Dramamine, Anyone?

This past month has been so full of twists and turns that it's enough to make one motion-sick.

I decided to take the week after my birthday off from work just to regroup and relax and regain a bit of strength after all the stress of the preceding time. I really looked forward to the brief reprieve from house-hunting, and from my myriad obligations and responsibilities in general. I made sure to get as much of that stuff knocked out in advance so that it wouldn't be hanging over my head during vacation. My biggest priority was to focus on doing things I enjoyed but barely ever had time for, or on doing very little in general -- whichever seemed like it would be more nurturing in any given moment. I would play it by ear.

Almost immediately after I got out of bed the morning of my birthday, the phone rang. It was our realtor. She said it appeared that the buyer who had recently out-bid us on the house we liked was starting to get cold feet, and was annoying the sellers with her hemming and hawing. The particular bone of contention that the buyer was latching onto was the fact that during inspection, the house had tested at a slightly elevated level of radon -- a reading of 4.8, versus the EPA's acceptable maximum of 4 (interestingly, we later found out that the European Union's is 5). The seller had offered to take full financial responsibility for radon remediation, but the buyer was stalling the process. The seller's agent had called our agent asking if we were still interested, and suggested that we renew our offer if we were.

So many emotions seized me all at once. On one hand, I was ecstatic -- an unexpected second chance at a great house, wow! On the other, I was daunted -- what the heck *is* radon, anyway, and would it be just as problematic for *us*? And mixed in with all of that, I was irritated -- these sellers had played us off against this buyer before, and once again, they were manipulating us in pursuit of the most convenient outcome for them. Even if the radon could be satisfactorily dealt with, would all the effort we put into resubmitting a written offer serve only as a means of applying pressure to the current buyer and putting that deal right back on track, with no gain whatsoever for us? And if the sellers were sneaking around behind this buyer's back in search of potentially greater expediency, might they do exactly the same thing to us if we shifted into the buyer's position?

The fact of the matter was that they still had the upper hand and we still hadn't found anything suitable in the intervening time since we last dealt with them. And the clock was ticking.

The first step was to find out exactly what radon was all about and what was involved in getting rid of it. I called back our realtor and said we'd need the weekend to think about it, and also asked her for the name and number of a radon remediation firm so that we could consult them with questions, which she provided.

I woke up my hubby, explained the situation, and we immediately got busy finding out everythng we could online about radon, leaning primarily on the EPA's web site, until my parents came to pick us up for a family get-together a few hours later (we had called them to update them as well). My hubby had also been a nuclear engineer in the Navy several years back, so he already knew a little about it.

The upshot of it was this: radon is an invisible, odorless, naturally occuring gas that results from a high concentrations of uranium in the soil -- it is particularly prevalent in older homes and mountainous areas, but it can be found everywhere (apparently 1 in 5 homes throughout the U.S. has a radon issue). It seeps into a house through the basement, and extended exposure to it at levels higher than 4 can potentially cause lung cancer. The stuff is bad mojo and definitely something you do not want lingering about under any circumstances. HOWEVER, radon remediation is not particularly complicated and can result in almost complete elimination of the problem, as opposed to merely bringing it below a reading of 4. While we could see how the presence of radon might freak out a potential buyer, we weren't particularly worried about it, armed with the knowledge of how it could be effectively dealt with. However, the question was whether the problem would, in fact, be ours to deal with, or whether the current buyer would come to her senses and follow through.

The following day was taken up with errands and domestic stuff in general, so it wasn't until Monday, the first day of my vacation, that we could proceed any further. I got up early that morning and called the radon remediation firm with lots of questions that my hubby and I had formulated. They articulately and patiently addressed all of them, basically confirming our findings over the weekend and fleshing them out a bit more. The strategy we agreed on with my parents was to tell our realtor to tell the sellers' realtor that we would consider renewing our offer, but only once the current buyer was out of the picture. We wanted to make it clear that we were interested, but were not willing to be manipulated.

I called our realtor to convey these thoughts, and she said she'd heard nothing further from the sellers' agent -- she thought that perhaps it was a sign that the current buyer had decided to proceed after all.

In the meantime, I ran a bunch more errands that were still outstanding, and also called our loan officer to see if Morris Plains was still listed as being in a declining market and therefore still required a 10% down payment to avoid PMI -- it had been awhile since we'd last talked about it, and I hoped that things might have changed in the intervening time. She called me back to say that it looked like we might be able to get away with 5% after all, but that she couldn't know for sure until we were under contract on the house, the loan could be run through their automated underwriting system, and the property could be appraised.

Shortly after that conversation, our realtor called back. Apparently the buyer had terminated the contract and was now officially out of the picture. The coast was clear for us to make an offer! We decided that doing so verbally, as opposed to through a formal contract, would be the best way to start since we'd already been through this song and dance before and the sellers had come to us this time. If they accepted, we would then draw up the contract. Even though our previous offer price was clearly understood by the sellers as our "best and final," the sellers' agent said that if we could just go up $5,000 higher, we could get the ball rolling right away. Even our realtor encouraged us to make a higher offer if we could, which disappointed me because she was supposed to be representing *our* interests, not the sellers' -- her desire to maximize her commission finally came to the forefront. They all knew perfectly well that if anything, we might offer *less* because of the recently disclosed radon issue rather than more. We resisted this attempt at yet more manipulation by both parties and stuck with our original figure -- our realtor's disappointment was readily apparent but she feigned acceptance. However, we moved up our closing date to be a week earlier since we knew they would appreciate the ability to close more quickly, and we felt pretty sure we could swing it.

I grabbed some lunch, then got another call from our realtor -- the sellers' agent was now bringing a whole new issue onto the scene. Apparently another reason why the deal with the former buyer had fallen through was because her attorney had demanded that the abandoned underground oil tank, which had been properly cleaned, filled, capped, and certified by the Department of Environmental Protection (something we'd already known about from the seller's disclosure), be entirely removed. This was a huge and totally unnecessary production, and the sellers had understandably refused to do it. Before considering our verbally relayed offer terms any further, they wanted us to provide a written statement from our attorney essentially promising that we wouldn't hassle them about it, pending his review of their DEP certification paperwork. Talk about having to jump through hoops! Our realtor asked us for our attorney's phone and fax number so that she could give it to the sellers' agent and he could fax over the DEP certification paperwork. While she acknowledged that the sellers' latest request was a bit unorthodox, she didn't say anything like, "You might want to think about whether this is something you're comfortable with, and to discuss it with your attorney to see what his thoughts are about this kind of approach. If this request seems reasonable, we'll need his phone and fax number." I mean, there wasn't even a written offer on the table yet, for heaven's sake! We had no assurance whatsoever that even if we went through all of this, our offer would be accepted. The transaction would literally commence with us signing away at least one of our rights, albeit a right we were highly unlikely to exercise. Our realtor's true colors were emerging. When the sellers' team said "Jump," she said, "How high?" Some buyer's agent she was! I told her that I would first like to speak with our attorney about it before giving his information to anyone, and that we weren't prepared to just automatically agree to these conditions on the spot. Furthermore, I wanted her to get some assurance from the sellers' agent that if we agreed to send them the statement from our attorney that they wanted, we would be clear to proceed with a formal written offer at our original price that they would accept. Shortly thereafter, the sellers' agent faxed me the DEP certification paperwork for the abandoned oil tank, but made no further comment.

I placed a call to our attorney. When I explained to his secretary who I was and why I was calling, she said, "I'm sorry, he's out on vacation all this week."

OH NOOOOOO! No no no! I knew there was no way on earth that these sellers were going to wait around all week for us. Might we have to line up another attorney? There was nobody covering for him. Our loan officer was the one who had recommended him, so I tried the cell number she had given me, figuring that this was a legitimate emergency. "The number you dialed has been disconnected," the automated message from the phone company said. GREAT! I called our loan officer to see if she had a more recent number from him. She didn't. What was I to do? I called back his office explaining that this was an emergency, and supplying the cell number I'd tried. The secretary said that she expected him to check in that afternoon and would deliver our message at that time, but didn't release his current cell number.

So, all I could do was wait. I went outside in the bright sunshine to try to clear my head and relax a bit, but my back was knotted to hell and gone and was in pain every step of the way. And I just couldn't fully take in my surroundings, lovely and springlike though they were.

After I returned home, our attorney's secretary called back to say that he would call around 9:00 a.m. the following morning to discuss our situation. So much for sleeping in.

The next morning, I got up bright and early once again, waiting for his call. I found an e-mail from our realtor making a not-so-subtle attempt to once again pressure us into increasing our offer amount, sending along a few listings less favorable than ours with exorbitant asking prices. She knew as well as we did that asking prices mean nothing and that it's the final sales prices that matter, but she hadn't been able to supply us with meaningful comps due to an alleged lack of inventory, forcing us to rely entirely on instinct. This desperate tactic was a new low and served only to make me even more annoyed with her.

Then I got a call from our attorney's secretary saying that she had been mistaken when she told me he'd call back around 9:00 a.m. -- she'd meant around 9:00 a.m. West coast time. Oh, for Pete's sake!

I attended to some e-mail I'd been neglecting over the past few days, and finally our attorney called. I gave him the low-down, and he saw no problem with providing the letter they wanted, assuming that the DEP paperwork checked out. He stipulated that since he was on vacation, it could take up to 48 hours, but he promised to attend to it as soon as he could. He gave me his new cell phone number and his e-mail address, and also requested that the sellers' agent provide us with contact information for the sellers' attorney so that he could reach out to him and introduce himself, and discuss the issues in more detail. I e-mailed him the DEP certification paperwork and called back our loan officer to give her his current cell phone number.

In the meantime, I received another e-mail from our realtor -- this one said that her mother had lost her struggle with cancer and passed away 4 days earlier, and so her availability over the next two days would be very limited. Why hadn't she mentioned anything about it sooner??? That was huge! I was surprised she had even continued to work since then under the circumstances. I found it all very strange, though of course my heart went out to her and I completely understood why her availability would be limited.

I decided to take matters into my own hands and call the sellers' agent directly. I told him I'd received the paperwork he'd faxed us, that I'd spoken with our attorney and he initially foresaw no problem with providing the requested letter (pending his review of the paperwork), and that our attorney would like contact information for the sellers' attorney, and to please call me back with it.

We didn't hear a peep from anyone for the rest of that day.

I took the next day to sleep in a bit and to try to have some semblance of a vacation, leaving my hubby's work number on our attorney's voicemail and e-mail and getting out of the neighborhood entirely. I also left my hubby with some followup questions to ask him should he call. It was a welcome and much-needed break. It turned out that nobody called that day anyway.

Not knowing who we might or might not hear from the day after that, I once again left my hubby's work number on our attorney's voicemail and e-mail before taking off for more out-of-neighborhood activities. I checked in with my hubby via cell phone later that afternoon, and it turned out that our attorney had finally called him. He said that the paperwork looked fine, that everything checked out, and that the letter would be sent to the sellers' agent that day or the next.

I had my hubby call our realtor and relay the news. The sellers' side had still refused to give us any kind of assurance that an offer from us would be accepted even with the letter imminent, and had not provided the contact information for their attorney. Essentially, they were completely ignoring us. On the other hand, after having come this far, we had nothing to lose by submitting a written offer -- except maybe our sanity, which was starting to erode anyway. :-) We gave our realtor the green light to draw up the offer contract. We weren't sure what percentage our down payment would have to be, but we put 5% on the offer contract to keep expectations low. If we subsequently needed to put 10% down after all, we'd cross that bridge when we came to it. My hubby received the completed contract that evening just before we met up for dinner, and we signed it and faxed it back to her once we got home.

Late the following morning, I called our attorney's office to verify that the letter he had promised to send was in fact sent. It turned out that it was, the previous day. So that was a relief. We had done everything we possibly could from our end. I left the neighborhood once again, this time to meet a friend for lunch, and dropped by my hubby's office for a surprise visit since I was right in the area. Though it was of course nice to see him, I was in for an unfortunate surprise when I got there.

It turned out that our faxing software had malfunctioned and our realtor never received our signed contract, now well into mid-afternoon on a Friday. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!

I rushed home, retrieved the file from my hubby's desktop, and attached it in an e-mail to our realtor, hoping she would be able to retrieve it and present it to the seller before the close of the business day, which was rapidly approaching. I called her to let her know it was coming, and she called me back a little later to confirm that she had received it and would present it as soon as possible. She warned us that the sellers would probably try to schedule one last-ditch open house that weekend to see if they could scare up any other competing buyers that they could play us off against before responding to our offer one way or the other. Sure enough, the MLS listing was still live on every real estate web site I checked, having been put back up immediately after the other buyer backed out -- if it was ever taken down at all.

Now all we could do was wait. I left the apartment once again to meet my hubby for dinner.

I couldn't even imagine having had to deal with all of this during a normal work week. It had felt like a full-time job in and of itself.

Once we got home, the combination of the cumulative stress from the week, and all the pressure applied to us from all sides, and the tremendous amount of time I'd lost during what was supposed to be a vacation, and the complete lack of any assurance that it would even pan out or be worth the sacrifice in the end, had reached critical mass. Though I'd been able to enjoy at least a few recreational activities throughout the week, they were all tempered by the tension and drama raging in the background. My much-needed time off from work had been a far cry from the relaxing, envigorating retreat I'd originally envisioned. In fact, I felt worse at the end of it than I did at the beginning. It was, as my hubby put it, a "fake-ation." The last straw was an absolutely awful subway ride back, during which a gang of kids was making so much noise in our immediate vicinity that it literally hurt my ears, followed by having an eyefull of graffiti covering every wall of the elevator that brought us to street level in our neighborhood. I felt irrevocably trapped in a city I hated, utterly powerless to alter my fate. When we returned home that evening, I sobbed in frustration. In the four years we had been together, and the two and a half years of our marriage, my hubby had never seen me cry. Now in the past two weeks, I had cried twice.

The worst part of it was that the following morning, I felt no better, and broke down once again shortly after breakfast. The fact that the weekend had arrived brought me no joy at all, as it ordinarily would. One day was very much like another, and it felt like the more of it I spent asleep and unconscious, the better. I declared myself offically depressed. This was the worst I'd felt in at least a decade.

Just as I started heading towards bed, my hubby advised me to pack a change of clothes because we'd be leaving shortly for Cape May, one of my favorite vacation spots. I was completely baffled.

He had decided that drastic measures were called for, and arranged a surprise trip for that night and the following day -- all on his dime (since we had already agreed that vacations were out of the question on joint funds until after we'd bought a house). In 15 minutes, he'd arranged both the rental car -- appropriately enough, a Ford Escape -- and a room in a clean, efficient motel near the center of town. He told me to bring my favorite CDs to listen to in the car -- whatever was most likely to cheer me up.

I was touched, and yes, even encouraged. In that moment, I felt completely and utterly loved.

The next couple of hours were a flurry of activity as we packed up our things and my hubby went to fetch the rental car. In the meantime, I bought the coming week's groceries, stocked up the overnight bag with snacks, and brought down all the trash. These tasks constituted a welcome distraction. By the time he returned, I was ready to roll.

As the miles between ourselves and New York City began to increase, so did my well-being. The combination of the cheerful, soothing music I brought, picturesque scenes of spring rolling by, and company of my wonderful life partner gladdened my heart. By the time we arrived in Cape May that evening, I already felt far better. There was a minor hiccup when our realtor called my hubby on his cell phone to say that the sellers had not yet responded to our offer and, according to their agent, kept postponing their reply, and that this was really unusual behavior -- the last thing I needed to hear. My hubby explained that we were on vacation and that she shouldn't call again unless there was real news to report, which I appreciated -- especially since it seemed like she was only stoking our feelings of powerlessness, which was totally unproductive. I tried my best not to dwell on it, and was able to successfully and fully enjoy the rest of our trip.

Being in a place that made me happy brought back happy memories not only of past trips there, but also, surprisingly, of happy occasions throughout the course of my entire life. We had a wonderful time while we were there, and more importantly, I was reminded of the good things I had -- and would always have as a part of me -- whether we found a house before the expiration of our lease or not. Those two days completely out of town did me more good than the entire preceding week off from work. The key for me, it seems, is not being in New York at all -- even if only temporarily. Throughout the years whenever I've travelled, I've always felt like a weight was lifted once I left the city, almost like being reborn. Returning home was often a letdown. But at least this time, I felt like I had the strength to face whatever might come our way.

When we returned on Sunday night, we decided to give the sellers an ultimatum, on my mom's advice, so that they couldn't just ignore our offer indefinitely while they tried to line up another buyer. If they made no response to our offer by noon the next day, we would tell them they had only 24 hours more to do so or else our offer would be withdrawn. After all the pressure they'd put on us, all the games of hurry-up-and-wait, and all the hoops they'd made us jump through, this seemed only reasonable.

Noon on Monday came and went. Nothing. I started to pick up the phone to relay our ultimatum to our realtor, and at the same moment, my dad called to ask how things were going. As I started to explain, my other line rang. I told him I'd call back. It was my hubby, with news from our realtor. The sellers had accepted our offer.

THE SELLERS HAD ACCEPTED OUR OFFER. HOLY &@*!#$%!!! THEY DIDN'T REJECT IT. THEY DIDN'T EVEN COUNTER IT. THEY ACCEPTED!!!

Needless to say, my hubby and I were over the moon. We quickly relayed the good news to our parents, and our scheduled closing date of May 21st to our bosses, with a warning that a request for 2 weeks off would soon follow. My hubby scheduled a home inspection with the firm we'd selected (by comparing sample report styles and scope, length of experience in the industry, and references by customers) for that Saturday, hoping attorney review would conclude by then. I put our loan officer on notice so that she could get the mortgage process going, and I requested a formal written estimate from the radon remediation firm I had previously contacted so that we could present it to the sellers through our attorney.

On Tuesday morning, we heard from our attorney, and he asked us whether we had any suggested modifications to the contract. We decided that we'd like the down payment date moved back by a week to allow just a little more time for all the various transfers from our hodgepodge of accounts to clear, asked that the swingset currently on the property be removed, and also requested a credit in the amount of the estimate I'd received from the radon remediation firm. He said he would include these requests in his letter of introduction. In the meantime, he had still not received any communication from the sellers' attorney.

There was no sign of real movement from either end by Wednesday, the third (and supposedly final) day of attorney review, so we started getting a bit worried (as did our realtor, who called to ask us what was going on). I left a followup message for our attorney asking if anything had happened, and he called back later that afternoon to say that he was just about to send his letter of introduction containing our requested modifications to the ratified contract, and had still not heard from the sellers' attorney. Apparently our contract was emerging right at the time of month when closings were at a peak, so neither attorney was in the office much or able to focus on the matter as a high priority.

Thursday and Friday morning came and went with no response to our requests from the sellers' attorney. Once again, we were being completely ignored. It was looking likely that we might have to reschedule the home inspection.

Finally, well into Friday afternoon, our attorney called back to relay the sellers' response: no to the down payment due date extension (which none of us, including the sellers' attorney, could understand, since they wouldn't be able to spend the money until after closing anyway, by which point they'd have 100% of the purchase price -- clearly it was a purely psychological issue), yes to the removal of the swingset (which surprised us), and that the conversation about the amount of the radon remediation credit would be deferred until after the home inspection and discussed with other inspection-related issues. The down payment due date would be tight, but we figured we could probably pull it off if we set the wheels in motion immediately. So we agreed to conclude attorney review and proceed with the inspection, just in the nick of time.

The next morning, we took the train out to Morris Plains and our realtor picked us up to take us to the house. It turned out that the home inspector was already there examining the outside of the property. Methodically and carefully, he made his way completely around the perimeter and went from room to room. The exact details of what he said are too lengthy to reprint here, and are contained within an entirely separate inspection report, but the upshot was that there were no red flags. Overall, the house was in good shape. There were several tips he gave us about what might need to be done or replaced soon, and a few things small things that needed to be attended to immediately, but nothing that fell squarely within the sellers' responsibility to fix or that made the house unlivable as-is. He was a very calm, patient, well-spoken, and thorough inspector, and was clearly very knowledgeable about his profession. My hubby took copious notes and we learend an awful lot about being responsible homeowners and how to optimize all the various systems of a house. It really was like home ownership boot camp, and we asked lots of questions, which allowed us to get more out of his evaluation. Although somewhat overwhelming, we felt ready to handle it. Our attorney later commented that the report our home inspector generated was particularly well organized and the concepts clearly expressed, and that from what he could tell, the house seemed relatively sound. All in all, we were very pleased with the job he did, and relieved by the outcome of his work.

So, with that major hurdle out of the way, we were ready to set the wheels in motion for our eventual move. We made arrangements to transfer funds from all our various bank and investment accounts into our joint checking account for the down payment, the biggest check to be written in either of our entire lives. Yet strangely, I felt no jitters whatsoever as I prepared to part with a good chunk of the savings I'd built up over the years since I first began working. This was, in fact, exactly what I'd intended to use it for all along, and I knew it would be money well spent. Almost two decades of diligent scrimping would, with any luck, finally make my long-held dream a reality.