It had been three months since we’d given up trying to sell our home “by owner,” two months since we’d signed again with a real estate company, and two weeks since we’d signed a contract with real live buyers. As I busied myself organizing, packing and marveling that others wanted to help me, I thought about our buyers working on the flip side of the contract with their realtor and mortgage company. Both moves, theirs and ours, would happen soon.

When our real estate agent called, I assumed it would be to give us a firm moving date. “I’ve studied the situation thoroughly,” she confided, choosing her words carefully, “and my analysis is that the family buying your home can’t afford it. They’re having trouble finding a mortgage, because they’re really not qualified. Also, they haven’t sold their own home yet. And I know for certain they can’t play the two-mortgage game.”

My heart beat picked up speed and sounded like the flutter of wings carrying off the contract, along with our hope for a financial realignment. Having heard her perfectly, I said, “What?”

“I’m wondering if you and Nate will voluntarily let your buyers out of the contract, although legally you don’t have to.”

“You mean lose them completely?” I asked, my voice cracking. We’d worked hard and waited long to get this far.

“Yes, if you’re willing. Like I said, you don’t have to, but it would be a nice thing to do for this young couple.” Our realtor, by now a friend, had a sweet, southern disposition and the lovely accent to go with it. She waited patiently for my response.

“Let me call Nate,” I said, trying to think straight.

Her advice didn’t make good business sense.  If we didn’t sell,  she couldn’t get her commission. But even as I was dialing Nate, I had the sinking feeling we would end up doing what she suggested.

By the end of that day, the deal had evaporated, and along with it, our hope for financial salvation.

“Don’t lose heart,” our realtor said. “I’ve got many other interested parties.”

By this time, our friend Sue’s successful system of packing had put me on the fast track of eliminating and concentrating. I’d been emptying closets and shelves throughout the house like a woman possessed.  Our 188 photo albums had been packed and stacked and were ready for the moving van.

“Stop packing,” Nate instructed. “They say a house shows better if it looks lived-in. I guess we’re back to square one.”

And so my efforts screeched to a halt. Would it be a few weeks? A month? Another torturous year? The situation seemed dismal…  that is, until we told our kids the sale had fallen through. They saw this as a reprieve from the torture of a move.

Louisa took her letter off the wall and began to grin again.