Page 46 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys

My hand felt awkward as it began to slowly swoop my first name across the first line. The pen was impossibly heavy. I wrote ‘Shaw’ with a shaky, stunted motion that left behind ink blots. Better than tear drops though.

My grandpa didn’t need to be here. He was still on the house’s title, in case something happened to me, but I held Power of Attorney for both my grandparents. We’d worked out a deal on the house years ago. He’d sold it to me below market value, gifting the equity. I’d taken over the existing lien, which was my responsibility anyway since it only existed thanks to my dance education. I still couldn’t believe he’d set all of this in motion without me knowing. Found the realtor. Gotten an appraisal. Done the math.

I could have said no. I could have fought him.

But he’d been so resolute that this was the right thing to do.

So, it didn’t matter that legally I could refuse. Listening to Grandpa now, after everything he’d done for me, was the least I could do.

When I hesitated to sign the second yellow line, Jan patted me on the back. She dripped with perky energy.

"Isn't this exciting? You're so close to starting your next chapter!" Her voice was too bright, each word ending in a little exclamation.

I’d been up since five. I’d nearly convinced myself not to come. But the paperwork didn’t care if you were ready to sign your childhood away, and the world was spinning regardless.

“Right, my next chapter,” I mumbled quietly before scrawling my name yet again.

Mechanically, I finished the paperwork. Line after line. Signature after signature.

I blinked, unseeing, as a new document pushed into my field of vision.

“Since you’ve opted for a direct transfer, we need you to verify your banking information again, Miss Shaw.” This from the escrow officer, a Beta with a pleasant, if unremarkable face, sitting on the other side of Jan. “The earnest money deposit is being held by Chamberlain Title, but the balance of sale will come from the buyer’s financial institution, East American Credit. Both should clear in the next three to four business days. Just initial where I’ve indicated.”

We’d gone over the numbers so many times that they just seemed to blur on the page now.

Sales price.

Realtor fees.

Closing costs.

Balance of existing loan satisfied to lender.

Remaining funds due to Seller, minus earnest money deposit.

Earnest Money deposit due from Chamberlain Title.

The saving’s account number and routing number were correct.

“Looks fine,” I shrugged, pushing the document away from me after initialing.

“Please check carefully,” the escrow Beta urged.

“I did,” I responded numbly.

“Great,” she stood up enough to lean past Jan and press two fingers down on the paper. She slipped it back out of view. Thank, God. I didn’t want to look at the damn thing for one more second.

Why was everything reduced to dollars in a list now?

How much my pain was worth.

How much my career was worth.

How much my home was worth.

But the money break down was at least less hurtful than the inspection report.

This whole thing was going so fast, a rapid thirty-day closing. The buyers I’d chosen had gotten their inspector out two days after we’d ratified the contract. I’d chosen the Beta couple, even though the other people had cash in hand. The Beta couple wanted to tear down a wall, which I hated. But the other buyer? They’d wanted to raze the entire thing to make way for a modern monstrosity. My choice had been one hundred percent emotion driven and not financially savvy. I regretted my decision a little after the inspection though. The other buyers would have been less of a headache.