Senior Year Box Set

“Before you throw a hissy fit, this home is listed for $1.5 million. If it sells for full price, my side of the commission is $45,000. I’ll make twice that if I find the buyer.”

In our area, the realtor association held a breakfast each year where they recognized anyone who made over a million dollars in sales. Mom had told me that the majority of realtors didn’t sell that much. She’d brought home a plaque every year she’d been in the business, even the year she’d had cancer and hadn’t sold anything for nearly half the year. I realized this was a big deal for her, and the right thing to do was to be supportive.

“Of course I’ll help. When do they want the pictures taken?” I asked.

“How about now?” she answered, and wouldn’t look me in the eyes.

I chuckled and shook my head as I was sure there had to be more.

“What else is going on?” I asked.

“I need you to convince them to clean the place and declutter.”

Decluttering was basically picking up and packing away anything that didn’t need to be left out. Mom always said that if you were moving, you might as well start packing. She also wanted them to pack up any personal items like a wall of family pictures. Her reasoning was that people needed to see themselves living in the home, not to be reminded that it was someone else’s. I had no idea whether that helped, but she was the expert.

I called Wolf and bailed on them. They gave me some grief, but they understood when I told them my mom needed help with work.

We drove to a neighborhood that had newer, upscale homes. The listing was down the street from where Pam had lived. The owners were a couple with two boys who were under ten. I suspect my mom set me up because they were huge fans. I was a little surprised they’d seen Star Academy since it was rated PG-13 for violence.

As I walked through the house, I pointed out what needed to be picked up based on what Mom had shared with me. Most of it was toys, clothes, and the like. Mom told me later that the kitchen and laundry room had been cleaned since she was there earlier this afternoon.

Using the boys as my assistants, we quickly were ready to shoot the house. I found that big open floor plans were much easier to shoot than a smaller ranch home. I talked their dad into taking them to get some ice cream so I could shoot the video.

Mom’s camera on her phone did a good job. She explained that by using her phone, it looked more realistic than shooting it with a higher-end video camera. I shot one with my camera, which had a video option. I wanted to compare them in class tomorrow. Mom needed the video to get the listing on her website and put onto the MLS so other realtors would be able to see it. The MLS then would send it out to the world, and it would be on all the real estate websites by morning.

On the way home, I wanted to talk to my mom about doing this in the future.

“You didn’t really need me to shoot the pictures, did you?” I asked.

“No, but they wanted the prestige of you doing it. I’ll have Megan send them signed publicity shots tomorrow. The boys will love it,” she explained.

“Okay, two things. First, I understand why you wanted me today. That is a nice listing. If you could give me a little more lead time, I would appreciate it.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry for the short notice.”

“Mom, if you need me, I’ll help you out. Second is, I don’t really want the money. Could you have them write checks to one of the charities instead? That way, they get to write it off their taxes, and I have another reason to do it.”

“That makes perfect sense.”

“I’d bet that they might be willing to cut even bigger checks, and you can advertise that a portion of the sale is going to charity. It might not sell the home, but it could get you some foot traffic through the house,” I said.

◊◊◊

Brook and Cassidy showed up for dinner. Peggy looked wiped out, so I told her I would take care of the boys tonight.

“Do you plan to drive to Michigan and Ohio State after the game Friday?” Brook asked while we were eating.

“This is an unofficial visit, so we have to pay for transportation,” Dad said. “Yes, we plan to drive.”

“You do realize that it’s over five hours to Michigan and then four hours to Ohio State? From Ohio State, it’s another five hours of driving to get back here. Do you really want to be in a car for fourteen to fifteen hours?” Brook asked.

I looked at Dad and then Mom. She gave me a little smirk. Mom was the only smart one. We might not get to Michigan until three in the morning if our game ran long.

“Tell me you have a solution to our dilemma,” I said to Brook.

“The flight training school trains pilots of all abilities. They told me that if you would agree to use the flights as training, they would just make you pay for fuel, airport fees, room, and board. Roy said he would also like to get tickets to the game.”

Roy Tyro was her instructor at Lincoln Flight School.

“I thought they didn’t allow passengers on training flights,” I said.