Flitting Part Four: Closing

After the breakneck speed of the househunting trip in March, things slowed all the way down to a crawl. The sort of crawl you’d get from a tortoise with three legs going through a mile of molasses. That’s how’d I describe our time with the mortgage company we had the misfortune of dealing with.

It’s probably like that with all of them but it felt like the miscreants we had to work with were specially trained to maximize aggravation and anxiety. We began the punishingly slow process of going from pre-approval to real approval almost the precise moment we got back from our adventures upstate. Every time we were told there was nothing left to do, we’d find out that there was, in fact, another thing to do. We had to wait until 4:52 on deadline day to get confirmation it was going ahead. But that only put into motion a whole lot of other things we had to do. Writing about them is even less fun than reading about them so let’s jump ahead to the good part. We got our closing date a few days after our initial date of April 16th.

That put into motion a rather speedy move. For me, that wasn’t much of a problem, I was pretty much done in about 17 minutes. Everything I need for work can be packed into the box I judiciously saved. A couple more boxes were sufficient for the rest of my worldly goods. Levy being Levy didn’t put a halt to her business until the day before the move so her final day was spent packing.

Our final run-through for the house was Monday so we booked a hotel from Sunday to Wednesday, it was already going to be the most expensive week of our lives, so really, what was another night in the grand scheme of things? As always, our main concern was the cats. We’ve already been through one huge move with them, this was nothing in comparison. We bought a big carrier for Hokke and Momo to go along with the small one which Sunny’s fuller figure just about squeezed into.

Before we were even a mile out, Sunny began a torrent of meows without end. Hokke, ever the protective brother, began to meow too which in turn prompted Momo to chime in. It only ended when we stopped and put Sunny’s carrier on my lap.

(Hubs took this photo. That's Sunny and her heavy carrier on his lap where she stayed for the majority of the 5 hour trip.)

We passed through the same route we traveled in March except it was a lot warmer this time around. It was peaceful save for the intermittent yowling from the carriers. It was still light when we made it to the hotel. The place was pet-friendly but we didn’t mention there’d be three of them so we only took Sunny to sign in and whisked the other two up through a side entrance. They poked around their temporary home for a while before falling asleep on the luggage, the smell was presumably comforting to them.

We were exhausted and fell asleep pretty quickly, just as abruptly we were woken by the three cats decided that 2 am was a perfect time to chase each other around the room while yowling loud enough to be heard from space. If the hotel wasn’t aware of the extra cats before, they were now.

I got through a few things at work, the great thing about writing for a living is you can do it anywhere, but our minds were definitely elsewhere until it was time to do the last run-through before closing. When the GPS announced the name of our street, Levy got a bit emotional, when we pulled up outside and heard ‘welcome home’ for the first time, Levy blinked away a few tears.

All was well with the house and we took a walk around the block afterward to get some food from, where else? Wegmans. The cats were asleep when we returned to the hotel, all cuddled up and cute, so of course they waited until the dead of the night to start up again. Another largely sleepless night passed and the big day was upon us. Closing.

I got through some work, barely, and we made our way to the bank to print out the biggest check we’d ever signed. Years of savings, personal austerity, and feeling like a lot of our life was on pause, was all for this. We were to close at a real estate attorney’s office and arrived early. We were supposed to meet our lawyer who’d we only spoken to on the phone by this point. I pictured a career-focused woman in her thirties but a much older, rail-thin woman in a short dress and open toe shoes stooped into the building. It was our lawyer’s mother.

She too was a lawyer and one who’d probably been practicing since LBJ was in office. Her daughter had been held up due to some childcare issue so she was filling in for her. Fair enough, what were we going to say to that? No? Postpone? I’d have taken Lionel Hutz if it meant getting this thing done.

I’ve already forgotten mother lawyer’s name, I think it began with E. Anway, Erica, or was it Elizabeth? Liked to talk. A lot. Every single piece of paper was met with some quip which meant a lot of little jokey comments. Now in normal circumstances, I’d just do that tight-lipped polite smile and try to move things along. But this was closing in a pandemic, there are no tight-lipped polite smiles when you’re wearing a mask. There was also a dog in the next room and Edwina/Erin was really really keen to pet the dog. I half-wonder if this whole thing was just a ruse to visit the dog she’d told us about in the waiting room. It was a pretty cute dog to be fair.

After about an hour, a forest’s worth of paper, and many failed attempts to eye-smile, it was over, it was done. Except Eva was regaling us with a story about a shooting that had happened in the town we were moving to. Thirty years ago. Maybe when you’re older, not that long ago feels the same way the early 2000s feel to me now. I normally don’t mind hearing stories, I tell them for a living after all, but I could only think: can we please just close on the house now? I think the paralegal across from us was thinking the same. We finally bid Ellie goodbye and rushed off to get our keys.

Going back up the road to our house. I love the way that looks so I’m going to write it again but in italics. Our house. Levy got emotional again, a little whimper from the name of our street and when the GPS announced “welcome home” it was met with Levy saying “oh stop” which is what she says when she sees something cute or that makes her happy. Like closing on a house.

Our house.

We didn’t actually stay there that night because we’d already paid for the hotel and the bulk of our things were arriving later. On the drive back Levy cried tears of happiness, it was a moment of unbridled joy. Everything we’d worked for the past year had been for this. One last night in the hotel and then home. For good.

Would the cats permit us at least one decent night’s sleep in the hotel that was a long way from cheap? No.

The following day we spent a long time just taking it all in. The cats settled in after about five minutes, with Sunny quickly finding a favorite perch by the window. Most of our things aren’t here yet but they’ll come soon. After years of essentially living out of a suitcase, having a place to settle feels good.