The Objects of Her Affection Read Online Free PDF Page B

the slapping of the blinds, “is that we need our savings for the renovations, so we can’t do much of a down payment. But I’m worried about going too high on our monthly payments, because my work is kind of unpredictable.”
    Ron paged through the paperwork she’d brought, jiggling the oversized watch that slipped around his wrist. “You freelance, am I right?”
    “Yes. If you look at my returns from before 2003, you’ll see how well I was doing before kids. I plan to get back to that level…soon. Once I have a real office to work in. Lucy, put that back on the shelf.”
    “Okay, no problem. Any chance Brian’s getting a raise sometime soon?”
    “Oh, God, I doubt it. Museums these days…”
    “Gotcha. Well, hey, that’s okay.” Sophie felt absurdly grateful to Ron for his unflappable cheeriness, despite the chaos unfolding in front of his desk.
    “I can see you’ve got some years in your field, that’s awesome. Technology is where it’s at, right?”
    “Lucy! Can you stop with the blinds? Please?”
    “Tell you what. I’ve got an interesting new product here that seems perfect for you guys. Well, not totally new. It’s been around since the eighties, but folks like you didn’t always have access to it. It’s called an option ARM.” Ron leaned back and gently patted the crest of his gelled hair.
    “Option arm?”
    “Go as low as you want on the down payment—one percent? Two percent? Up to you. Then every month, you decide what to pay. There’s a minimum payment, of course, or you can choose the whole interest-only payment, or the full PITI.”
    Sophie switched Elliot to her other arm, provoking a fresh wail. She resumed bouncing. “Okay…”
    “For a freelancer like you? Perfect. Gives you a chance to get back on your feet after—well! Obviously, you’re on your feet quite a bit.”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “But you catch my drift. Anyway. Here’s just a back-of-the-envelope look at your minimum monthly payment, if you put one percent down, no points.” He pushed his legal pad across the desk and showed her a number.
    “Really?”
    “Great, right? These rates are insane right now…it’s such a great time to buy.”
    Sophie extracted a lock of her hair from Elliot’s sweaty grasp. “I didn’t know, I mean, the calculator we used online made it sound like this house would be more of a stretch. Especially with the renovations…”
    Ron shook his head. “Those calculators don’t have all the angles. They can’t…massage. That’s what I do. I’m a massager. Whaddaya call it—a massoose. I’m a massoose.”
    “Wow. Okay, well, let me show this to Brian and we’ll—”
    Ron grimaced. “This rate won’t be around for long. If I were you, I’d get the application in now. Just submit it, then talk to your hubby. At least that way we lock in the rate. You change your mind, fine. We’ll work it out.”
    “I’m not committing to anything?”
    “Nah, you’re good. Just get these papers in, and when you’re approved you can pull the trigger.”
    Elliot arched backward in Sophie’s arms, and almost succeeded in getting himself dropped. “Okay, okay,” Sophie gasped, her lower back a tangle of pain. “You’re the expert.”
    “Trust me. You’ll be happy you locked this in.”
    And afterward, as she sat at Johnny Rockets, Lucy coloring her menu and Elliot finally dozing in the car seat beside her, Sophie realized that she was, as a matter of fact, happy. All around her the great apparatus was in motion; gears were turning smoothly, slick with silicone and ball bearings. The mechanism was fantastically complicated but breathtakingly silent, gently conveying an entire generation to new heights of prosperity and comfort. And now here was a trio of mini cheeseburgers being delivered on a red tray, no pickles for Lucy, fries, a smiley face painted in ketchup on a paper plate. As they bit into the pillowy buns, the jukebox started playing “Last Dance,” and suddenly the