Why was I so nervous? I’d either win this auction or I wouldn’t. This wasn’t the last property for sale in Newark

IF I missed this sheriff sale because of traffic, then….

Well, then, it obviously wasn’t bashert, I could hear Malky reasoning.

Yeah, I guess so. Wives always knew best, didn’t they? But I really, really didn’t want to miss it. I’d finally mustered the courage to register for an auction, and if I fell out before I even made a bid, I was one hopeless loser.

Compulsively, I switched between Rabbi Ehrlich’s parshah shiur, which was going straight over my head, and Yehuda Green’s Amar Abayeh, which wasn’t proving to be too soothing either. My speed hovered between five and fifteen mph. Nuts.

I cut Green off mid-word — never you mind, I’ll handle this on my own — and that’s when I noticed the brown paper bag on the passenger seat. Hey. How had I missed it?

I reached for the bag. Okay, Malky was adorable. A pastry, with a note from her pink cupcake notepad attached with the paper clip that held the bag closed. Dearest Gershon, Hatzlaaaaaacha!!!! Davening for you!!!! Hope you win!!!!!

Ha. So much for her purported bashert reasoning. Malky wanted this just as badly as I did.

She’d been itching to join me on this trip. “I won’t say a word, I just want to watch!” she begged. But the last thing I needed was a passenger at my side echoing every turn Waze instructed me to take. “It’ll make me more nervous,” I told her honestly.

I peeked into the bag: a chocolate-cheese croissant. Maybe later. No appetite now.

Why was I so nervous? I’d either win this auction or I wouldn’t. This wasn’t the last property for sale in Newark.

Not the last property, and by far not my first purchase. But it was the first sheriff sale I was attending, and I couldn’t help being hopeful. All the properties I’d purchased until now were nice — okay, more than nice; I could actually call them a portfolio — but still, deals you get from brokers, at market value, were just that: deals you get from brokers at market value. Slow and steady, no big wins.

I had a very good feeling about the property I was (hopefully — Grr, Verrazano…) bidding on that day. I’d spent the past three days researching this house. I’d made the trip out to inspect the exterior, dug up property records, conducted a title search, and even managed to get hold of interior photos — a deal breaker for me.

What could I say? I sincerely hoped it was bashert.

My brother Tuli called when I finally got off the bridge. “So this person wants to know if I could make him a construction policy and convert it to a tenant-occupied policy once construction is done. Is that something people normally do?”

I spent the next forty minutes coaching my kid brother, mainly encouraging him not to be afraid of risk, which was all he really needed to hear. I’d basically been telling him the same things for the past year, since he went out on his own in the insurance line. All the help, advice, and leads I could offer him from my own work experience were great, but it was Tuli’s lack of confidence that held him back from really breaking into the industry.

Today’s conversation was a great distraction from my nerves. I hung up when I finally pulled up in front of the Essex County Veterans Courthouse at eleven fifty-two, eight minutes before the auction was scheduled to start.

An hour later, I texted Malky: You can put down your Tehillim. I won.

I could barely process it. My twenty percent deposit was endorsed over to the Sheriff, in certified check, an Acknowledgment of Purchase and Conditions of Sale signed. I had thirty days to pay the balance, including the Realty Transfer Tax, and I was told to expect a Sheriff’s Deed within ten to fourteen business days,” the clerk explained. I’d need to address outstanding liens and satisfy encumbrances to obtain clear title.

Sure, sure, whatever you say.

401 Sunset Lane was mine.

Back in the car, Malky wanted to hear every last detail. “How does it work? Do they really start out with a hundred dollars? How many people bid? Hello, just tell me already! How much did we get it for?”

Her almost childlike excitement warmed me. I started answering her questions, but then two things happened at once.

I heard a frighteningly loud crash over the phone.

And I saw an incoming call from…

Yehuda Pillar?