Selling Someone Else's Dream

By being far away in California, Evan, my oldest, and I are getting closer.  He called only when he needed me to cut his hair or to go out with us to sushi when he lived nearby.  Now he’s calling every day. 

He gives me painting updates and the daily Dad story.  We love the interest my Dad takes in both of us, but he’s like no other.  Evan feels like he needs to share the day’s events with someone, and that someone is me.  Nobody else would understand.

“Today your Dad made me change my clothes,” Evan said.  “‘Those shorts you’re wearing are too good for painting,’ he said, even though they’re the same shorts I’ve worn painting for a week, and the same shorts I wore last time I was down painting.

“I changed into my good shorts.  When he wasn’t looking, I changed back into my painting shorts.  In the meantime, he found some pink boxer shorts for me to wear.   I said whatever I could so I didn’t have to paint the front of the house on a busy street wearing pink boxer shorts.

“Then your Dad’s wife came out with a bunch of ladies’ sunglasses.  She said, ‘I know your eyes are bad, so wear these.  You can keep them, I have more.’  I said thanks and continued to wear my own.  Today I narrowly avoided painting the front of a house on a busy street wearing ladies’ sunglasses and pink boxer shorts.”

This wardrobe decision comment couldn’t have come at a better time.  Charlie already made the skateboarder wear a pair of his work shorts, since the skateboarder wears nothing but big, black goodwill pants.  The skateboarder kept pulling at Charlie’s shorts, whining, “They’re too short,” and took them off the second he was finished working in the yard.

Then Evan got a little quiet.  He said, “After a decade of threatening, he’s going through with it,” Evan says.  “Your Dad’s selling his house . . . our old house.  My house.”

Evan stays at this house every summer to work or to visit relatives.  He’s been staying here ever since we moved out.   This house used to be our house.  It’s the first house I ever fixed up, and the best house I ever fixed up.  My Dad bought it off of us when he and my Mom divorced.  Now he’s selling it.

“Your Dad’s wife has a brother,” Evan says.  “Your Dad’s buying the brother’s house because the brother is getting old and moving to Florida.  It’s some ranch house near the rest of your Dad’s wife’s relatives.  I may be a kid, but if I were in Real Estate, I’d think this house is a better investment.”

He has a point.  I don’t know too many people who’d trade a 1918 beautifully restored (if I say so myself) Craftsman in wild and wonderful Los Gatos for a 1960’s Ranch house in the dead suburbs near relatives.  We might be too emotionally attached to this house to think objectively, however. 

I had no choice in moving from this house, and neither did Evan.  We’ve lived in other older, bigger, nicer houses, but none within walking distance from five espresso shops and three trendy ice cream stores.  When we picture our dream houses, we both picture my Dad’s house.  Everything was better living in this house.  We compared every house we bought to this house, and none of our future homes ever stood up to the test.  Besides, Ranch houses are a little light on character compared to anything else, especially compared to a well-built Craftsman.  People settle for Ranches in the ‘burbs.  People dream of 1918 Craftsman houses in Los Gatos. 

“The busy street?” I ask.  “Is that the reason?”

“Yeah,” Evan says.  “Your Dad’s wife has been complaining about it as long as I can remember.  Every time I visit she says she hates it.  I don’t mind.  It’s a better neighbor than screaming kids and barking dogs.”

“The only bad thing about living on this busy street,” Evan says, “Is you can’t paint the front of the house wearing pink boxers and ladies’ sunglasses unless you want to get beat up.  Otherwise, it’s perfect.

“I wish I could talk him out of it,” Evan says.  “I’d buy it if I had the money.”

At least he’s getting the opportunity to paint it one last time.  Then he’s going to have to find his own dream house.  I’m guessing he won’t feel the same way when we’re ready to sell our crappy Ranch.

A little help? [] 5:24:35 PM