Once we asked that fateful question, “Why not now?” we left the meeting with a tantalizing sense of adventure. We figured it would take six to twelve months to research the possibilities, but the project soon became irresistible: Internet searches, classified ads, real estate open houses, drive-bys. All were excellent ways to consider what we really wanted in a house.
At first we were oddly pessimistic. For some reason, we doubted that we could find a suitable house in our suburban Pittsburgh hometown, where we wanted to remain for the near-term. We assumed that a potential move was many months away and not at all a certainty. While it still didn’t seem real, our shared “daydream” grew increasingly more vivid.
We envisioned the details, considering each person’s needs. Because Karen and Jean each need a home office, we would have to find a fairly large yet affordable house. They both like to cook and require an efficient kitchen; Louise needs a niche for her piano and sheet music. All of us like to entertain, so ample space in the communal living areas is a must. Three bathrooms, and parking for three automobiles: mandatory. A pretty yard would be a plus.
Love at first sight.
More questions emerged. Should we consider an older home that needed work? Should we choose a more interesting house in a less desirable location to save money? We visited a few real estate open houses over the course of three weeks; none measured up to our dream of the ideal communal living space.
That is, not until one Sunday evening.
As we drove by some houses that were remote possibilities, we made a random left turn when Louise spontaneously said, “Let’s drive down Shadowlawn. I’ve been there before visiting a friend and it is a beautiful neighborhood.”
And there it was, a lovely 1930s brick colonial house with a small “For Sale by Owner” sign in a tree-filled front yard. We could hardly believe our eyes. We immediately used a cell phone to call the number on the sign. No answer. We started to drive away, when Jean spied someone sitting on the side porch.
She popped out of the car and almost shouted, “Can we see your house?” When the surprised owners ushered us in, we entered with great anticipation. Not wanting to inconvenience them, we briefly explained our atypical situation. Mary, the owner, smiled as she said, “I think this house will work very nicely for you.”
And, incredibly, it met every one of our requirements.
This old but charming three-story, five-bedroom home had three and a half baths, thus meeting everyone’s office and privacy needs. We noted the serviceable kitchen, the large living room with wood-burning fireplace (with gas starter for convenience) and built-in bookcases for all our collections. The house had a big-enough dining room and small sunroom with a bay window overlooking the wooded back yard.
Adding to the charm were the original woodwork and hardwood floors, though dark from age and scuffed by dog claws. The remodeled basement game room was an added attraction that would provide space for guests and a play area for Jean’s grandson, then-three-year-old Seth. The two-car garage and deep driveway offered ample parking space. Of particular interest, the second floor and the finished attic were configured into two suites (each with bedroom, office and full bath) and a large master bedroom with full bath.
During the tour, the three of us exchanged meaningful glances but not one word until, as we left, Karen stunned Jean and Louise by looking the owner in the eye and saying, “We would seriously like to consider making an offer on your house.”
As we got back into the car, practically giddy, we shouted to each other, “This is it! It’s perfect. I wonder if we can afford it? Karen, I can’t believe you said that to the owner!”
We quickly calculated and realized that, best of all, the asking price was less than the total we were paying individually for our modest single dwellings.
Karen: “Forget the flipcharts.”
Jean: “Now it’s real.”
Louise: “Did I really say that I liked living alone?”
Beardsley: “Four toilets to drink out of.”
Suddenly, we were putting together personal financial statements and consulting with professionals to make an offer on a wonderful house that met all of our criteria for communal living.
I took a step back. Do I really want to live with these two people for the foreseeable future? How much do I value my independence? Would I actually have more independence if I could share the responsibilities of maintaining a home?
How would they feel about my three-year-old grandson visiting, as I am the only grandmother? Could I make an appropriate financial contribution to such an arrangement? Would I be able to hold my own with two other very strong-minded women?
Then again, why should all three of us continue the financial and maintenance burdens for three separate houses when we could have a home that none of us could individually afford?
I answered the questions and knew this was an opportunity I could not pass up. Here was a chance to live in a beautiful home with two good friends whom I respect and trust. So, with some trepidation, I joined the others in one of the most stressful two-month periods of our lives.
