Timing | Teen Ink

Timing

February 6, 2013
By PoeticHeart SILVER, Jacksonville, Florida
PoeticHeart SILVER, Jacksonville, Florida
7 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Smile, don’t frown. Tell them the house is wonderful; don’t mention the termites on the third floor. You have a dinner date at six with Charles; remember you want this marriage to work.
She kept repeating this to herself as she turned the corner to show the dining room. It was medium sized with excellent wood accents. There was a painting of a lion killing a lamb; she instructed the couple that they could sell it or keep it as a conversational piece. The young lady had told her her name was Sarah, but some reason she kept calling her Ashley.
Ashley is dead, this is Sarah. Sarah and Paul want this house.
She left them to roam the kitchen so she could take a bathroom break. Her eyes were starting to dim and her face was a little sweaty. She stood in the mirror for another minute, watching as her eyes followed the dirty reflection. She’d have to remember to call the maids once she sold this house.
Tell Paul and Ashley about the upgrades to this bathroom. Hurry and sell this house.
She decided to tie her hair into a ponytail; mother told her a girl meant business when she did this. The door clicked as she walked into the kitchen. Paul and Sarah were examining the cabinets. Paul groomed over the knobs, telling Sarah technical terms about how they could replace them if she didn’t like them.
“I really love this house, Paul. It’s fine the way it is.” Sarah looked over at him as she crossed to view the fridge. They turned to their realtor, who was lightly tapping her foot, looking around the room. Her smile was gone, Paul noted this.
“Is everything alright, Joan?” She didn’t recognize her own name. Its sound of the syllables were butchered and slumped its way to her eardrums. She turned her head robotically and bared her teeth to them. Paul reassuringly smiled back and went to look in the pantry.
“The only thing I’m not loving about this house is how small the second bathroom is. I was hoping to give Haley a big luxurious one.” Joan, being the aggressive realtor she was, caught this and began calculating the possibilities of knocking down the wall of the third room and renovating it to be an extension of the bathroom. She played the idea for them, which caused Sarah to squeal with delight. Paul only nodded, not really understanding why his ten year old would care.
“Can we get a moment?” Paul pulled Sarah to him. He wanted the house and Joan could see it in his eyes. Paul wanted to have this house to represent his success in life. It was one of the biggest, if not the biggest, in the county. She nodded and left the kitchen. She found herself standing near the staircase, her reflection staring back at her from the polished railing.
They’ll buy it and you can leave. Dinner is at six, fill out the paperwork around midnight; enjoy yourself tonight. You need this marriage to work.
She nodded, unaware that she was talking to herself again. She checked her phone for his messages, but there was nothing. There hadn’t been any in weeks. Tonight she would tell him that she did want to try again, she would touch his hand and smile like he loved. Joan knew she shouldn’t bring up his affair.
It’s 5:30. When they tell you they want it, rush them out and go. He’ll be waiting.
“Joan? We’ve come to an agreement.” Paul was touching her shoulder, but she couldn’t quite feel it. She turned and shined that smile on him. He could see the bitter edges of it, but kept his question to himself.
“We’d like to make an offer. She loves it.” He loved it too, but he would never show the excitement in front of his wife. Joan smiled wider this time, and began telling them how she’d have the paperwork in the morning. She told them she had plans, and they both smiled at her. They knew she hadn’t had plans in weeks.


The author's comments:
I was given a picture of a woman in class. She looked bored and unimpressed with life. I could see the borders around her face, which looked like a house. I began writing about her and then was told by my teacher that she was a realtor. Somehow, I came up with this, wanting to further the sketches of character was consumed me.

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