Sisters

“How much?” That was an important factor for her. The realtor told her, and Sabrina wanted to whistle again, but this time because it was so cheap. It was less expensive than her current apartment, and she could easily have paid half the rent or all of it, and she only had to pay a quarter, since her father had agreed to pay half of their rent for Annie, to help them out. “Why so cheap?”

“He doesn't care about the money. He just wants to know that there are nice people in his house. He doesn't want to leave it empty for a year. His kids don't want to live there. One lives in Santa Fe and the other one in San Francisco. He tried to get someone to housesit for him, and he couldn't. He doesn't want people giving wild parties, or trashing it. It's a cute little house, and he wants to come back and find it in good shape. He set the price, and I told him he could get twice that, but he doesn't care. If you're interested, you'd better see it quick. I don't think it will be on the market for long. People are away this week because of the holiday, but as soon as other brokers get wind of it, I think it will get snapped up. He only put it on the market last week. I think she died two months ago.” Poor guy. Sabrina felt sorry for him. Losing their mother had taught her a lot about the impact of losing someone you loved.

“I'm not sure my sister could manage all those stairs. But she might. It wouldn't be as easy as an apartment, especially with the kitchen in the basement. But I'd really like to see it. I like everything else about it.” And it was still within walking distance of Chris. Not quite as close as her current apartment, but close enough.

“Is your sister handicapped?” the realtor asked, and Sabrina caught her breath. It was the first time she'd been asked, but yes, now she was.

“Yes,” she said, measuring her words. “She's blind.” It was hard saying the word.

“That shouldn't be a problem,” the agent said matter-of-factly. “My cousin is blind. He lives in a fourth-floor walk-up in Brooklyn, and he manages fine. Does she have a seeing-eye dog?”

“Uh … not at the moment, but she might.” She didn't want to tell her that it had just happened only days before. It was too hard to talk about.

“I'm sure he wouldn't mind. He has an English sheepdog, and I think his wife had a dachshund. He didn't say anything about not wanting dogs. He just wants good tenants who'll pay the rent and take care of his house.” She knew Sabrina was an attorney, financially solvent, and had had good references before. That was all they needed to know. “When can you see it?”

“Not till Monday.” They were taking Annie's bandages off the next day, and it was going to be a traumatic weekend. Sabrina needed to be around. “I could come into town for a few hours.”

“I hope it holds till then.” Sabrina hated the way real estate agents did that. They always made you feel as though you were about to miss the deal of your life if you didn't snatch it up within the hour.

“I might be able to get in on Sunday afternoon, but not before that.” She didn't want to leave Annie the day her bandages came off. There was no way she was going to abandon her now. They had forbidden all the nurses on the floor to discuss Annie's blindness in her presence.

“I guess Monday will be all right. I think he said he was going away for the weekend, so no one else can get in to see it. Ten o'clock?”

“That sounds fine.” She gave Sabrina the address, and she said she'd check to see if there was anything else before they met on Monday, but she said again that if Sabrina didn't mind a brownstone, she thought this might be the one. And the price was so good. It didn't have the security most young women wanted, with a doorman, but you couldn't have everything, she pointed out, and then added that houses and apartments were like romance. You either fell in love or you didn't. She hoped Sabrina would.

She told Tammy and Candy about it when she got off the phone. Their project was taking form, if the house was really any good. And it sounded perfect. It was almost too good to be true.

“Wait until you see it before you get excited,” Tammy warned her. “I must have seen forty houses before I found mine. You can't believe how awful some people's houses are, or the conditions in which they're willing to live. The black hole of Calcutta was a palazzo compared to some of the hovels I saw. I was really lucky to find mine.”