Right Next Door

Chapter 1

Brandon

Sun was setting over the two-story Craftsman home that looked in even more disrepair than it did when he signed the paperwork two days ago. It had been his dream since college to restore an old home with his own two hands. Working for Carlson and Sons Construction since he was 18 had given him the safety and security of working with a family business and constructing residential homes in Seattle, but the homes he helped build held no gratifying weight to them that he craved. He wanted to build homes that fit the neighborhoods that they were going into. Pre-fab and cookie cutter homes the suburban families demanded lacked creativity and ingenuity, in his opinion. So for ten years he had saved and scraped to buy the home of his dreams and restore it to the original vision it had once been.

The 1940's Craftsman home was overrun with lush greenery; a little pulling, weeding and pruning would go a long way to make the place more presentable. The home was structurally sound but there would need to be a lot of cosmetic repairs made and important stuff like the electrical wiring of the house would have to be updated. The main issue with the house was the gaping hole in the top of the roof. The previous owners foreclosed on the home after what looked like months of disrepair had taken the place over. Brandon imagined it was too much for two people to deal with, especially when they couldn't make the repairs themselves. He was grateful for his training and knew in his heart that he could tackle this project. He worried what the neighbors would think, considering the house was inhabitable - he'd camp out in the main living area until the roof was fixed and the basics were taken care of. It would be rough - no kitchen, just a toilet and a run-down shower, but it would do. Everything he owned he put in his parents' storage shed, and would gradually move in as the project progressed.

The house featured an expansive porch on the front, perfect for a porch swing and hanging planters. Four pillars lined the front of the house but they were worn out, cracked and peeling from 40-year-old paint applied and not ever touched up. A large wooden door with mosaic stained glass across the top was one of his favorite attributes to the house. It certainly caught his eye when he first saw the place. He imagined the warm colors dancing across the entryway of the house as the evening sun began to set and felt it added a sense of homeyness to everything. Two rectangular sets of windows faced the front of the house on the second floor and the roof vaulted backwards to the tip-top of the home. Beyond the second floor windows was the space that would become his master suite. The loft style quarters upstairs would house a small office and library, a private bath and eventually a walk-in wardrobe. It was more space than he needed but he imagined one day sharing all of this with someone. Someone that wanted to live in the suburbs and had pretty things to fill a walk-in wardrobe like that. Until then, it would be a bachelor's loft, and he would revel in its luxury.

Over the past two years he'd collected scraps of materials that caught his eye from job sites that would have otherwise been pitched. He saved things like crown molding, base boards, leftover paint, drywall scraps, old windows, ceramic tile, vintage lighting fixtures and interesting hardware used for cabinetry. He would check out salvage yards, estate sales (on his way to job sites) and Craig's List for materials he could use for his future home. Little by little he stockpiled a fair share of materials to the point where he looked like a hoarder to anyone not aware of his plans. He rented a decent-sized storage unit as a catch-all for his treasures and before he knew it, it was full to the brim. As he scoured Seattle for the perfect fixer-upper, he saved the extra cash he'd earned from working so many hours and when he found his dream home, he was able to pay for it in cash. Even in the thriving Seattle real estate market, a house in this condition, repossessed by the bank and not habitable by human beings, sold for next-to-nothing. The real estate agent assumed he would just tear the house down and start over. But when Brandon expressed his desire to renovate the old home, the agent looked at him like a crazy person. With keys in hand, he took the afternoon off, cleaned out his apartment and grabbed a quick lunch.