The offer arrived Monday morning.
The buyers had not seen the house.
134 Franklin had gone on the market three days earlier for $369,000. The listing described the restored woodwork, pocket doors, fireplaces, updated kitchen, clawfoot tub, new roof, windows, furnace, water heater, electrical work, and a long list of other things that had changed since I bought the place.
The unfinished part was still the basement.
That Friday, just before the listing went live, I learned that the building department was not willing to call it conditioned storage. The ceiling was too low. The bathroom had the same problem. A state variance might work, but it would take time and there was no guarantee.
My response started with, “Wow, that's disappointing.”
That was the polite version.
I had spent years pulling the house back together. Now a decision made before I owned it could force more work, delay the sale, or push the listing into the “as is” category. I asked whether this changed the strategy and told the contractor to keep working the variance path.
Then the offer showed up.
The buyer's agent had not even scheduled a showing. The plan was to see the house for the first time at the inspection. My agent recommended accepting the offer, leaving the listing active, and continuing to show it until the inspection was complete and the buyers confirmed they wanted to proceed.
That made sense. I also wanted to be realistic about the open work. I asked whether we should anticipate a construction allowance or a price reduction if the buyers wanted to handle repairs themselves. I asked what accepting the offer meant for the parallel work to update the certificate of occupancy.
There was no victory lap. An offer was not a closing, especially from somebody who had only seen photographs.
I accepted the plan. The inspection was scheduled. The permit work kept moving.
The buyers would meet the house later.