February 1971
“So?”
“I don’t know…”
“You like this one as well as the last one?”
“No….”
“Do you like any of them?”
She smiled softly at his teasing and admitted with a shrug, “I just haven’t found one that was perfect. Is that bad?”
“No, my love, because the house our daughter grows up in should be perfect.” He smiled and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “We’ll just have to keep looking.”
They rounded the corner from the dining room into the kitchen where the real estate agent was waiting for them.
“So, isn’t this a great house?”
Rollin responded first, “It’s very nice Patty, it’s just not exactly what we’re looking for.” Patty was a friend of Paula & Barney Collier and had helped them find the house they had purchased shortly before Grant was born almost three years ago.
“Well,” she responded with a sigh, “I only have one more left on my list for today, over in Pacific Palisades. It’s a little more than you wanted to spend, but very special. Do you have the energy to see it on our way back to the office?”
“Sure, why not?” Rollin grabbed Cinnamon’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze as they walked out the back door of the house. He could tell she was disappointed and he wanted to please her.
They had seen about twenty houses in the last month and at least a handful would have been just fine but he knew what a perfectionist she was and that it was best not to push her. They had decided soon after the baby was born that neither of their places was suitable for raising a child. Rollin’s bachelor pad in Malibu was far too small and Cinnamon’s high-rise apartment in West L.A. would not work with its balcony and in what she felt was an inadequate school system.
The couple had spent many long hours discussing the arrangement for the house. Rollin wanted to be able to contribute as much as he could to the support of their daughter. Unfortunately, without the steady added income his employment with the IMF had given him, his acting career, with it’s ups and downs, did not put him in a position to guarantee a steady contribution to a monthly mortgage payment. Cinnamon, on the other hand, while willing to accept Rollin’s monetary support for Jennifer’s sake, was adamant about the house being something she could afford on her own and solely in her name.
So, with those ground rules set, the couple set out, with the help of the Colliers’ realtor, to find a house.
Cinnamon, true to form, had organized a list of features she wanted in a house, both necessities and luxuries. While many of the houses they had seen had many desired features, nothing had felt like “home” to Cinnamon.
She was beginning to wonder if any would when they pulled into the drive of the final house on Patty’s list. The house was a large two-story, white stucco with a circular front drive.
“Oh, Rollin,” Cinnamon turned to face him from the front seat of Patty’s car, “it’s beautiful.”
He returned her smile and winked at her with promise.
As they got out of the car, Patty ran through a list of features from the listing: “Built in 1962, 4400 square feet, four bedrooms, 3 ½ baths, formal dining room, two-car garage, ground floor servants quarters, pool and pool house, mature landscaping…Sounds great, ready to check it out?”
They followed the real estate agent to the front door of the house. The door opened to a foyer with steps leading down into a sunken living area and large windows encompassed the room. There was no furniture in the house, as the couple that was selling it had to move back east for the husband’s job. Cinnamon took in the room as Patty came up behind her. “Can’t you just see a Christmas tree in the corner over there.”
Cinnamon followed her finger as she surveyed the rooms. Rollin moved past the women and into the den. “Cinnamon…” He called.
She followed his voice and peaked around the corner of the door. “Looks like they forgot something.” He said nodded at the pool table.
Cinnamon smiled and looked around the dark paneled room. It had built-in bookcases and a door to the patio outside.
Patty appeared at the door. “They had to leave the pool table. No room in the new house.”
Cinnamon nodded and moved back into the main room. “You said four bedrooms?”
Patty nodded. “I think you will like the master suite.”
Rollin’s ears perked up. “Mmmm…Let’s have a look.”
Together they climbed the stairs to the second floor. The master suite was just off the main hallway. They opened the double doors to the room. The sun shone brightly through the ample windows for the large room. Rollin crossed the room and opened the French doors to the balcony that over looked the pool. “Sweetheart?” He called.
She joined him from where she was assessing the bathroom and dressing area.
She looked out over the sparkling pool and he wrapped his arm about her waist.
“It’s better than the others.” He stated.
Cinnamon nodded her agreement. “It needs a little updating but nothing major that I’ve seen so far.”
He smiled, hopeful. “Then maybe…”
“I don’t know, Rollin, she said it was out of our price range….” She said silencing him.
He nodded and followed her back inside to continue the tour.
Cinnamon went through every room of the house, including the pool house and garage. Patty took that as a good sign as Cinnamon had not shown as much enthusiasm for the other houses. The house was in very good order.
She and Rollin met the realtor back in the kitchen.
“Well?” Patty asked.
Rollin beamed. “Can we keep the pool table?”
“Just for you, Darling.” She said moving to his side.
Cinnamon then turned to Patty and became serious. “I think it’s perfect but just how much out of our price range is it?”
“Let’s go back to the office and see what we can do about making them an offer. I hear they are ‘motivated’.”
Cinnamon nodded as Rollin’s hand moved about her waist.
Patty shouldered her purse and moved for the door of the kitchen. “I’ll meet you in the car. Say ‘hello’ to your new home.” She said with a sincere smile.
Cinnamon smiled brightly and Rollin pulled her into his embrace. “You’re sure?”
“I am. Provided we can make the numbers work.”
He kissed her. “Jen is gonna love the pool.”
A week later, Cinnamon was still negotiating the sale of the house. Rollin knew she was concerned about the money; she’d made that clear from the beginning. He and Cinnamon had never really had a reason in their relationship to discuss their personal finances until the last few months and details surrounding the purchase of a house. Rollin knew what she had earned as a spy, roughly the same as he did, but he’d only had a vague inkling of what she’d earned as a top fashion model. He knew the money they earned to regularly risk their lives for their country was enough to keep him comfortable and able to pick and choose among acting assignments without having to wait tables to pay the rent.
While Cinnamon had a nice apartment in a fashionable part of town and didn’t ever seem to struggle to make ends meet, she certainly didn’t live extravagantly, other than her clothing, which he always assumed partly came at some incredible discount she received for modeling it. He had to admit to himself, however, that he was a little awestruck when she shared her financial status with him and revealed the balance of what her modeling income, combined with her venture into ownership of a modeling agency, had become with shrewd investing in less than ten years that she had been on her own.
While she explained her need to be prudent with her finances was strictly a result of the fact that a model’s career was short-lived and she knew she had to save and invest wisely and nothing more, Rollin still found it hard not to have his pride a bit bruised. Whether it was chauvinistic or not, he very much wanted to be able to provide for his daughter to the greatest extent possible. If Cinnamon wouldn’t agree to marry him yet, he would do the one thing he could do right now to contribute to Jennifer’s future.
Early one afternoon, he called Cinnamon’s secretary, Alice, and left a message for Cinnamon to meet him at the house after work.
She parked in front of the two-story house next to Rollin’s convertible and turned off the engine. She did like the house and knew it could be the home she wanted for Jennifer but she paused before exiting the car and joining Rollin inside.
How much her life had changed she thought… what had happened to the carefree, jet-setting, cover girl and super spy? Ready to hop a flight to far-off exotic lands with only an hour’s notice! If someone would have told her two years ago that she’d be sitting here today, unmarried, with a one-year-old child and worried about school districts, closing costs and termite inspections, she never would have believed it.
Was she having regrets? Some days she missed her old life, yes. She could admit that to herself. Did she regret one minute with her daughter, no, never. Jennifer was the best thing that had ever happened to her and every morning when she picked her up out of her crib, she had no idea how she had ever thought about having a life without a child. She’d always thought if she did have a child, she’d have a husband to go along with it, but then that was her choice right now, wasn’t it? Yes, and for now, it was the right one. One step at a time, Cinnamon: first the baby, now the house, then Rollin.
With that, she pushed the thoughts from her mind and walked to the front door and it opened as Rollin smiled welcoming her inside. “You’re right on time.” He said, reaching for her hand to bring her across the threshold.
He pulled her close, brushing his lips against her cheek as she stepped inside. “What are you up to?” She asked, cutting her eyes at him.
“We’ll see.”
There were two large bouquets of flowers on either side of the fireplace. In the middle was a wine cooler with a chilled bottle of champagne and two crystal flutes.
She moved toward the flowers. “These are lovely.”
He smiled as he watched her.
“Rollin?”
He moved to her. “I just want to help you make your decision.”
She sighed as he took her in his arms and she met his eyes. “It has to be right.”
“I want to make it happen for you.”
She looked at him, puzzled. “You always do.” She said with a smile.
He grinned. “I want to make this happen.” He said.
His hand moved inside his jacket and he produced a white envelope. He slipped it into her hand.
“What?”
“Open it.”
She pulled a check from the envelope. “Rollin!” She exclaimed as she acknowledged the amount.
She pulled him close. “How?”
He hugged her. “Now buy the house you want and lets make a home for Jennifer.”
She hugged him even tighter. “How did you do this?”
“Slight of hand.”
She looked at him and her tone became more insistent, “Rollin, where did you get this?”
“That’s not important, this house is perfect and I want to contribute. Jennifer’s my daughter too and I want her to have the only the best.”
Cinnamon was speechless, so he continued.
“I know how important it is for you that this is your house. This doesn’t change that, it just helps make it a little more manageable.”
“But, Darling, where did you get this much cash?”
He took a deep breath and stated firmly, “I sold my place in Malibu.”
“Rollin, no…” she looked down at the check in her hand and shook her head.
“Cinnamon,” he took her chin in his hand and raised her eyes to meet his. “Please let me do this…for both of you.” With that he leaned forward and kissed her softly on the mouth, preventing her from arguing with him.
When he pulled away, he again met her now moist green eyes and held her gaze, “Ok?”
“Ok,” she whispered and nodded.
“I have one favor to ask though…” he smiled and took both of her hands in his, careful not to damage the valuable check she was still holding.
“Anything.” His smile was infectious.
“Can I rent a room from you?”
She grinned broadly and pulled him closer to her, “We’ll have to see about that. I’m not sure if I’ll have any extra bedrooms, but I might be able to find room for you in my bed.”
“Ah, Miss Carter, I do like the way you think!” He kissed her forehead, the turned her around in his arms so that she was once again facing the fireplace and the romantic setting he had prepared for her.
“Speaking of that,” he placed his chin on her shoulder and spoke into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and guided her in the direction of the pool table, “let’s commence with christening your new home.”
Cinnamon smiled as she covered his arms that encircled her waist. “Our home.”
THE END
Betsy Nicholas
Elena Vorska
December 2001