PIT #40: Homecoming

Wednesday, June 11, 1986

4:20 p.m.

“ I’m not moving in with anyone, Marsha!”

“Well, you’re a big boy, so I guess you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, I will!”

“Good thing we saved those broken down cardboard boxes.”

“Yeah. Kind of knew we’d need them again someday.”

Traffic moving again. Switching lanes, the Ford station wagon picked up speed...

Stored in the garage. “You’ll get them off the high shelf.”

“Yeah, sure… In the meantime, seeing as you know where you’re going, Marsha, why don’t you call around for a mover.”

“Yeah, good idea. What about for you?”

“I’m staying local, so whenever I figure out where I’m going, I just might rent a ‘U-Haul’.”

One phone call away from knowing exactly where he was going.

Woodland Hills, California

Country Club Realtor's

Thursday, June 12, 1986

9:55 a.m.

“ Conejo Valley Real Estate’!”

“Good morning. Is Marge Handson in?”

“Yes. Hold on, please.”

“Margie speaking.”

“Margie, good morning. This is Mitch Lipensky, Country Club Realtor’s in Woodland Hills.”

“ ‘Morning, Mitch. How can I help you?”

“Your listing in Westlake…”

Condominiums and attached units a glut on the market this year and this unit approaching it’s fourth month on the market without so much as one offer…

“...when can I get in to see it?”

“You’d be ‘showing’ with your principle?”

“Yes. Me.”

“Anytime, Mitch. Whenever you can make it here…”

“How’s about now?”

“Ten-forty-five work for you?”

“That’ll be perfect, Margie.”

“You know how to find it?”

“Little tricky at first, but I found it.”

“You interested for yourself, Mitch?”

“Want to see what it looks like inside. But, yes, if we can put a deal together.”

Thinking, All I want is an offer to show that old lady “Okay, Mitch, see you in forty minutes.”

Leaving Country Club, driving about a half mile east, parking in the ‘Global Savings and Loan’ parking lot, Mitchell closed an account he’d opened— in his name only about three years earlier with commissions from two escrow closings thinking, when there was enough in the account, he would surprise Marsha with a two week cruise to Hawaii and Haiti…

But due to her bouts of, in his opinion, irrational anger he never did. However, giving him a slight degree of comfort, Mitchell enjoyed the thought that he had something his wife knew nothing about.

All ‘Global S&L’ documents sent to Mitchell via the Country Club address and, at one time, curious, giving the information requested, he had filled out a loan document and a few days later had been advised that he had been ‘pre-approved' for an eighty percent home loan for up to the amount of ‘one hundred fifty thousand dollars’.

Closing his secret account on this day, he took the ‘five thousand dollars’ in the form of a ‘cashiers check’ and the balance of ‘twenty-three dollars and fifty-two cents’ in cash.

The property at ‘2821 Waterview lane’ about fifteen miles from the office of ‘Country Club Realtor’s in Woodland Hills.

Arriving a few minutes late , there was a recent model, dark blue, Mercedes Benz sedan parked in the driveway.

The Ford parking along-side the curb, Mitchell approached the driveway as Marge Hendson stepped out of her car.

“Hi…” shaking hands “...sorry for being late.”

“Good meeting you…” the chubby, older lady said “...just got here myself.”

Second to the last of the long, four unit, one story, cream -colour stuccoed, Mexican tiled roof structure — each of the four units fifty foot frontage having a different exterior design giving the appearance of four individual, rather than one long property.

Punching the code into her offices lock box, pushing the ornate wrought iron gate, Marge opened the gate leading into a beautifully maintained California flora planted entryway.

From the front entrance there was a clear view from within the Spanish tile foyer, through the plush, light-chocolate colour carpeted ‘forty by twenty’ living-room through what appeared to be a glass wall looking upon a wide redwood deck and beyond the rippling blue water of man-made West Lake Lake.

Within 2821 Waterview Lane were two large bedrooms one with a full bath and the second with another full bathroom in the shallow hallway immediately to the right of that bedroom.

To the right of the living-room was a fully workable kitchen with what appeared to be new white appliance including a wide refrigerator containing a large freezer compartment. To the left of the kitchen, alongside the glass wall was a ‘eight by twelve’ dining area appearing large enough to comfortably seat eight people. To the other side of the kitchen was an ‘eight by ten den’ which, under needed conditions might be used as a third bedroom.

“Margie, this place is beautiful!” Sliding a patio door open and stepping onto the redwood deck. “What’s the square footage?”

“Near seventeen hundred.”

Looking down the shallow concrete stepped, ice-plant covered embankment, to the boat dock and — only type of boat allowed on West Lake Lake, the battery operated ‘party boat’ docked there.

“Boat come along?”

“If the purchase price is right.”

“What are they asking?”

“Reduced to one-seventy.”

“Let’s get some coffee and talk.”

...At ‘DuPars’ coffee shop in Thousand Oaks.

Taking a blank ‘deposit receipt’ form from his briefcase, placing it on the table before him and speaking as he wrote….

“I’m going to offer ‘one-sixty’, all cash with special conditions.”

“What ‘special conditions’?”

“I am to take occupancy on Monday, but will not actually move in for possibly two weeks…” Taking the ‘cashiers check’ from his jacket pocket and laying it on the table face up “...with this transaction being set up as a ‘lease purchase’ for two months, then reverting to a straight purchase with this five thousand dollar deposit to be absolutely ‘non-refundable’ if I do not close escrow within two months…”

“Getting a divorce, huh?” Marge Hendson said.

Smiling, “You guessed?”

“Nah, seen it before… You want your name on ‘nothing’ your wife can get her hands on before your ‘final papers’.”

“Repeating, ‘you guessed’, Marcie.”

“No. I did a bit of ‘creative financing’ during my divorce, too.”

“So, think you can get it done.”

“She’s out of state, so I’ll have to try to catch her by phone, then have her send a telegram in ‘either case’.””

“Don’t call my home. I’ll be hanging around the office till I hear from you.”

“She’s old and doesn’t do much dancing, so she’ll probably be home…”

“Soon as we hear, I’ll head back to your office to sign and hand the five grad to you.”

“I like your positive attitude, Mitch.”

1:15 p.m.

The #1 button on his phone flashing. “Mitch Lipensky.”

“Mitch, it’s Marge Henson.”

“Hi, Marge. So?”

“Got the telegram in my hand.”

Sensing his heart quickening. “Don’t keep me in suspense!”

“We got a deal...”

“No shit!”

“… with one exclusion.”

“What’s that?”

“Everything works ! She’ll certify everything works: electricity, gas, water. The roof hasn’t the slightest leak.”

“What’s the problem?”

“The boat. She says one of her sons wanted to take the boat out a couple of months ago and it wouldn’t start.”

“Batteries?”

“That’s my guess, but she wants you to except the boat in ‘as is condition’.”

“Of course! The boat’s an added bonus. Write the exclusion in and I’ll sign it and… Where should we meet?”

“My office? Your new home?”

“My new home.”

4:05 p.m.

Entering the house, immediately seeing — by his rapid count, at least sixteen packed and duct tape sealed cartons containing Marsha’s personal items and, he supposed, silverware and dishes and stuff that Marsha had spent the day packing then dragging the cartons into the living room along with… seeing a strip of masking tape on whatever furniture that would be leaving with her.

Coming from a bedroom. Without a greeting. “I spoke to Max this morning and she said the painters will be finishing up tomorrow and if I can get hold of a moving company, I could move in Monday, if I want.”

Showing absolutely no emotion. “Okay.”

“So I called ‘Allied’ to see if they could get someone out here today to give me a price for shipping...”motioning to the living room “...and they’ll be here Monday morning at seven-thirty to finish any packing I haven’t finished...”

“Okay.”

“And I also called ‘United’ and made a reservation for Three thirty Monday afternoon.”

Expecting some sort of emotion from her husband, but received none.

“We’ve twenty-eight hundred between ‘checking’and ‘savings’ , so I’ve taken two thousand to pay the movers and my ‘United’ … If you want, you can call escrow and deduct my half from our payout.”

“No… it’s okay.”

Thinking she knew him— as she’d told her husband throughout the years of their marriage, ‘better than he knew himself’. Now, thoroughly confused by his absolute, ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude . You seem pretty anxious to see me go.”

“No more so than you’re anxious to go.”.”

Knowing her husband’s moods. “Something’s up. What did

you do today?”

“Not that it’s any of you’re business, but I got a really nice listing today.”

“You’re right, whatever you do is ‘none of my business.”

“Yup...” Mitchell Lipensky said “...it’s ‘none of your business’!”

“Take a look at what I’ve marked for the mover to take. If you’ve any questions or concerns about what I’m taking…?”

“You leave me some towels and linens and what we agreed on with ‘Melnick’?”

“Yeah. I did!”

“Okay, then I don’t give a flying fuck for what ever else you’re taking.”

Planning on putting their old bedroom set, the bed and his dresser in the large bed room, and their old sofa-bed and his lounging chair, along with the television Marsha is leaving in the den. The kitchen table and six chairs to go in the dining-area and nearly everything else would be contributed to the ‘Salvation Army’. All else that would be needed for Mitchell Lipensky’s new home would be purchased new as the need arose.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah…” he said “...I could eat.”

Thinking she’d pump him for information about his future plans and where he’s going to live. “I’m buying.”

Next PIT #41: Chocolate