Forget a Dowry, He Wants a Deed

Remember how it feels to be in the throes of early romance? The utter exhilaration, the goofy way you start giggling when you realize how lucky you are? How everything about the object of your affection looks great and sets your heart aglow? And how thankful you are that the one thing you’ve prayed for -- the one thing you want more than anything else -- is right before your eyes?

If so, then you can imagine how a longtime Southern California renter -- thought to be hopelessly relegated to a life without equity -- would feel about meeting someone who’s kind of nice ... and who owns a house.

In these days of sky-high home prices, could there be a more wildly romantic concept to a renter than “community property”?

It’s enough to turn a guy or gal to mush while dashing off a love letter:

“Dear Sweet-ums,

“I can’t believe my good fortune. What did I do to deserve someone like you with a 30-year fixed at 4.5%? Did my guardian angel send you? Do you understand that every time I look into your eyes and realize you had the foresight to buy your place at $148,000 and that it’s now worth 320K, I fall in love with you all over again?

“I love everything about you, from the 40-foot-deep frontyard with the brick and limestone pavers in the circular driveway to the swimming pool, rock garden and ornate bird-feeder in the backyard. Your landscaping is a delight, and the three-car garage makes my heart sing.

“How could I have known when we first met at the company softball game that you favored cove ceilings and had recently upgraded to a spiral staircase with picket spindles? You have to admit, you never said a word about that. Instead, you went on and on about our ‘compatibility quotient.’ I must tell you, love, that sounds rather old-fashioned when stacked up against your home’s hardwood floors and Aubusson rugs.

“Oh, listen to me prattle. You’d think I’d never been in love before.

“In a way, darling, I haven’t. At least not like this. I think I knew this was different when I first realized your home is located in a school district with astronomical API scores. At that moment, a little voice inside said to me, ‘You’re in love.’

“I realize I gave you cause for doubt early on. But when I said you were driving me insane with your incessant questions and mindless conversation, that was before I saw what you had done with the master bedroom. It is a thing of beauty and makes me understand more fully how ridiculous I’d been over the years in mounting my TV on cinderblocks.

“I’ll never forget the first time I saw your house. I mean, the first time I saw you in your house. What a vision. You never looked more adorable than with the sun cascading through the bay window in the breakfast nook. Following you through the French doors to your quarry stone patio, I felt as if I were walking on air, especially with the surround sound enveloping us from the CD player in the family entertainment center. At that moment, I craved having a family with you.

“If there were times before

I realized you owned that I

appeared inattentive or downright cold, of course you were right. What did you expect from someone who keeps cereal boxes on top of the refrigerator? When I saw the granite countertops, stainless-steel appliances and custom cabinets in your kitchen, it hit me with full force as to what a thoughtless fool I’d been.

“Haven’t I been better since then? Given your home’s proximity to freeways, shopping and entertainment, how could I not be?

“I guess what I’m saying is that we have been brought together for a special purpose.

“You have no idea how much I’m praying that our bubble never bursts.”

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Dana Parsons can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at

[email protected]. An archive of his recent columns is at www.latimes.com/parsons.