One More Time

59.

"Welcome," a man greets.

"Is this the barbeque?"

"Yeah, not the best weather, but... I'm uh, Larry Pike, the developer here, and you are?"

"Dean. This is Sam and Callie."

"Sam, Dean, Callie, good to meet you. So you three are interested in Oasis Plains?"

"Yes, sir," Dean nods.

"Let me just say, we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or... sexual orientation," he assures us.

"Oh, they're brothers, and I'm--," I start.

"My girlfriend," Sam finishes. "Our father is getting on in years and we're just looking for a place for him."

"Great, great. Well, seniors are welcome too. Come on in," he says. Dean walks in, and I hit Sam in the chest.

"Way to be subtle," I whisper, glaring at him.

"Sorry," he shrugs. I roll my eyes, following Dean.

We walk through the house and to the backyard. "You said you were the developer," Sam questions.

"Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains," he explains. "This is my wife, Joanie."

"Hi there," she greets.

"Hi," Dean greets back, shaking her hand.

"Hi, nice to meet you," she adds to Sam.

"Sam, Dean, and Callie. Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses."

"Right," she nods. We chuckle.

"Gentleman and lady, if you'll excuse me," Larry says before walking off.

"Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live," she admits.

"Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales."

"And Lynda was second to move in," Joanie adds. "She's a very noisy neighbor, though."

"She's kidding, of course," Lynda chuckles as she walks off. "I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners."

"Well..."

"Yeah, yeah, well..."

"Well, let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or... sexual orientation."

"Right," Dean chuckles. "Uh, I'm gonna go talk to Larry. Okay, honey?" Sam glares at him as he walks away.

As we're talking to Lynda, I notice a tarantula walking toward her finger. "Can you excuse us for a second," I say.

"Oh, okay." She walks off, and I walk over to the spider, carefully allowing it to walk into my hand. I walk over to the kid that was watching her, speaking.

"Is this yours?"

"You gonna tell my dad?"

"I don't know. Who's your dad," I question, as he takes the spider back.

"Yeah, Larry usually skips me in the family introductions," he scoffs.

"Ouch. First-name basis with the old man sounds pretty grim," Sam comments.

"Well, I'm not exactly brochure material."

"Well, hang in there. It gets better, alright? I promise," I assure him.

"When?"

"Matthew." I turn around to see Larry looking at him in anger. He walks over to us. "I am so sorry about my son and his pet."

"It's no bother," I shrug.

"Excuse us." They walk off and Dean walks over to us.

"Remind you of somebody," Sam asks Dean. He glances at them and back at Sam, confused. "Dad?"

"Dad never treated us like that," Dean shakes his head making Sam scoff.

"Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?"

"Well, maybe he had to raise his voice but sometimes you were out of line."

"Right. Right, like when I said I'd play soccer than learn bowhunting."

"Bowhunting's an important skill."

"Whatever. How was your tour?"

"Oh, it was excellent. I'm ready to buy," Dean says looking down at me. "So you might be onto something. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here."

"What happened," I ask.

"About a year ago before they broke ground one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job. Get this. Severe allergic reactions to bee stings."

"More bugs."

"More bugs," he nods.