An Act of Persuasion - By Stephanie Doyle Page 0,57
rational decision at the time now seemed very irrational. Probably, no, certainly, he’d completely overstepped his position in her life. Which might not have been a problem if he had actually died. It wasn’t like she could have called him out for it once he was buried. However, exposing himself like this, while still quite alive, was much more difficult.
“I bought you a house.”
Anna blinked. “You bought me a house?”
He held up the key he’d stuffed in his pocket before leaving his place. “Want to see it?”
“You bought me...a house?”
It was hard to interpret her tone. Disbelief was probably the most distinguishable emotion.
“I know. I’m not going to say it’s not a little crazy—”
“A little crazy? It’s insane! It’s a freaking house.” She waved her arms at him. “Ben, I told you I wasn’t ready for marriage and, all of the sudden, you rush out and buy us a house? Was I supposed to be happy that you’re trying to buy me off with real estate? Is this some kind of massive bribe? I get the house, you get the baby... Wait a minute. This doesn’t make any sense. You already have a house. If I said I wasn’t going to live with you there, what made you think I would change my mind about living with you here?”
“I don’t think that. This house isn’t for us. It’s for you. And I didn’t rush out and buy anything. I bought it months ago.”
Her jaw dropped and he could see her processing the information. He figured it would be better to have the discussion inside. He didn’t know if her neighbors were nosy, but there was no point in taking the chance. He was fairly certain this would turn into a raised-voices kind of a battle. He didn’t want her to set a bad first impression.
He walked up the driveway to the front door and unlocked it. The electricity and plumbing he’d kept on not wanting the house to be completely devoid of energy. He’d programmed the thermostat to keep the house at eighty degrees and automatic light switches that went on at timed intervals. While it was still stifling in the summer heat, it was at least bearable.
Wordlessly, she joined him in the foyer following him as he pointed out the empty rooms. “The living room, a smaller den. The dining room. The kitchen and great room straight back.”
She stopped and walked into the middle of the empty living room. Hardwood floors and newly painted white walls.
He could see her taking in the crown molding, the light fixtures and the number of outlets along the walls.
“I’d been by here a few times as they were being built to check them out. I had been thinking about getting something different for myself. Then the diagnosis came and obviously I had other priorities.”
“When. Exactly.”
It was a demand not a question. “After the results of the first round of chemo. I wanted to make sure you were set up...in case anything happened to me. I wanted you to have a place to go. Something that was yours and not mine. I didn’t imagine you would care for me leaving you my house, but I thought something new, that was yours alone would allow you to take it. I bought it outright. The deed is in your name.”
“It’s a house.”
“It’s your home if you want it to be. I thought about telling you when you let me know the lease was running out on your apartment, but I was afraid of how you would react then. Not going to lie, I’m still afraid of how you’re reacting now.”
She turned to him, lifting her arms up only to let them fall listlessly at her side. “You did this. For me. Because you thought you might die.”
“You said I didn’t think about you or notice you except for that night. You said I didn’t know you. But you’re wrong. I know what having a home meant to you. You talked about it frequently. You said mine was an architectural mess and that a real home should be comforting and embracing. When you talked about having a house your face would change. Like it was this mythical thing you couldn’t ever imagine actually owning. I never understood why that was. I would tell you all the time I could help you with a loan for a down payment and help you with arranging a first-time buyer mortgage you could easily afford. But you never seemed to want