Giving Him a Piece of His Heart Back

      With a sense of direction I feel I’d been missing for some time, I cruise down the highway in Illinois in my rental, black SUV. Yesterday I was wallowing in my fatigue on the couch after a 10 hour day at the office. Now the picture looks different: sunglasses, one suited arm hanging casually out the window, belongings packed neatly into suitcases next to me.

I’m used to salads to-go on my lunch breaks, meetings in the conference room, and data entry. When my boss, Mr. Valentine called me late last night, it felt like an offer I couldn’t refuse.  

           My boss subleased a condo for me, and it’s right in the heart of Chicago. The high stakes driving and buzz of city life greeted me with vigor as I arrived.

           I was told there would be a key left under the doormat, but no such luck. I’m tired from travel and try the door handle. To my satisfaction, it pushes open.

           The apartment is open concept and flooded with light, and is the perfect place for me to land. I drag my luggage into the center of the lofted living room right next to the brown leather sofa. I immediately find the bathroom, strip down and get under the rainfall shower.

           Unpacking and changing into something comfortable, I hear a knock at the door.

           “One moment—” I call, as I pull up my joggers and slide my Big Bend T-Shirt over my head.

           I open the door to a woman “Hi, I’m Elise, the developer interested in the land.”

           I feel underdressed but try to take it from here. “Hi Elise—Max with Menslinger Realty. Come on in, I’ll pour us a drink.”

           “Thank you,” she says and takes a few steps into the apartment. As I am shuffling in my sweatpants towards the bachelor’s kitchen complete with LEDs at this twilight hour, Elise calls after me. “Mr. Valentine told me you had arrived in town, and that you were staying here. I wanted to make it very clear that I am interested in the land and thought we could talk numbers first.”

           I walk back with two modest glass cups of liquor and hand one to Elise.

           “Is this whiskey?” Elise relaxes into the brown leather sofa, her briefcase tumbling from her grasp against the side. She sniffs the glass. “Good.”

           “So, ten acres of land in a prime attraction location in Northern Illinois. I figure we can take a drive up there tomorrow and take a tour of the land. The owner is asking 545.” I drive to the point, as it seems that’s exactly what she is looking for.

           Elise downs the whiskey in one long sip. “In a prime attraction location—” she repeats. “But the land isn’t ‘prime’ for agricultural purposes—I have my work cut out for me.”

           I hesitate—“I think I was misinformed—I thought your intentions with the land were residential..?”

           “They are. I’m going to be building a single family house on a farm.”

           “Oh? I see, I think the owner had the notion that it was going to be of the multi-family housing complex sort—I’ll just need to give him a call and reevaluate.”

           I look down at my watch: 9:30PM. Elise waits. “You know,” I start. “He doesn’t answer his phone past 8:00PM, but I will definitely get ahold of him tomorrow.”

           Elise nods, “This project is really important to me. 545 is steep for the work to be done to the land to make it suitable for farming. You can tell him the highest I will go is 500.”

           “I am sure Mr. Valentine would consider such an offer under the stipulations. I’ll be sure to relay this first thing tomorrow morning.”

           There is such a thing in the sales profession to feel trapped by your clients, and a struggle holding boundaries with people who feel entitled to your time. This isn’t one of those times, I wish there were a reason for her to stay.

           Elise sets her empty glass on the bar cart that I didn’t even notice was there. “Well, I look forward to touring the land with you tomorrow. I will let you settle in,” she looks around at the luxurious apartment and turns around to leave.

           “Is the farm house for you?” I call after her.

           “No—it’s for my father.” She shoots a look back at me, a hint of sunshine peaking through a bulletproof glass exterior. Now, this is a woman who handles business, and her decisions remain elegant and meaningful. She’s intriguing and I am anticipating spending the day with her tomorrow.

           “Oh, you dropped something!” I bend and pick up the piece of paper that had fallen out of her briefcase—a sketch. A light handed, detailed, perfectly scaled rendering of a white house on a farm, with kids running in the fields, horses in stride, flowers hanging from the porch crown molding and a swing next to the front door.

           I get the hint of blush on her cheeks as she meets me to take back the drawing. “Thanks.”

           “You have a beautiful vision,” I say.

           Our eyes meet with an arresting, sudden intensity and I feel drawn to her.

           Her eyes falter and roam around again, “Well, I should probably go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~

           As soon as we arrive, Elise has us driving around in the company-rented golf car stopping frequently. She gets out each time, feels the soil and performs a few tests. I don’t mind. The pantsuit is for yesterday; Elise is transformed in her cargo shorts, battered yellow sun-printed T-shirt and hair wrapped up in a red patterned scarf.

           I don’t pressure Elise to give me her findings, but she finally reveals in her slight giggle after getting back in the golf cart after the fourteenth stop.

           “It’s good?” I ask with a chuckle.

           “Yes, but don’t tell your boss that—” she shoots me a look with a corner of her mouth upturned.

           “I’d call that a conflict of interest.” I say, returning her smirk.

           “Let’s be clear now, whose interests are conflicting?” she asks.

           I am still working to get a read on Elise, so I say with a hand to my chest, “I won’t say anything.” What I wanted to say was the job I am here for, and my interest in you. Even so, again, I don’t mind.

           “There’s a decent slope in the land, and that has it’s pros and cons anyways,” Elise adds.

           She surveys the land as we drive the boundary and we go over zoning and other details.

           “Did your boss respond to my offer? It’ll be in cash.” Elise states.

           “He said he won’t go lower than 525, but 500 in cash will change things.” I respond.

           “Good. See what he says,” she pauses, nodding to herself.

           “What does your father think of all this? This is major.”

           She looks at me and again, her façade falters.  “He’s grateful. I think it means more to me than him.”

           “What does it mean to you?”

           “He lost our farm when we were young—money wasn’t coming in. I knew how much he loved it. He thrived on that farm, and ever since he hasn’t been the same, like he was taken out of his natural habitat. I just want that back for him,” Elise says.

           “You’re giving him a piece of his heart back.” I say. “That drawing you made—that looks like a house full of love.”

           She ponders, “This is the kind of thing I do for a living, and it’s what I love. But to be able to do something like this reminds me that life is not all about work. To love and to give back—that’s really all it’s about.”

           I feel a clenching in my stomach, as the feelings of disillusionment with my life are creeping up. “Meeting you reminds me of that as well,” a soft smile plays on my lips.

~

           We meet for dinner to finalize the deal, and she arrives to our table, a stunning image. Ethereal, she’s dressed in a simple, rich grey dress.

           “You have a beautiful vision, but tonight, you are the vision,” I flirt, standing up briefly to pull out her chair.

           “You are looking very handsome yourself,” Elise slides into her chair, smoothing her dress.

           This is a business relationship, and I normally am rigid enough to never consider flirting with a client. Something about this day with Elise has changed things.

           “Now, the deal. I have some great news for you,” my face likely shares the news before I do. “The owner accepts your offer of 500 cash. The land is yours for your father’s homestead.”

           Her stubbornly stern face brightens with the news. A great smile shows itself, and I vicariously reminisce in the feeling that she has. The feeling when you plant seeds in the right places. “Cheers!” she holds her glass of whiskey out.

           “Cheers,” I hold my drink to hers and hold her gaze. “Congratulations. I can’t wait to see what you do.”

           “I am going to start with having it cleared and graded, then start getting the proper permits in motion—This is going to be a lot of work, but it means the world to me.”

           “That’s all that matters, then.” Her take on life is in the air like incense. “I filled out all the documents, now we just go through them and sign.”

           We finalize the purchase agreement and other paperwork.

           Finally, she looks up and says, “I really liked the whiskey back at your apartment. What do you think?”

           I smile obligingly. “I think let’s continue the celebration.”

           When we get back to the apartment, I expect the door to push open, but it doesn’t. I didn’t lock it, but I still don’t have a key. I check the time: 7:50. I call Mr. Valentine.

           He gives me the on-call maintenance number and I call, but they become suspicious of me, “You’re not the resident we have on file for this unit—”

           I try to explain, but ultimately, they won’t budge and tell me to call a locksmith.

           I flash wide eyes for a moment towards Elise after getting off the phone. “Geez, I’m sorry. You don’t have to wait for the locksmith.”

           “How about you just stay at my place this evening? There’s room enough, and then you can call the locksmith in the morning.”

           I wasn’t assuming she would’ve stayed the night in the first place, but her being as direct and inevitable as she is, it sounds like I will be staying at hers.

           “That sounds wonderful.”

~

           Her place is quaint and with much more character and charm than my renovated condo that seemed like a dream. This is a dream. This color and personality, from the rich green plants all around, the deep red hues of the walls, the multicolored frames hanging with photos of her family, to the canvas painting in progress in the corner of the living room. This is a house filled with life.

           “This is what it feels like to live in a house that is a reflection of who you are—” I venture. I didn’t bring anything, so I take off my jacket and set it on her coat tree. I think of my apartment back in Texas: modern, cookie-cutter box—nothing that personalized it enough to feel like it was my home. It just felt like a home.

           “Perfect timing!” A voice rings out from the other room. “Thanks for letting me know when you’d be home early. Homemade pizza for the deal closing!”

           “Thanks love!” Elise exclaims. “Harry, this is Max. Max, Harry.”

           Harry nods to me. “Max, nice to meet you! Sorry to hear about getting locked out of your apartment, but you are welcome to stay here. Your room is just done the hall,” he points. “Thank you for your help, by the way. This means the world to my wife.”

           I smile, “I’m just glad to be a part of it. It’s wonderful what she has planned for the land and she came in with a very strong offer.”

           Elise gives me a meaningful look.

           I give her a nod. “Thank you again for a place to stay for the night. I am very grateful. I do have a flight out to Texas at noon tomorrow and still have to get into my apartment in the morning. Nice to meet you, Harry.” I look at Elise I share a final, “Congratulations.”

           “Last door on the right—” Elise calls after me as I turn in the direction her husband pointed.

           As I settle in to get some sleep for the evening in Elise and Harry’s perfectly kept guest room, I acknowledge that she was never available. Harry seems nice.

           I fly out the next day and watching Illinois become tiny blueprints, I think of Elise. I think of how it was to see someone living so purposely. She was so unafraid to take up space that she went to the length of working to build upon ten acres.

           Meeting Elise inspired a change within my heart. Life has felt like this heavy burden lately, dreading feeling like I was stuck in a loop of the same day on repeat. This was the most exciting thing that’s happened in my job to date. I am giving too much to an endless pit of work that will never be satisfied.

I want to see my family more. I want to go out on walks and reach down and feel the soil. I want to look around and see more than just the job to be done. I haven’t been to Big Bend in Texas in years, and that’s going to change.