Page 66 of The New Place

“So let’s talk budget,” she says. “Now Ned, I know things are a bit up in the air for you. Will that affect financing?”

“I’d have to get a letter of employment for the bank,” he says slowly, trying to think. He bought the house with Jen a good long while ago, and the process was complicated, so it’s hard to scrounge it up from memory. “Either from Adams, which they may not take, frankly, or from Newbury.” This is like a chicken and a damn egg. He needs to be looking for a place to get Newbury to consider him for a job, and he needs a job to be able to look for a place. Figures that he’s walked himself into this maze.

“We can sort that out,” Sandy says. “Are either of you listing a property?”

“I’ll be selling my house in Portland,” Abbot says.

“Great market up there,” she says. “In terms of timing, are we looking for progress on that sale before placing a down payment here?”

A down payment. Ned thinks of his bank and imagines the polite humor on the face of a lender, looking between his balance and any amount he’d be asking for. This might all be fiction, but it has to be at least a little believable.

“Yes,” Ned says.

Abbot squeezes his hand. “No.”

“Yes and no?” Sandy asks with a smile, looking between them.

“I…” Ned starts. No? Is Abbot having fun with this farce? He doesn’t look it. Ned sees none of the amused dance his eyes get when he’s joking, just his normal stoicism of talking to someone he doesn’t know. “Hon.” Ned rubs his thumb over Abbot’s. If he’s going into some fantasy land, they might have gotten that straight before coming here this morning.

“It’d be ideal, perhaps,” Abbot says. “But not necessary, especially if we found the right property.”

“I’ll make a note of that.” Sandy’s keyboard clicks as she types. “Are we thinking financing at all, or no?”

“No; if I sold it first, I’d pay cash,” Abbot says.

Ned stares at him.

Sandy nods. “That really gives you some options in the Boston market, then,” she says like it’s all that simple. “What do you have in mind for a budget?”

“Ideally under three,” Abbot says.

Ned lets out a soft laugh. “Three hundred thousand?” That won’t buy much in Maine these days, let alone Boston.

Abbot glances at him. “Three million?”

“Right,” Ned says quickly. Three million. A second laugh sits high in his throat. Yeah. Okay. The hell? Ned wants to ask him. Three million dollars, in cash?

Too late, he remembers he shouldn’t have shock sitting on his face, because Sandy’s looking at him. “You two have discussed this?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Ned wants to let go of Abbot’s hand. His own feels suddenly clammy. “We’re good. So good.”

“So if we’re looking at a twenty percent down payment, we’d be in the range of about six hundred thousand?”

Sweat begins to gather on Ned’s back. Don’t look surprised, he coaches himself. Don’t look horrified or nauseous or anything other than delightfully happy about this future we’re very much on the same page about.

“That’s right,” Abbot says.

Ned’s stomach starts to churn.

“It really comes down to what you’re most interested in. Number of bedrooms? Location? If I have an idea of what’s important for both of you, I can get together a list of properties to look at in person.”

Ned can’t in good conscience waste this woman’s time, looking at houses he’ll never afford in his lifetime, landing a job at Newbury or not.

“Keeping the price down,” Ned says.

“Space for bedrooms,” Abbot says at the same time.

“Well, you two will have some time to talk before we see anything,” Sandy says, which is a very diplomatic Go figure your shit out, and Ned takes the comment with a forced smile. “Get a little closer on price, and exactly the square footage and size you both want.”