The one

Rocks crunch underneath as Samuel and Isabelle thunder down the wet gravel road of Washington Court. And despite the inevitable, Samuel still clings to the hope of a lazy Sunday morning at his local café.

 “Bunny, all I’m saying is that we’re tired. Can’t we give this house a miss?”

“I am tired…” her voice squeaks, “but this could be The One.” Isabelle is relentless in her quest.

They pull into number fifteen and see two cars leave. Isabelle grips Samuel’s hand, her manicured nails latching on like a cat.

“It’s popular! I knew this was the one.”

He extracts his hand and turns off the ignition. “Stay calm and remember our list.” From her dreamy look he knows that his words have sailed right over her.

Ignoring the rain, she strides inside. Samuel hurries behind, removing his shoes first.

“Welcome,” a suited woman extends her hand and Isabelle sniffs in disdain. “I’m Diana. Can I get you to fill in some details?”

“My fiancé will do that,” Isabelle waves her hand dismissively. Diana passes the pen and Samuel smiles, meeting her gaze. The blue of Diana’s eyes bore through him and Samuel’s cheeks heat as her return smile gently dissolves his integrity.

Doors and cupboards bang open and close. Isabelle is calling. Covert glances to Samuel suggest Diana understands, and she gestures for him to follow.

They reach the kitchen.

“I want to see if gran’s buffet will fit on that wall. Measure it Sammy.”

He extracts his tape measure and obliges. Diana describes the features of the house and her soft husky voice is a stark contrast to Isabelle’s cockatoo pitch.

Samuel throws questioning wide eyes at Isabelle when the price is revealed. Like a full balloon, their inflating budget is near bursting. Her lips purse in response. He keeps quiet.

Isabelle’s gasps of joy increase with every room they view while Samuel, trailing strategically behind, enjoys the view of Diana’s swinging hips.

“Sammy,” Isabelle’s eyebrows thread together and her mouth forms an O. “For da baby.” Her voice has taken on a childish impediment as she stands in the centre of a pale yellow room.

“Perfect.” Diana agrees.

“We’re not expecting,” Samuel clarifies. “Just planning.”

Isabelle pouts.

They’ve explored the inside but it is too wet to look in the yard.

“It’s filthy outside.” Isabelle scowls as she watches the rain.

Diana raises an eyebrow and Samuel looks for a solution. His eyes land on the umbrella hanging from the coat hooks. A little cheeky; it belongs to the house, but valiantly Samuel takes it and opens it up. Isabelle looks at Diana with a smug smile as he escorts her through the deluge.

Samuel returns and Diana stands back allowing him to step in close to her. After shaking off the water, he slowly replaces the umbrella. As he begins to thank her she reaches for his hand. Her fingers linger on his before she hands him her card.
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“Call me.” Her blue eyes twinkle.
 
Photo by Tierra Mallorca on Unsplash