I chuckled at that, and took him from her. "Yes, Mommy is smelly and needs to clean up. Mommy stinks!"
"Those boy toys wouldn't make fun of Mommy!", Marilyn replied.
"I'm too tired to cook. Want me to order a pizza?"
"Sounds good!"
I nodded and juggled Charlie around, and then Marilyn headed up to our room and I took Charlie down to the living room and then on down to the kitchen. I put him in his seat and grabbed the phone book and went through the Yellow Pages until I found a place that would deliver.
Marilyn returned just after I hung up the phone, wearing the sundress but barefoot. She gave me a hug and said, "Maybe I'll keep you around after all."
"Good idea. Wine?" I pulled a bottle of Chianti out of the little wine rack on the counter, and held it up for her.
"Sounds good!" She took over taking care of Charlie and I dug out a couple of glasses and opened the wine. I glanced over at Marilyn and noticed the absence of panty lines through the thin cotton of her dress. That boded well for later.
We goofed off until the pizza arrived. Marilyn handed me a pad and pen and had me follow her around and make notes of everything we needed to do to the town house and what we needed to buy. Some I agreed with, like a bunch of book shelves (I have a lot of books), and some I wasn't thrilled with, like painting the various rooms (I detest painting and wallpapering.) By the time the pizza arrived I wondered if I was going to need a second notepad.
While we ate, I quizzed Marilyn. "Where do you want to go on vacation?"
"Vacation? What vacation?"
"I'm sure I told you that after we moved, we'd take some time off. Well, we moved. Let's take a vacation."
"I thought you were just joking."
"I never joke about goofing off!", I replied.
She gave me a double-take when I said that, but then said, "Well, what did you have in mind?"
"Let's dump Buster here with your parents for a week or two and go somewhere, just the two of us. You tell me where, and I'll make it happen!"
Marilyn was just not being very inventive with vacation ideas, so I tossed out a few. It was the beginning of March, and while Maryland was nowhere near as cold and snowy as upstate New York, it was still winter, or at least the end of winter. A vacation south would be an excellent choice. "How about the Bahamas?", I asked.
Marilyn blinked and looked at me curiously. "I don't know. What's it like there?"
I shrugged. "Don't know. Never been there. Let's find out."
"Just like that?!"
"Sure, why not?"
"You mean, just go?"
"Well, maybe I should find a travel agent first.", I replied.
"When?" She smiled and shook her head. "I can't believe we can just up and go somewhere."
"Get used to it. It's what us gentlemen of leisure do. Just don't forget what we expect of the women in our lives."
Marilyn snorted and laughed. "Just make sure there's only one woman in your life!"
I lifted my glass of Chianti. "Old English toast - 'To our wives and our lovers, and the hope they never meet!'"
Marilyn smiled. "Keep it up, smart ass! Next time I see your brain trust, I'm going to ask them about divorce in Maryland!"
I gave Andrea a call and rescheduled a visit to the acreage on Mount Carmel Road for Monday afternoon. By then Charlie should be well enough to go out again, and Marilyn should see what I had in mind. I also took her grocery shopping and we stocked the kitchen, and while we were at it, I had her pick up a few house design books. I had a few things in mind, but she needed to think it over, too. We spent the rest of the weekend playing house and looking at plans.
On Monday we drove out to Mount Carmel Road and met with Andrea. As I suspected, Marilyn liked the location as much as I did. "How big is it?", she asked excitedly.
Andrea looked down at the file in her hands, fumbling with them in her gloves. It had snowed lightly overnight, probably the last snowfall of the season, and it was chilly. Charlie was all bundled up, but he was sleeping and we had left him in the running car. "It's 25.24 acres. It's just under 1,000 feet of road frontage down there on Mount Carmel, and just over 1,100 here on the side we're parked on."
"How come it's available?"
I looked at my wife and shrugged. "Good question." We both turned to Andrea.
"The previous owner was a farmer, but after he died, neither of his sons wanted to become farmers. One of them lives in Baltimore and the other moved out west somewhere. The original farm was split, half on this side and a larger piece actually on the other side of Mount Carmel Road. The farmer down there...", she said, pointing towards the east, " ... he bought the piece across the road, leaving this piece."
"What's the farmer raise?", I asked, curious about my future neighbors.
"Not completely sure.", admitted Andrea. "Sweet corn, probably." Andrea turned and pointed up the hill slightly. "My understanding is that there are some apple trees over there."
I looked where she was pointing, and made out several apple trees, looking bare and gnarled in the late winter breeze. I grinned at Marilyn. "Sold! You need to learn to make apple pies!"
"I already know how to make apple pies, and you know it.", she said with a smile.
I turned to the real estate broker. "Okay, this is looking pretty positive. I'll give you a deposit today, but it needs to be contingent on a few things. Has a survey been done on this piece?"
Andrea nodded. "Just this past summer, when the property was subdivided. That's current. What else?"
"I'm going to want a perc test run. I won't close on the property until I know the land percs and the septic won't cost more than the land." I knew that out here, we weren't near municipal water and sewer lines. We'd need a well and a septic system.
Andrea nodded, but a bit more slowly. "I can do that, but I don't think the owners are going to pay for it themselves."
"Well, we need to run it anyway. I doubt it will be a problem. I don't think I've ever heard of drainage problems out here, but you never know. I'll give you enough of a deposit to pay for the perc. Can you arrange it?"
"What's a perc test?", interrupted Marilyn.
After thirty plus years in construction, I knew all about them, but Marilyn's father would have never explained these details to one of his daughters, only his sons. "It's short for a percolation test. It tests the soil for a septic system."
"You need a perc test to get a septic system designed. There's no sewer lines out here to tie into.", answered Andrea.
"Well, what is it?"
It took me a second or two to understand, but then I nodded. "Oh, it's real simple. You dig a hole in the dirt and dump a bucket of water in the hole, and then time how long it takes for the water to drain. If it doesn't drain, but sits there like a swimming pool, you fail the test, and you need a very expensive septic. If it drains quick, though, everybody is happy."
"And here."
I shrugged. "Probably pretty good. Maryland farmland is not noted for its clay. It's mostly sand and loam mixes, I think." I looked back at Andrea. "Do you want to do the paperwork here, or go back to the office?"