Is It Green Inside?

A few years before Roger and I got married, I decided to buy a house. It made very good financial sense to be putting money into mortgage payments rather than rent. And it made especially good financial sense when I sold the property a few years later for a tidy profit.

My favorite option was a house on the NW corner of 500 East and Center Street in Provo. Tons of character, hardwood floors, lots of windows, a studio apartment over the garage that I could rent out for extra income.

For some reason, Roger asked me if it was green inside. It was such an absurd question that I thought I'd dreamed it. But it seemed so real. So a few days later I asked him, "Did you really ask me if the house was green inside?" He just stared at me.

Every once in a while, I'd ask him if he'd asked me such a strange question. Seriously, is it green inside? He'd just laugh. Finally, like years later, he confessed to me that he had indeed asked me that question, but he didn't give me a straight answer because it was too entertaining to watch me try to sort out whether it was reality or a dream. Yes, he downright played with my head like that.

I decided not to buy that house because I loved it too much. I wasn't ready for that kind of commitment, far too young to settle down. I put a deposit on a townhouse in a new development in Orem, but construction was taking too long so they returned my money. I ended up settling on a cute old pioneer house (256 N. 300 W. in Provo) that had been turned into a duplex. It was a good choice.

My heart still skips a beat, though, when I drive past that house on Center Street. It wasn't green inside back then. I wonder if it's green inside now.