I was actually singing along by the time we reached the outskirts of Atlanta and the Perimeter. At that point Tom slowed down until his car was alongside ours. Erin waved and blew kisses from the passenger seat, while the girls behind me shouted and waved goodbye. Then Tom sped up, and they continued down I-85 with Mark and Leah toward their house in Midtown. Trip and I peeled off and followed I-285 to Alpharetta and a hotel, our home in between homes for the next week.
* * *
In the morning I called the realtor, a woman named Penny Powell.
“Yes! Leah’s friends. You’re moving from Boston, right? She said you might give us a call.”
“That’s us.” I mentioned that Trip and Wren were looking as well. Then I told her what kind of houses and neighborhoods we were interested in.
“Wow,” she gushed, “that’s a lot more information than I usually get.”
“We’re architects. And we used to build houses.”
“That explains it,” she laughed. Then she paused to review her notes. “Hold on, Whitman and Hughes? Architects? Don’t you guys own a company…?”
“Used to,” I said with suppressed bitterness. “A few years ago. But yeah, that was us.”
“I just sold one of your houses!” She told me the address.
“Yep. The Greek Revival in Buckhead. If you don’t mind me asking, how much did it sell for?”
She told me.
“Oh, wow. The market’s up.”
“Strong economy,” she said. “And it’s a beautiful house.”
“Thank you.”
We chatted for a few minutes longer and arranged a time to meet her and her husband, who was also a realtor.
“We have our kids with us,” I said before we hung up. “Okay to bring them?”
“Sure! We have a little play area here in the office.”
“Perfect, thanks. We’ll see you then.”
“Great! See you then.”
We arrived a couple of hours later and introduced ourselves.
Penny looked exactly like she sounded on the phone, a former cheerleader, although she was the tall version instead of the pixie. She’d probably been a bleach-blonde back in the eighties, but her hair was more natural now, a darker blonde with highlights from a salon instead of a bottle. I suspected that her body had gone through a similar change over time, the skinny girl who’d become an attractive thirty-something woman.
Kurt was dark-haired and handsome, quiet only by comparison. He was the base of the pyramid, the platform that supported her rah-rah energy. Penny was about my height, while Kurt topped six feet by several inches. He had a boyish face and a tan that rivaled Christy’s. He was outgoing and friendly as well, but Penny was clearly the dominant one.
I thought about what Leah had said, that they might be interested in swinging. I hadn’t told Wren and Trip, but I glanced at Christy.
Well, what do you think? I asked.
I like them. My radar hasn’t gone off, but… She shrugged and left the decision up to me.
I wasn’t in a rush. Besides, we needed to find a place to live first.
We started with listings on the computer. Trip and Wren looked at the one on Kurt’s desk, while Christy and I did the same with Penny. We narrowed them down to a half-dozen promising ones, and Penny printed them for us to look at back at the hotel.
“We’ll start making calls,” she said, and Kurt nodded. “We should be able to see them all tomorrow. Do you want us to arrange day care for your kids?”
“Absolutely!” Trip said, which earned a tight smile of irritation from Wren.
“No, but thanks,” I said. Trip looked at me like I was crazy, so I explained, “Erin and Leah offered to watch them. They’re going to come to the hotel and hang out by the pool.”
“Whatever,” Trip said. “As long as we don’t have to haul them around all day.”
Wren’s nostrils flared and she wanted to pinch him. He didn’t notice, which was probably for the best. Penny watched everything and smiled. Then, like a good negotiator, she changed the subject.
“No problem,” she said. “Do you want to look at them together?”
“Or divide and conquer?” Kurt finished seamlessly.
“Divide and conquer?” Trip asked me. “It’d be faster that way.”
“Sure.”
“Okay,” Penny said with bubbling enthusiasm, “we’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
Penny and Kurt greeted us with a tray of pastries when we arrived at their office. Christy systematically devoured a danish and then a bear claw, while the rest of us made small talk about plans for the day. Penny’s eyebrows rose with amusement when Christy unfolded a paper napkin and piled it with two doughnuts and another bear claw.
“Second breakfast,” I explained with a completely straight face. “She’s a hobbit.”
Wren rolled her eyes but smiled fondly.
“Sorry, inside joke,” I added for Penny’s benefit. She and Kurt hadn’t been nerds in high school. “Anyway, we’re ready when you are.”
Kurt headed out with Trip and Wren, while Christy and I rode with Penny. We looked at houses, yards, and neighborhoods for nearly six hours. Alpharetta hadn’t changed much in the three years we’d been gone.
Penny, however, grew steadily more friendly with each house. At first I thought it was just her personality, but then I realized that she and Kurt must have been interviewing us, exactly like we were doing to them. I didn’t actually use the word “swinger,” but I dropped a couple of hints and said we’d like to get to know them better after we moved.
“We were thinking the same thing,” she said easily. “We live nearby, and our kids’re about the same age.”
We eventually returned to the office and met up with the others. Trip and Wren couldn’t decide between two houses. One was in the same neighborhood as the house that Christy and I had decided on, while the other was several miles away.
“Well, that settles it,” Wren said.
“What?” Trip said. “No, it doesn’t.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” she told him.
“No,” he sighed, “you’re right.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I laughed. “Who’re you, and what’ve you done with the real Trip?”
“What?” He actually managed to sound wounded. “I can change my mind.”
“Yeah, but never without a fight.”
“I change it all the time. Besides, Wren’s right. I mean, we’re only going to live there for a couple of years.” He turned to her and added, “Yeah, I like that bonus room in the first house, but the yard’s better at the second. Besides, Paul can design me a real studio in the new house.”
“Write that down,” Wren said to me.
“What? Studio in the new house? Or Trip said you’re right?”
“Both!”
* * *
We quickly adjusted to life in Atlanta. Our new house wasn’t as nice as the one we’d owned before, but it was good enough for the time being. Besides, it was several times larger than the apartment in Boston, with plenty of room for everyone.
We went shopping for cars, and I found a late-model Toyota Land Cruiser. It was twenty years newer and far nicer than the one I’d had in college. Now it was a luxury model instead of an off-road workhorse. I didn’t mind the change, but I had to remind myself not to treat it like I had in the past.
We started shopping for Christy next. She wanted a convertible, and a new one at that.
“I can afford it,” she insisted. “I have my money from Nana.”
“It doesn’t matter. You need something more practical. You can’t haul the girls in a convertible.”
“Can too.”
We didn’t exactly fight about it, but she dug in her heels. I finally decided to prove it to her, so I took her to the Mercedes dealership. The girls were part of my plan, so we loaded them into the Cruiser and brought them with us.