“My father is wiring the funds tomorrow,” I said.
Aaron stopped with his hand on the car door handle, his face turning toward the street. “Good. The sooner we get the keys, the sooner we can start moving the heavy equipment out of my dad’s garage.”
He got into the driver’s seat and started the engine before I could ask him what equipment he meant. I stood on the asphalt, the smell of exhaust mixing with the damp earth of the yard.
At two o’clock, the lobby of Oakhaven Bank smelled of old carpet and floor wax. We sat in two low chairs across from a young loan officer named Mr. Vance, whose desk was piled with manila folders.
“We have the down payment verification from your father, Clara,” Mr. Vance said.
“It should be in the escrow account by tomorrow afternoon,” I said.
Aaron leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, his voice quick and light. “And since the deed will be in Clara’s name, we can still file for a joint equity line later, correct?”
Mr. Vance stopped writing and looked up, his brow furrowing as he adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses. “The primary purchase is being structured as sole and separate property, Mr. Miller. Any subsequent lending would require a title search.”
“But we are married,” Aaron said. “The law views marital assets as a single unit after the purchase is finalized.”
Mr. Vance did not answer immediately. He looked at me, then back at Aaron, his pen hovering over the signature line of the disclosure form.
“We have a lot of family projects lined up,” Aaron said. “It would be easier if everything was under one umbrella.”
Mr. Vance stared at Aaron for a long moment before closing his folder. “The bank only cares about the name on the title, Mr. Miller. If your wife is the sole owner, she is the only one who can leverage the property.”
“Of course,” Aaron said, laughing, a short, dry sound that did not reach his eyes. “We just want to make sure we have options for future improvements.”
