Page 67 of The New Place

They both want? Ned slowly stands when she does. He just wants to move out of his parents’ someday. And Abbot?

Abbot’s helping him, Ned tries to remember. This is about Newbury and how very serious they are about each other. Proving they’re moving toward a shared future.

Beverly luckily never said they have to have figured out exactly what that looks like.

16

NED

Ned’s car looks drab as they walk back to it. He hadn’t noticed that when they’d arrived in a hurry. They should have taken Abbot’s to the Realtor’s, but Ned knows these streets better.

At least his car is nicer than what he used to drive, but he suddenly feels like it screams car payment to these high-end offices. When his old car had finally died last spring, he’d bought this one pre-owned, that word that stands in so tactfully for used.

There’s dog hair in it too, and Ned picks a piece off of Abbot’s thigh when it drifts down to settle there, like it’s aiming straight for his pristine suit pants. “That was fun,” Ned says. Three million? he wants to ask, but his voice would be high and shrill, he’s sure. “Let’s go back to the idea of just taking Steve’s grandma’s house.” Well, Abbot can go back to that idea. The best Ned could trade him is a stained cape and more dog hair.

“Did he show you a listing?”

“He was joking.” I was too, he waits for Abbot to say, but it doesn’t come, so Ned just keeps talking. “And I actually have no idea where it is. I don’t think he mentioned specifically.”

“It could be worth looking at.”

“Sure,” Ned agrees and then can’t come up with anything else to say that isn’t half shouting Three million dollars?

In the quiet, both of their phones buzz. Abbot pulls his out and Ned turns the car on, dialing the heat up high.

“She sent the form,” Abbot says.

Ned leans over, glancing at it on the small screen. Name is already filled out for both of them. Budget, reads the next line.

Ned puts the car in drive, checking over his shoulder so he doesn’t have to look if Abbot types into the little box. “Yeah,” he says as normally as he can. “Do you want to fill that out, or I can? I have some time later.”

“It’s not long. We can do it now,” Abbot says.

“Great.” Ned nods and flicks on his signal. He doesn’t need to. The road is empty. Budget? he steels himself for Abbot to ask.

It’s pretend. They can fill in whatever they want. Three million or thirty. Hell, they’ll just buy a city block while they’re at it. Purchase an entire neighborhood.

“Single-family home,” Abbot says slowly, a question in his voice, and he’s apparently gone and skipped the money question entirely.

“As opposed to what?” Ned asks and tries not to sound relieved.

“A condo?”

“Oh. Yeah, no condo fees, thanks.”

“It’s not my preference either.”

Good, so they can agree on that, at least. Ned takes a turn and flips down the visor to block the low winter sun.

“And the yard for Baxter,” Abbot says.

And our fictional kids Sandy signed us up for, Ned could joke. He doesn’t. They should talk about the kid thing at some point, but what is there to say? Yeah, Ned would have another kid, someday, but kids are expensive and he needs to figure out this job thing now, for the kid he currently has. “Sounds great,” he says. “And whatever for bedrooms.”

“Is more than two alright?”

“Sure. I mean, we don’t need the space right now, so just fill it out with what you want.”

“She wants to know what we both want.”