Open House
Man, this will be fun, I thought. I can't wait !
“Welcome to Rancho Hills,” the pretty redheaded sales rep said, interrupting my private conversation. “Have you two been here before?”
“No,” I replied, staring at dozens of toy house models under a large glass table. Red “Sold Out” magnets covered at least ninety percent of the mini-homes, which was typical for a new housing development in Northern California.
“What's the square footage of your largest house?” my wife Diane asked.
“Plan three is a 3,680 square-foot, four-bedroom, our largest model.” The rep pointed to a corner table. An older woman stood next to the table with a wide customer service smile. “We have brochures with the info you need.”
The older woman handed us two brochures. “Thank you,” I said. I tapped Diane's elbow, turned, and then pushed the glass door that led to the three models.
The older woman held the door for us. “Just a reminder, we'll be closing in fifteen minutes.”
“Ok,” Diane said, slipping her hand into mine. “We'll be back soon.”
My wife pulled me away. Outside, we double-timed past the first two models. The hem of Diane's white summer dress bounced against her ample backside, her dark-brown legs as smooth as buttermilk.
“Slow down, babe.” I said, laughing. “What about the other models?”
She didn't turn. “Don't have much time. Gotta hurry.”
I stared at the Spanish Colonial-styled mansion with multi-colored concrete tiles for a roof. It definitely had a trendy, MTV Cribs look. Very nice.
As we stepped up the curvy entryway, I noticed the sectional garage doors and thought how perfect it would be to have separate spots for our rides.
“Nice, huh?” Diane said, now standing near the entrance. The raised panel door stood at least ten feet high.
“Yup. Can't wait to see the inside.”
She pushed at the door. To my surprise, classic jazz welcomed us. We stepped inside and admired the marble tile. Central air-conditioning cooled us from the ninety-degree summer heat. more >>
