozzle but close."

"Douche-nozzle," Walt said, as if he was trying out the word to see if it fit. "Yeah, I can see Jimmy as a douche-nozzle. What is a douche-nozzle, by the way? I mean, I know what a douche is – the product and the nickname."

Mary slapped his arm.

"The nozzle is a nozzle," she said. "It's what goes inside."

Mike just eyed his food and stayed quiet. He enjoyed spending time with the group but a little bit of time went a long way sometimes.

"So, by conservative estimates, this group made me about $2.5 million today," he announced. The rest of the table went silent. "Thought that might get your attention. And I wanted your attention for what I want to say next. I had a cashier's check for $75,000 couriered over to be given to Edna Patrick at the airport. I missed her at the hotel. Apparently she found a late flight back East and booked it. I arranged for her to be upgraded to first class and handed the envelope when she presents her ticket. I'm calling it a brokerage fee, in case she asks. But the truth is, it didn't sit well with me what those people did.

"Arthur said they gave her a round-trip ticket – in coach – and the cheapest rental car and accommodations they could find. That estate could have gone for $20 million easily. Instead it went for slightly less than $2 million. That's Carswell's fault and it's Kimble's fault. Both are greedy bastards and it bit them on the ass this time. However, there are several in this room who should probably watch themselves. Jimmy Kimble lost $18 million today and he is going to be pissed off. There is little he can do to most of us but there are two of you whose families might hear of what you're doing for work. If they don't know, you should tell them."

"They know," Sarah said. "Allie and Adam don't have to worry."

"OK, then," Mike said. "I didn't really know how to broach that subject so I just came out with it. I hope I didn't embarrass or offend anyone. I knew about Adam's situation but I didn't know about yours, Allie. Please accept my apologies."

"Thanks, but no apologies are necessary," she said. "I hope this won't hurt the rest of the group if this comes out – or your businesses."

Mike offered half a shrug.

"I am a businessman so I try not to offend anyone," he answered. "They all have the same color money. That said, if someone wants to make an issue out of it, let them. I would rather lose the wing nut market share than to let them dictate my personal decisions."

Adam, Sarah and Allie smiled their gratitude as Sean asked to speak to Mike outside for a few minutes. Sean looked relieved and Mike looked happy when they returned. For a moment, Adam thought Sean had asked Mike's permission to marry Rachelle but then he remembered what they discussed on the way over. Sean met Adam's eyes and nodded.

"Recently, Mr... , Mike and I looked at a property on the north side of the city," Sean said, glancing around the table for reactions. Since he hadn't gotten to the good part, there was no reaction. "I made an innocuous comment as we looked around to the effect that it would be perfect for the group to consider renting from him."

"However, I am not interested in being a landlord," Mike interjected.

"Yes," Sean said dryly. "He does not wish to be a landlord and he told me that at the time. So he offered to let us buy it."

Walt and Adam laughed aloud.

"I'm not kidding," Sean said. "Between the eight of us, we pay more than $5,000 a month in rent. That's $60,000 a year we spend with no equity. Granted, for some of us, that is in student loans or grants in aid. But that doesn't matter. We still spend that money on housing that we'll never own."

He glanced over at Mike for a moment before continuing.

"I spoke to Adam about this on the way home," Sean said. "The dwelling was once a duplex. Is everyone familiar with that?"

Mary looked puzzled as did Sarah.

"It is two identical apartments/houses connected together," Sean clarified. "Except this one is different. A single family purchased the duplex and modified it to fit their needs. There are four bedrooms and a really large bathroom upstairs. There is a living room, a dining room a kitchen and, well another room I'm not sure what it was for, downstairs along with another smaller but still full bathroom.

"I've run the numbers and we can do this. Our utilities will be cheaper because we'll be paying a single bill instead of having it in two names. Almost 20 percent of every electric bill is the service generation fee that is charged per residence regardless of usage. The food bill shouldn't change, nor should the cost of transportation. It is about the same distance to a bus stop from there as it is from here."

Adam pursed his lips.

"Still, Sean, how do you propose for us to purchase this property?" he asked. "We are not going to be able to get a loan. I mean, really, our work history is a little shady at this point. No bank will touch us."

"They won't have to," Mike interrupted. "I already bought the property, Adam. I own it. I will sell it to this group for $300,000 and I'll carry the paper on it. That means the mortgage will be through me and not through a bank. Obviously, I would prefer not to get into 30-year mortgages – mostly because that means Rachelle will be paying off her home to herself – but also because that means you will wind up paying about $750,000 on a $300,000 property."

He turned to look at Sean.

"I've run the numbers," Sean said. "With a 10-year note at 4.75 percent interest, we'd each pay $500 a month. That includes setting aside money each month for taxes, insurance and maintenance. That saves us each $150 a month on what we would be paying in rent. Plus, if we decide we don't want to fool with it in a couple of years, we can turn around and get $550,000 from it easily. We could pay Mike what we owe him and each pocket about 25 or 30 grand."

"Actually, you'll need to run the numbers again," Mike said. "I was talking 4.75 percent if you went 30 years. If you cut it to 10, I'll drop it a point. A half point if you want 15 years."

"I thought you might offer that," Sean said, glancing at his notes. "That will cut the total down to $450 per month per person. If we are willing to pay the same in a mortgage as we pay in rent, we could cut it to five years and still come out ahead. It's like an oval, I suppose. The shorter the term, the more you pay now but the less you pay in the long run. The interest on a 30-year loan is always going to be about one-and-a-half times the principle."

"So why don't we just do a five-year mortgage?" Shelly asked.

"Because that will put us short when tax time comes around and if we have to do any major repairs," Walt put forth. "That is the problem with home ownership. If something breaks, you pay of it. You don't call the landlord to come fix it."