A Story About Choosing Your Home—and Your Life—in Las Vegas
Open the bookTwelve chapters. One important question.
What would make the move worth it for you?
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Will You Be Happier There?
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If you're considering a move to Las Vegas, this story will help you think through the decisions that shape how you live after you arrive. Whether you're coming from California or another part of the country, you deserve to feel prepared for the home search and the life you're choosing.
Through Elena and Daniel's experience, you'll see how an exciting possibility becomes a real decision. You'll learn to look beyond a beautiful model home, understand what belongs in the budget, and ask better questions before committing. When dates change or the couple wants different things, you'll see how they work through it—and where they could have made things easier.
Their experience can help you recognize assumptions in your own plans. Is the home right for an ordinary workday? What happens between leaving your current house and receiving the new keys? Which expenses could crowd out the things you hoped the move would give you?
You'll also explore the personal side of relocating: staying close to people you love, finding your own routines, and making room for what matters in a new place. Those questions deserve attention while you still have choices.
As you read, picture your own move. Notice what you would ask, what you would protect, and what you might do differently. The companion workbook gives you somewhere to turn those thoughts into a practical plan.
You don't need to have everything figured out to begin. Start with the life you want in Las Vegas. Let the story help you see what getting there could involve.
Back to contents ↑Daniel had found eleven homes worth seeing. Elena had found a breakfast place.
Between them, on the kitchen floor, a mixing bowl caught water from the cabinet under the sink.
“We could be doing this in a house we actually want to stay in,” Daniel said.
Elena handed him a towel. “Would you still want to move if the plumber came on a Tuesday?”
Their California house needed attention with the persistence of a small child. A repair led to an appointment. The appointment required someone to stay home. Saturday became the day they bought parts, waited for a professional, or finished whatever had been left unfinished the week before.
Daniel had begun opening home listings after dinner. Lately he opened them during dinner too.
Elena liked several of the houses. She liked fewer of the conversations that followed.
“New,” he would say, turning the screen toward her. “Think of that.”
She thought of their daughter, Mia, letting herself in on a Thursday with something from the bakery. She thought of her friend across the street who could tell from the porch light whether Elena was still awake. Neither appeared in a listing.
Daniel stood, washed his hands, and reopened the laptop. White kitchens filled the screen. Distant mountains stood behind yards that had apparently never required a trip to a hardware store.
Elena set a yellow notebook beside the computer. On the first page she had written, I would like to stop spending Saturday catching up.
He read it upside down and smiled.
“We agree.”
“About Saturday.”
He sat down more slowly.
“You don't want to go?”
“I want to find out what we're going toward. You sound as if anywhere with a new water heater would do.”
He started to answer, then looked at the bowl on the floor.
That evening Mia brought takeout. Daniel showed her a courtyard, a kitchen, and a view. Elena asked her about work.
“How often would you come back?” Mia asked eventually.
“You'll come see us,” Daniel said.
“I will. But I won't be five minutes away.”
Elena put down her fork. She had been trying to say that for weeks without sounding as if she expected Mia to remain available forever.
“I don't want you to stay because of me,” Mia added. “I just want us to talk about it like it's real.”
After she left, Daniel walked to the yellow notebook. He wrote visits on a clean page.
“We'll put money aside.”
“I don't only mean plane tickets,” Elena said. “It's the ordinary Thursday. Nobody plans those.”
“I hadn't thought about that part enough.”
They began again, this time with a day rather than a house. Daniel wanted to close a door for work and stop thinking about repairs every time he sat down. Elena wanted less to clean, somewhere to walk, and room for Mia to stay without anyone sleeping beside a printer.
Elena reached beneath the home brochures and pulled out a sketchbook. A grocery list fell from between its pages. Under it was half a drawing of the tree outside their kitchen.
“I used to finish these,” she said.
Daniel remembered. She used to come home from a drawing class with charcoal on her sleeve and an opinion about every tree they passed.
“Would you find another class?”
“I want to. I keep saying I'll do it when the house is caught up.” She put the sketchbook beside the notebook. “I'd like there to be something in the week that isn't work or looking after a house.”
They disagreed about size and how quickly to move. They agreed that the monthly cost had to leave room for seeing the people they loved. Elena added drawing to their ordinary-day page before she could decide it was too small to mention.
Daniel crossed six homes off his list. Two of the remaining five were there mainly because of their kitchens, and he admitted it.
Elena wrote a question below their notes.
What would make moving worth what we would leave behind?
Daniel left the laptop open, but he pulled the notebook closer.
Start with the ordinary day you want the move to improve.
What would the move need to improve for you to accept what it would change or leave behind?
Describe one ordinary day you want, then discuss it with anyone making the move with you.
Back to contents ↑Elena found Daniel at the kitchen table the next morning, watching a home video while his coffee cooled.
He sent her the link to the Summerlin New Homes Guide. She sent him a photograph of the cup.
“Research,” he said.
“Hydration,” she replied.
The map helped him arrange the homes in his head. He could preview rooms and look at communities without trying to remember where an advertisement had appeared. Elena began adding the places they might actually go during a week.
A home Daniel liked looked less convenient once those destinations were on the screen.
“It says near everything.”
“Does it say near my everything?”
Elena wrote What are we assuming in the notebook. Beside it she put near everything, then named the places they would actually use.
Their first conversation with Micah began with the notebook.
Daniel summarized the repairs. Elena described Mia's unplanned visits. Then she apologized for making a house search sound complicated.
“It will help to know what the house has to make room for,” Micah said.
“Can we ask questions before deciding to do anything?” she asked.
They discussed what the introductory conversation involved. Before any representation or service commitment, the written arrangements would need to explain the scope, fees, any builder contribution, and any amount the couple might owe. Elena wanted to understand that without guessing from an advertisement. Daniel wanted to know how visiting models worked.
He had a registration form open on another screen.
“Should I fill this out?”
They paused to check the particular builder's registration and accompaniment procedure. Daniel closed the form while that was confirmed. It was easier than trying to reconstruct a visit afterward.
Micah took the shortlist and visit arrangements. Daniel would contact a lender; Elena would arrange a conversation about selling their California home. They wrote the names and next calls beneath their questions.
“And if we're waiting for an answer?” Elena asked.
They settled on a communication channel, an expected update arrangement, and a follow-up contact.
Daniel mentioned a suggestion from his brother, Paul: buy something they could rent out if they changed their minds.
Micah added intended use to the questions for the builder, association, and lender. “Let's find out whether you could actually do that,” Micah said. Daniel put rental permission beside the suggestion, with the builder, association, and lender to ask. He added the provider names and credentials they still needed to verify.
After the call, Daniel opened the guide on his phone. The list he had saved on the laptop wasn't there.
“I thought it would know me.”
“I sometimes don't,” Elena said.
They kept the community names and links in their own notes and asked how sharing and saving worked. When a preview failed to load, they requested another way to see the home and confirmed the request was received.
The first tour request made the move feel suddenly close. Daniel began looking at flights.
Elena put a hand on his arm. They still needed the appointment time, meeting point, access details, and builder registration confirmation. They also needed a pace that worked with her knee, which she had been hoping wouldn't become part of the conversation.
“I can walk,” she said.
“You can also tell us what makes the day easier,” Daniel replied.
By the time they booked, they knew which homes were within Summerlin and which were nearby, what availability still needed checking, and which old incentive screenshots were simply questions to ask. They had confirmed the visit rather than treating a request as an appointment.
Daniel booked the trip. Elena booked breakfast. They left room in the schedule to sit down.
On their first morning in Las Vegas, they ate at Downtown Summerlin before visiting models. Shops and restaurants stood along the outdoor walkways. Elena watched a couple pause over coffee while someone else hurried past with a shopping bag.
Daniel asked whether she wanted to look in a shop before they left.
“After breakfast,” she said. “We're practicing.”
Confirm the visit and responsibilities before booking the trip.
What are you assuming your agent, website, or builder will handle that you have not yet discussed?
Choose a short list of homes and confirm the next appointment and responsibilities before arranging travel.
Back to contents ↑Elena stopped just inside the model's courtyard.
There was a small table under a patch of shade. A stem of something green lay beside a folded napkin. She imagined Mia putting down her bag and taking the chair nearest the door.
“Come look at this,” she called.
Daniel was still at the kitchen island. He came outside, and for a few minutes they wanted the same thing at the same time.
Renee, the builder's sales representative, showed them the plan. They followed her through rooms that looked ready for a quieter version of their life. Elena photographed the courtyard twice, once without Daniel in it so she could see the whole table.
“This would be lovely when Mia comes,” she said.
Daniel pictured the visit. Then he pictured an ordinary workday.
“Where was the office?”
The room they had been treating as his office opened onto the main living area. He stood in its doorway while Renee explained the available configuration. Elena walked to the far end of the living room and spoke in her normal voice. He heard every word.
“We'd figure something out,” she said.
He looked at her with an expression she recognized. It was the expression he wore when she explained the difference between a starting price and the amount they would spend.
“We wrote down a door,” he said.
Renee showed them the available configuration. Their practical enclosed alternative was the room they had intended for guests. Elena pictured Mia's bag beside a printer again.
“I know.”
“I work most days. Mia will visit some days.”
She put the phone in her bag. The sentence sounded unkind to her for a moment. Then she realized he was talking about the room, not their daughter.
Micah asked what had drawn them to the house.
Elena pointed toward the courtyard.
“What would you do there?”
“Breakfast. Sit and talk. Have Mia stay.”
“Let's keep those things on the list while we check this particular house.”
Renee helped them distinguish included features from model upgrades and excluded items. The windows, flooring, and outdoor scene belonged on a pricing and feasibility list. Elena looked again at the two glasses on the table. They were lovely. Someone had placed them there to make it easy to imagine a life.
Daniel asked to see the garage.
With permission to measure, they checked the garage opening and usable space against their car and workbench dimensions. Then they tried the next plan.
In the first garage, their measurements left room for the car but put the workbench into the space needed to open the passenger door comfortably. The second plan let them keep both.
“You brought measurements?” Elena asked.
“You kept saying actual car.”
She laughed. It was her phrase, and she hadn't expected him to use it against the house she loved.
The next home lacked the courtyard. Its office had a door, the rooms were easier to maintain, and there was a place near the patio where a small table could go. Elena took one photograph. It felt disloyal to take more.
Later they returned to a homesite at a different time of day. The afternoon light changed the yard. Nearby windows became harder to ignore. Elena held up the courtyard photograph and found herself comparing a staged space with a piece of ground that required decisions and money.
The wall's shade stopped short of the spot where she had imagined their table. She marked that on the plan and added a question about a feasible shade design and its cost.
Beyond the rooms, they checked the surroundings and actual driving routes. Renee distinguished existing amenities from plans. Shade, privacy, view protections, yard feasibility, and property risks still needed property-specific confirmation.
On another drive they went west on Charleston Boulevard toward Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area. The red-and-cream sandstone gave them a different picture of the valley from the one they had brought from California. Elena asked him to stop where parking was permitted. She took out the sketchbook and drew a line, rubbed it out, and tried again. Daniel waited without opening a listing. When they left, she put the unfinished drawing on her lap.
He added the outing to their list, then returned to the route they would actually drive for errands. Elena wanted time for both.
At dinner Elena reopened the courtyard photograph.
“I thought you were the one trying to move,” she said.
“I am.”
“You sounded ready to rule it out.”
“I want to move somewhere I can work. I don't want you to spend the next ten years whispering during my calls.”
She smiled despite herself.
Before they reorder the list, consider your own choice. Would you keep pursuing the courtyard, choose the more practical plan, or keep looking? What would you need to learn before deciding?
They compared the resale home they had seen in established surroundings, a quick move-in option, and the longer build. They still preferred making selections through a build, with the waiting and uncertainty that involved.
Elena dated a notebook entry May 11: Courtyard—office unresolved. Below it she wrote, Second plan—office door, guest room, garage fit checked. The photograph stayed where she could see it.
For the first time, Daniel had slowed her down. She wasn't grateful yet. She was listening.
Test the actual home against the needs you wrote down.
Which feature makes you want to excuse a problem you already know matters?
Test one essential requirement in the actual plan or lot before moving that home to the top of your list.
Back to contents ↑Daniel's brother, Paul, called as they were sorting photographs from the trip.
“What was the price on that courtyard place?”
Daniel gave him the starting price. Elena turned her chair.
“Is that the one we're using now?” she asked.
He covered the phone, then uncovered it. “We're still getting the version we'd actually buy priced.”
Paul had bought a home years earlier after negotiating a useful concession. He wanted them to find the same kind of opportunity. He wasn't trying to hurry them, but Daniel found it easy to borrow his confidence.
The written estimate made that harder.
One option began at $650,000. Beside it was a $20,000 lot premium.
“That's extra for that particular homesite?” Elena asked.
“Yes,” Renee said. “Separate from the options you've selected.”
With $15,000 in structural choices and $10,000 in design selections, the home price became $695,000. Closing and moving were still separate.
Daniel checked the arithmetic twice, as if the second addition might produce a different house.
“We barely changed it.”
“We changed the version,” Elena said.
They checked what was already included so they wouldn't count the same premium or option twice. Then they priced the things they had been allowing the model photographs to supply for free: window coverings, excluded items, an outdoor area, and furniture they might want rather than need.
On May 12, Daniel put Landscaping: $0 in the notebook.
“Later,” he explained.
Elena moved his pencil to the margin. “Does later mean nothing has to be done, or that we haven't checked?”
He drew one line through the zero so they could still read it. On May 14 he added, Cost unknown. Ask what must be completed and when; obtain a written quote. He left a space for the answer instead of inventing a number.
Their lender joined the next conversation. Daniel asked what they qualified for. Elena asked what they could comfortably keep paying after the move.
They reviewed the ongoing payment and any temporary benefit, the cash needed, loan terms, and the figures that were still estimates. They requested Loan Estimates, the forms showing estimated loan terms and costs, and asked about incentive conditions. Paul had suggested they could refinance later. Daniel raised it with the lender, then asked to see the plan without that assumption.
“Show me whether we can afford it without refinancing,” Daniel said. After the call he left the figures open, waiting for Elena to sit down.
She tapped a page she had prepared. It included visits to California. Beneath it were their household reserve and the things they wanted to keep doing after they owned the home.
“What if we just travel less at first?” he asked.
She stared at him.
“You said we'd put money aside.”
“Only at first.”
“How long is that?”
“I don't know yet.”
She closed the notebook. He started to explain the numbers again, but she was already taking their plates to the sink.
They ate breakfast the next morning without reopening the conversation. Daniel carried his coffee outside. Elena stayed in the kitchen, finishing the tree in her sketchbook. She had to rub out the same branch twice.
Later, while she sorted a cupboard, he brought over the revised comparison. A stack of chipped mugs stood between them.
“I left the visits in,” he said.
She looked at the line. He had restored the amount they had agreed, then reduced the allowance for new furniture instead. The plan still needed the remaining cost answers.
“Are you okay with that?” she asked.
“I want the house to work. But yes.” He put down his coffee. “We have chairs.”
She moved a mug so he could leave the page beside her. “Thank you.”
That afternoon Micah joined their call with the comparison open. The reserve and visits stayed on the page while they worked through the questions.
Daniel pointed to two lines in their comparison. “Are we paying this insurance twice?”
“The monthly escrow account sets aside money for bills such as property tax and insurance,” the lender explained. “This insurance estimate is already in that payment.”
Their other line was a duplicate. Elena crossed it out.
“And this tax figure is for the completed home?” she asked.
That still needed confirmation. They marked it unknown and kept the request open. They did the same with association charges and parcel-specific assessments. “Cash to close means the money still needed at closing?” Daniel asked.
The closing contact nodded and showed them the calculation: their contribution toward the price and closing charges, adjusted for deposits, credits, and other items. It was not just the down payment.
As those figures arrived, they compared the homes again. The plainer plan left room for visits and a reserve without depending on a future refinance. The office and garage worked. They could plan an outdoor space gradually after investigating its requirements.
They used a $650,000 total home-price allowance for the plainer option, checked against its written pricing and then reconciled to their final selections. It was a different comparison from the courtyard model's starting price. Closing and moving cash still had their own page.
Elena brought up the courtyard once more.
“I really did picture her there.”
“I know,” Daniel said. He looked at the picture with her. “I was already trying to make the numbers work. Before we knew all of them.”
She reached for his hand. They had both been doing it, in different ways.
They moved the courtyard home down the list. Elena kept the picture. Daniel crossed out the suggestion to reduce travel.
He wrote another question beside it: What are we giving up to choose this?
Compare the full cost while protecting the life you want.
What part of your life would an appealing home quietly ask you to spend less on?
Separate home price, closing and moving cash, ongoing costs, and the commitments you intend to protect.
Back to contents ↑Back in California, they were still comparing the build with their other choices when they began preparing their house for sale. It looked its best that week.
With the counters clear and repairs arranged, Elena could see the room where Mia had done homework while dinner cooked. Daniel found the pencil marks inside a closet doorway. He had forgotten the smallest ones.
“We could stay,” Elena said.
He leaned against the door frame.
“We could.”
She had expected an argument. The quiet answer made room for the part she had been embarrassed to say.
“You're going to think I'm changing my mind every time I get upset.”
“Are you?”
“Not exactly.”
Daniel took a photograph of the pencil marks. “Okay. We don't have to decide while we're standing in the closet.”
She nodded, then looked away before he could turn the moment into a decision.
Their California agent, Jo, arrived with a net proceeds estimate. Daniel had been starting with the sale price he hoped to receive. “Net proceeds are what remains after the mortgage payoff, selling costs, and other deductions,” Jo said. She showed them the estimate and its assumptions.
Daniel put two dates on the table: when he hoped to leave and when he hoped the new home would be ready.
“Those are plans,” Jo said. “Let's find the events that have to happen between them.”
Their lender needed the sale and funds sequence, existing obligations, and Daniel's actual employment arrangements after moving. Daniel had assumed keeping the same work meant there was nothing to discuss. He supplied the information the lender required rather than relying on that assumption.
They compared selling first, buying first, and allowing an overlap. Jo and Micah put the two transactions on one timeline. The lender added the funding events; the closing contacts added the signing steps. Their tax and ownership questions, including their existing trust arrangements, went on a separate list for qualified advice before instructions became urgent.
At the next meeting, Elena asked where they would live if the sale finished before possession of the new home.
Daniel started to say it probably wouldn't happen. Jo waited.
“We need to price it,” he said instead.
They checked temporary housing, storage, delivery arrangements, and the terms for changing them. Daniel disliked paying for flexibility. Elena disliked imagining a second move. They kept the backup page anyway, with current questions and dates to review.
Mia came that evening for a lamp. Elena had set it beside three other things she thought her daughter might want.
“I live in an apartment,” Mia said.
“You could rearrange.”
“Or you could keep a lamp.”
They laughed, and then Elena cried, which was inconvenient with both of them holding lamps.
Mia put hers down and hugged her.
“You don't have to give away everything before you know where it goes.”
Daniel left them for a few minutes. In the garage he found a tool he'd kept through three cleanouts because someday it might be useful. He put it in the donate box before he could negotiate with himself.
Later they opened a calendar with Mia. They talked about visits without requiring anyone to promise more than they could manage. Elena called her friends and made specific plans rather than accepting a chorus of we'll keep in touch.
When the house went on the market, Daniel felt relieved. Elena felt relieved and sad. He stopped asking which feeling was the real one.
The closet photograph went into their personal folder. It did not need a box on the moving truck.
Put both homes on one coordinated timeline.
Which event in your current home or finances has to happen before the next purchase can work?
Build a shared timeline with the responsible contacts and one priced backup for a gap between homes.
Back to contents ↑Several weeks later, with the California house on the market, Daniel was holding a bag of apples when the message arrived.
The lot they preferred was available. Renee could provide the documents, but there was a decision deadline that afternoon.
He stood beside the display and called Elena.
“We need to talk now.”
She heard the urgency before she heard the details.
The plan was the one with the closed office, a workable garage, and room for visits. They had been waiting for a lot that fit their priorities. There were still points to clarify, but Daniel could already picture the search ending.
“Send it to me,” Elena said.
At home he put the apples on the table beside the agreement. She moved them to the counter. He immediately brought the table back into use by opening his laptop in the cleared space.
“I don't want to lose it.”
“Neither do I.”
“You don't sound like it.”
She looked up. “I haven't read it yet, Daniel.”
They called Micah and confirmed what the deadline required. Renee explained the documents and the builder's process. The lender had already assessed a path for their circumstances, including the sale sequence, but they needed to understand this agreement's terms before relying on it.
Elena placed her finger beside a deposit provision.
“If the California sale takes longer, what happens to this money?”
Daniel began answering with what he remembered from a conversation. She kept her finger on the page.
“I need the answer for this agreement.”
“Show us where the agreement answers that,” Micah said. They sent the unclear provision for advice, then read the explanation beside the actual document. They checked the deposit, contingencies, cancellation and change provisions, and financing conditions. Daniel stopped calling the payment a reservation.
The answer Elena received did not give them the blanket escape she wanted. A delayed California sale would not, by itself, give them whatever cancellation right they preferred. Their own terms and circumstances needed to govern the decision.
She leaned back.
“Then we're taking a risk.”
Daniel glanced at the time. “There's a risk in waiting too.”
“I know. I just don't want to find out afterward that we misunderstood.”
He walked to the sink, filled a glass, and left it there. The room felt too small for a decision about another house.
Micah asked what still needed to be true for them to proceed.
Elena wrote What would change our decision at the top of a new page. A financing path that no longer worked, unexplained deposit exposure, or a gap they couldn't afford would each require another choice. Losing the lot to someone else was a possibility too, but it couldn't answer those questions for them.
Pause before their answer. Would you proceed with the timing risk, ask for more time knowing the lot might go, or let this one pass? Which unanswered question would decide it for you?
Their budget, assessed financing path, estimated sale proceeds, and priced backup were in place. They had investigated the lot and checked the important agreed terms against the documents. There were conditions still to satisfy, but they could explain their plan.
But Elena had been treating the construction estimate as something firmer than it was.
Renee distinguished the estimate from the contract's timing provisions. They obtained advice on unclear terms and checked the effect of an earlier or later handover on their sale, funding, and bookings.
Daniel opened the backup housing page.
“If we're in a rental for a while,” Elena asked, “do we still keep the visits?”
He wanted to say yes immediately. Instead they checked the figures and the range of circumstances they were prepared to accept.
Under the backup they had priced, they could preserve both by delaying discretionary spending. They understood its limits and the point at which another decision would be needed.
By the time the final answers arrived, Daniel had stopped refreshing the message thread. He read the relevant pages himself.
They decided to proceed under the agreement they had reviewed. Elena recorded their reasoning in the notebook, including the timing uncertainty and deposit exposure they accepted. Their private note did not change their contract. It would help them remember why they had said yes.
Daniel sat beside her after the signing was finished.
“Were you close to saying no?”
“Yes.”
He looked startled.
“I almost asked for another day,” he said. “Then I thought you'd say yes, and we'd lose it.”
“You could have told me.”
“I know.”
They called Mia together. For once, they described the home they had chosen without beginning with the features it didn't have.
Understand the commitment before answering the deadline.
What uncertainty are you accepting by proceeding, and do you understand its consequences under the agreement?
Before committing, record the unresolved questions, obtain the relevant answers, and write down why the choice still fits your plan.
Back to contents ↑After signing the purchase agreement, they returned to Las Vegas for the design appointment. They still owned the California house; the new one existed mostly in plans and selections.
Elena picked up a drawer handle and put it back. The second one felt better in her hand.
“That one,” she said.
Daniel was looking at flooring. He had found a sample that made every other sample look like an apology.
They had prepared for the large choices. They were less prepared for the pleasure of improving small things, one reasonable increment at a time.
The total changed while they were discussing whether they would notice the difference.
“It's only a little more,” Daniel said.
Elena opened their running list. “We've said that six times.”
He turned the sample over. She could see him trying to dislike it.
“You don't have to pretend the cheaper one is your favorite,” she said.
“That would make this easier.”
They returned to the decisions that supported their daily needs. Structural or layout choices had to be handled within the builder's process and deadlines. Finishes were preferences with different costs. Deferring a change would require its own investigation; later didn't automatically make it possible, simpler, or cheaper.
Daniel kept a feature that supported the office. Elena chose a kitchen finish she liked and left a second decorative upgrade undecided.
“I'm going to notice it,” she said.
“For how long?”
“I don't know. I just like it.”
He set down the flooring sample. “All right. Let's put them both in the total and look.”
They sat with the revised amount for a while before choosing what to keep.
The outdoor plan occupied a separate folder. They had already given up the courtyard model. Elena was determined to have a place for a table. Daniel had quietly added a pool to his imagined first summer.
“When did we agree to that?” she asked.
“We didn't. I was thinking.”
“Expensively.”
They requested information about the actual space, access, utilities, easements, approvals, and suitable professional evaluation before counting on a project. They set aside money for an initial practical outdoor area, subject to those checks. The larger idea stayed undecided.
Their selection list needed more than a total. They recorded deadlines, approval arrangements, prices, and the current version. Renee showed them how revisions were handled in this transaction.
That conversation mattered later in the summer. Construction was under way in Nevada; they were still living in California and clearing the house for another showing.
A proposed substitution arrived while Daniel was taping a carton in the garage. He balanced his phone on the box, enlarged the small image, and said it seemed close enough.
Elena came out carrying the vacuum. “Is that the same one?”
“They say it's the replacement.”
“That's not what I asked.”
He took his hand off the tape. They sent the question through the builder's process and requested the specifications and a better comparison.
The difference was clearer when they had the right information. “Does it work the same way, or just look similar?” Elena asked.
The specifications showed a difference they would use every day. On a call with Renee, they compared the alternatives, prices, and timing. Daniel sat on the garage step with the revised document open. Before he taped the carton shut, they completed the required response and saved the new selection beside the dated original.
At the model, Elena still liked the original kitchen. She could now walk through it without mentally buying every feature.
Daniel photographed the handle they had chosen and sent it to Paul.
Paul replied, Looks like a handle.
Elena laughed so hard she had to sit down. They had spent part of a morning learning to live with it, and he had given it four words.
They finished the selections within the budget they had agreed. Some choices were practical. Some were simply things they loved. The visits and reserve remained on their own pages.
The reconciled home-price record totaled $650,000. Daniel kept that figure with the dated selections so the lender would be working from the same home they had actually chosen.
Keep small upgrades in one running total.
Which small upgrades are adding up to a choice you would question if you saw the total first?
Update one dated selection list with the combined cost, approval deadline, and source of each revision.
Back to contents ↑By early September, their California sale was under contract. They were packing there while the new home in Nevada was still being built.
Daniel sent Elena the construction photograph with two words: Looking good.
She enlarged it on her phone. A window had gone in. Beyond it, the sky was bright enough to make the unfinished room look almost habitable.
She showed the photograph to Jo, who was reviewing the next steps in their California sale.
“That's exciting,” Jo said. “What is the current schedule saying?”
Elena realized she had been answering that question with the picture.
The revised estimate arrived later that afternoon. Completion had moved. Their California buyer's plans had not moved with it.
Daniel called while Elena was standing among boxes in the dining room.
“How much later?”
“We need more information.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I have the same message you do.”
He went quiet. She could hear traffic through his car window. He had been imagining that their next trip would end with keys. She had been imagining being able to stop answering Mia's questions with probably.
Renee explained the revised construction estimate and what still had to happen. Micah brought the affected dates together. The lender and closing contacts checked the loan and closing consequences; Jo checked the California sale. Their replies did not arrive in the same order as their worries.
The first message Daniel sent tried to make everyone responsible for everything. The replies arrived in different threads, each answering part of a different question.
Elena printed the messages and spread them on the table.
“Which one tells us where we live?”
Daniel sat down.
“None of them.”
They reopened the backup page. The housing quote needed checking, the mover needed dates, and the lender needed the changed schedule.
Daniel took the housing and mover questions. Elena took the next construction questions and kept the shared record. They would make the consequential choices together.
The first temporary apartment they had priced was no longer available for the dates they needed.
Daniel scrolled back to the provider's last message. He had meant to follow up on Friday. Nobody had put the call on the calendar.
That apartment had been close to the storage facility. Now they spent the evening calling alternatives and checking a different route. The place Elena called last had stairs she wanted to avoid. She crossed it off without discussing her knee again.
The old quote was still in their folder. The apartment wasn't waiting with it.
Daniel stared at the screen. “We should have booked it.”
“We didn't know.”
“We knew it might happen.”
Elena closed her folder. For weeks she had wanted him to acknowledge that. Now she wished he hadn't said it as an accusation against both of them.
They found two temporary-housing quotes. The first showed $2,400 for a minimum thirty-night stay. The second showed $2,600 for twenty-eight nights.
“The first one,” Daniel said. “At least something is less.”
Elena turned to the next page. “What happens if we need five weeks?”
He called the first provider with the written terms open. Another week would trigger another full thirty-night rental charge: $2,400 again. They would pay $4,800 in rent for the thirty-five nights they were comparing.
The second provider could quote those thirty-five nights now: $2,600 plus $650 for the extra seven. Both quotes added a $150 cleaning fee. Each also required a $500 refundable deposit, with its own return conditions. They checked the other charges and cancellation terms rather than assuming those lines told the whole story.
Daniel wrote the comparable costs beside each other: $4,950 and $3,400, with the deposits shown separately.
“I was comparing the first number,” he said.
“So was I.”
Before they book, which matters more to your choice: the cheaper first period, the cost of the stay you may need, or keeping the search open? What would you ask about another delay?
They asked both providers about dates beyond those quotes. Neither had promised indefinite availability. The couple would need a new answer if their stay ran longer.
They booked the second option for the thirty-five nights in its written quote. On September 10, Elena recorded the dates, included charges, deposit terms, and cancellation conditions. Daniel took the next housing check. They set a review before the booking ended and kept a backup provider to contact if more nights were unavailable. The new construction estimate could still move.
That night Daniel suggested moving money from the travel allowance until they knew the final cost.
Elena pushed the notebook toward him.
“We already talked about that.”
“I'm trying to get us through the gap.”
“So am I. I just don't want getting us through it to mean that the things I need keep becoming optional.”
He heard the argument beneath the numbers. She was afraid the move would take more from her every time it became inconvenient.
“Then tell me what else we can cut,” he said.
She looked away. He started to say something else, then picked up the keys.
“Do you want to walk?”
They took a walk before trying again.
Back at the table, they looked at the discretionary purchases they had planned for the first months. Some could wait. They checked that postponing them was compatible with the property's requirements and their other arrangements. They preserved the reserve and the visits under the housing plan they selected, while accepting a later start on several things they wanted.
When a response missed the agreed date, Daniel drafted another long email. Then he deleted most of it.
“We need the next schedule update to decide whether to extend housing. Who will provide it, and by when?”
He sent it to the agreed contact and used the escalation contact when needed. The next reply named a person and a date. Elena entered both in the notebook.
They completed the California sale under its own arrangements and moved into temporary housing. Their household was in storage except for the things they needed for the gap. Elena kept the yellow notebook in her overnight bag.
On their first morning there, Daniel put a folded receipt under the wobbly table. Elena made coffee and set down two mugs.
“Looking good,” she said.
He looked at the table, then at her, and laughed.
The next construction date remained an estimate. They had somewhere to sit while they waited.
A backup plan needs current availability and a named next check.
If the expected date changes, which part of your plan becomes difficult first?
Update the shared timeline with the changed date, affected arrangements, named owners, and next review date.
Back to contents ↑Two weeks into their temporary stay in Las Vegas, they were still waiting for the new home. Most of their furniture was in storage.
The lender called while Elena was looking at patio tables.
She closed the page when Daniel put the phone on speaker.
The appraisal, an appraiser's opinion of the property's value, came in at $640,000 against their $650,000 contract price.
“We were planning an eighty-percent loan-to-value ratio,” the lender said. “That compares the loan with the property's value. For this option, the lower appraisal reduces the loan we are comparing.”
Daniel drew two columns in the notebook.
Fictional example with the same assumed 80 percent loan to value ratio
| Toward the purchase price | Earlier plan | Lower appraisal |
|---|---|---|
| Contract price | $650,000 | $650,000 |
| Value used for comparison | $650,000 | $640,000 |
| Loan at assumed 80 percent | $520,000 | $512,000 |
| Buyers funds toward the price | $130,000 | $138,000 |
“The appraisal is ten thousand lower, but we need eight thousand more?” Elena asked.
“In this comparison, yes. Eighty percent of that ten thousand is eight thousand. The loan is smaller; the contract price hasn't changed.”
The extra $8,000 was their larger contribution toward the price, not a new fee. Other loan terms or a negotiated price could change the result. Closing costs, deposits, and credits still had to be reconciled separately.
Daniel underlined the difference. Elena opened the budget.
“We have the money,” he said after the call.
“Which money? The reserve, or the patio money?”
He looked toward the laptop she had closed. She looked there too.
“Can we change the loan, or ask for a different price?” Daniel asked.
The lender explained the financing choices available to them. They took the price and deposit questions back to the agreement and the people advising them on it. Wanting another option did not make it an available one.
One available option still fit their budget if the initial patio project could wait. They checked the property requirements before counting on that deferral.
Elena opened the folder of outdoor photographs.
“First the courtyard. Now this.”
Daniel pulled his chair closer. She didn't want him to tell her the table didn't matter. It was the place where she kept imagining the people she missed.
“I know I keep saying it can wait,” he said. “I'm sorry.”
He waited. She left the photographs open between them.
She rubbed her forehead.
“We can still have breakfast.”
“Inside, for now.”
They accepted the reviewed arrangement, preserving the reserve and visits. Daniel saved the new figures beside the dated earlier plan.
Daniel found the question he had written after the model comparison: What are we giving up to choose this? They put the patio beside the answer. This time both knew what the line meant.
Elena moved the patio photographs into a folder labeled later.
When the Closing Disclosure arrived, their lender explained that it showed the final loan terms and closing costs. Elena put the latest Loan Estimate beside it.
“Start with the cash we still have to bring,” she said. “Then show us why it changed.”
Their lender and closing contact walked through the differences in terms, payments, costs, and credits. Daniel followed each explanation to a line on the page. They also confirmed the insurance arrangements and signing plan they would use while traveling between states.
He closed the notebook. For once, they had reached the end of the questions they had brought to that call.
That evening they ate outside the temporary apartment with paper napkins under their plates. Elena sketched the shape of the chair opposite her. Daniel held still for almost a minute before asking whether he was allowed to drink.
They stayed until the light was no longer useful. The figures would still be in the folder tomorrow.
The next afternoon, an email arrived saying the payment instructions had changed.
Daniel was tired. The name looked familiar. The message sounded as though finishing quickly would help everyone.
He moved the cursor toward the phone number in the email.
“Wait,” Elena said.
He took his hand off the mouse.
She found the contact information they had established earlier with the closing professional. They used that trusted channel to independently verify the instructions and did not act on the unexpected email. They reported the message to the appropriate contacts for investigation.
“I was going to call,” he said.
“I know. That was the number it wanted you to call.”
He leaned back and let the realization settle.
Daniel wrote Verified through our established closing contact beneath the email question. The actual instructions stayed in the secure channel. He kept only the document name and location in their notebook, away from credentials and identity records.
After dinner Daniel replaced the receipt beneath the table with a folded piece of cardboard. It stopped wobbling.
Elena applauded from the couch.
“One repair,” he said. “And then I retire.”
Verify changed figures and instructions before sending money.
What would you need to verify before sending your money?
Reconcile the final figures with your lender and closing contact, then verify payment instructions through the trusted contact method established earlier.
Back to contents ↑When the builder arranged their walkthrough, the couple was still living in the temporary apartment. The movers had no instruction to deliver until possession was confirmed.
The new house sounded larger without furniture.
Daniel spoke from the kitchen and heard his voice return from a room they had already furnished in their minds. Elena crossed to the patio door. There was still no table outside, but she could see where she wanted one.
“We can put the little one here,” she said, pointing to a spot indoors.
He pictured their old breakfast table near the glass. It was the first piece of furniture either of them had placed without opening a shopping site.
They brought their independent inspection records, where access had been permitted, and the responses to the concerns raised. They had arranged the appropriate evaluation rather than treating new construction as proof that everything would be right.
At the walkthrough, Elena opened a cabinet and watched the door drift out of line.
“That one,” she said.
Daniel wrote the location and took a photograph. They checked the selections against the current record and compared the work with the relevant reports. Concerns requiring technical judgment went to the appropriate inspector or professional.
One item was marked complete in a response. The cabinet hadn't received that message.
Elena found the original note. They requested acknowledgment and the appropriate check of what had actually been done.
Daniel's phone showed a message from the mover. He looked at the delivery window, then at the cabinet.
“I don't want to move the truck again.”
“I don't want to pretend we didn't see it.”
Neither of them spoke for a moment. They were tired enough to understand the temptation to call a problem small before learning what it involved.
“Is this being fixed before we close, or afterward?” Elena asked.
They asked the builder and closing contacts to explain the arrangement in writing, including who would do the work and how they would confirm it. They obtained advice on the unclear rights and obligations. A punch list alone did not answer whether closing should proceed.
They accepted the written arrangements for the open items and kept the findings and rechecks together.
Then they asked about keys.
The house looked ready enough to imagine carrying in a box. They still needed the responsible builder and closing professionals to explain the applicable completion and occupancy documentation, closing steps, and contractual possession conditions. They waited for those confirmations rather than directing the truck toward an assumption.
Practical preparations followed: access, utilities, the delivery arrangement, and the contacts they would need at handover. The boundary and maintenance information they had reviewed stayed with their property records. A visible wall alone had not answered every responsibility.
During orientation, Daniel tried to memorize the equipment instructions. After the third explanation he asked where the written information lived.
“I remember that you explained it,” he told the provider. “I'm not sure that will operate it.”
They collected the manuals and the actual warranty reporting and maintenance information, including relevant manufacturer documents. They kept the correct service contacts and appropriate urgent contacts accessible. Elena asked how to follow up on an unanswered request before there was one.
When the closing and possession conditions were confirmed and they received the keys, Daniel put them in his pocket. Then he took them out again.
Elena watched him turn the key over in his hand.
“Does it feel like relief?” she asked.
He looked around the unfinished rooms, then at the place near the glass.
“Yes. But I think we still have to live here.”
She smiled. “We'd better get the table.”
Confirm the work before marking an item finished.
What evidence do you need before treating a repair or possession date as confirmed?
Keep the walkthrough findings, responses, recheck information, and confirmed handover arrangements in one record.
Back to contents ↑The first evening, Elena couldn't find the coffee.
Daniel had packed it in a box labeled important. There were four boxes labeled important. One contained extension cords.
They ate dinner on the floor, pleased to be there and too tired to make it look convincing. The house echoed when they spoke. Elena missed the familiar sound of her California neighbor's gate.
The next day a piece of furniture arrived damaged. Daniel wanted to set it aside until they were settled. Elena photographed it with the delivery record in view. They notified the appropriate provider and checked the applicable claim terms and reporting deadlines before later became a missed opportunity.
By the end of the first week, Daniel had his first long call in the new office. Elena was at the breakfast table trying a drawing exercise, music playing softly beside her.
When his door opened, she reached for the volume.
“You don't have to,” he said.
“You could hear it?”
“Not with the door closed.” He looked toward the guest room, where the printer had never needed to go. “That was worth measuring.”
They still had utilities, records, and relocation tasks to finish. They checked the agency dates and learned the unfamiliar systems from their manuals. The thermostat stopped being a contest Daniel expected to win by pressing more buttons.
Then the first ownership bill that differed from their estimate arrived.
“Did we miss something?” Elena asked.
Daniel set the statement beside the budget. They checked the billing period and what the figure included, then asked the provider to explain the difference. They requested any needed correction and updated the plan when they understood it.
The cabinet request took longer than they wanted. They kept the original report, photographs, acknowledgment, and expected next step. When it remained open, they followed the applicable warranty escalation process and kept track of the relevant reporting requirements. Micah helped them review the open items; the builder remained responsible for its service work.
Their outdoor project remained deferred. They used the time to investigate the approvals and requirements for the actual property. A referral gave them someone to research, with licensing, insurance, scope, references, and cost still to check before hiring. Elena looked at the photographs less often.
On a Thursday evening, she found herself listening for the door.
Mia had said she might call. She had a late meeting instead.
Daniel found Elena looking through pictures of the old kitchen.
“You can say it,” he told her.
“Say what?”
“That you miss being there.”
She started crying before she could decide whether she wanted to.
He sat down beside her. He did not open a map or remind her about the new office.
“I thought you'd think I was saying we shouldn't have moved.”
“I might have, a few months ago.”
She handed him a photograph of Mia leaning against the old counter. Nothing about the picture was special enough for a frame. That was why she liked it.
They talked about the things a house could not arrange for them. Elena called her California friend and picked a time for their next conversation instead of leaving it at soon.
The following week she tried a drawing group she had found and checked for herself. At the doorway she nearly turned back. Everyone seemed to know where the chairs belonged.
A woman moved her bag from the seat beside her. “First time?”
Elena nodded.
“Good. You can be new with me. It's my second.”
Her drawing was awkward. She stayed anyway. When Daniel asked how it went, she showed him the page rather than saying she had made friends already.
“I'm going back next week,” she said.
They gave the new routine time. A class would not answer every hard evening; persistent distress could need other support. Elena could miss her old life and still put something of her own into the next week.
When Mia's visit was finally on the calendar, Elena began apologizing for the unfinished yard.
“Mom,” Mia said, “am I coming to inspect the landscaping?”
Elena laughed and crossed an unnecessary purchase off the list.
The coffee turned up in a box marked bathroom.
Daniel held it up like a trophy.
“The document folder is better,” he said.
She had to admit it was.
Follow up on property problems while building your own routine.
Which difficulty after moving needs a service response, and which needs time, routine, or personal support?
Set one review date for open property items and make one specific plan that helps you feel connected.
Back to contents ↑Several weeks after receiving the keys, Elena wanted to finish three things before Mia arrived.
By Friday afternoon the list contained seven.
Daniel found her wiping a counter that was already clean. The little breakfast table stood near the patio door, with a chair borrowed from his office because one of theirs was still in a box.
“She knows we just moved,” he said.
“I know.”
“She also knows us.”
Elena set down the cloth. She had imagined this visit in the courtyard model before they knew its real price. Now she wanted the smaller house and unfinished yard to prove that they had chosen well. It was an exhausting assignment to give a weekend.
Mia arrived with a bag over one shoulder and a bakery box under her arm.
Elena began describing what would eventually happen outside.
Mia put down the box.
“Can I see where I'm sleeping first?”
They showed her the guest room. Daniel moved the last unpacked carton away from the bed. Mia opened the closet, laughed at the empty space, and hung up a jacket as if she had done it before.
Mia noticed the sketchbook on the counter. Elena showed her the first drawing from the group, then the unfinished rocks from their house-hunting trip.
“Are you going again?” Mia asked.
“Wednesday. I already put it on the calendar.”
Mia smiled and turned the page. Elena did not explain it away as something to fill the time between visits.
Before dinner they took her to Downtown Summerlin. They walked past shops and restaurants along the outdoor walkways and picked up food to bring home. Mia asked where they liked to get coffee. Elena could answer without reaching for a map. She had wanted to show her daughter a finished house; showing her a small piece of their week felt easier.
At dinner she told them about a difficult week at work. Nobody discussed lot premiums. Elena realized she had missed an entire conversation while deciding whether the room looked finished enough.
Later Mia wandered into the kitchen for water and opened the cabinet that had been adjusted during the week. Elena had checked the work against the report before closing that item in their record. The door stayed where it belonged.
“Glasses?” Mia asked.
Daniel pointed. She found one without a tour.
The next morning he woke to the sound of a spoon touching a cup.
Elena and Mia were at the small table. The bakery box was open. Beyond the glass, the yard was still waiting for its own turn in the budget.
“There's room,” Elena said.
He brought the office chair over and sat down.
Mia told them she had slept well. Daniel started to explain the bedroom choice, then decided that she hadn't asked for its history.
Elena watched her daughter reach for another piece of pastry.
The yellow notebook sat on a shelf nearby. Daniel fetched it and opened the first page.
I would like to stop spending Saturday catching up.
Mia read it.
“How's that going?”
Elena looked toward an unpacked carton. “We're practicing.”
They showed her the old closet photograph. Daniel had saved the pencil marks at every height.
“I peaked early,” Mia said, pointing to the last one.
Elena laughed, then said she still missed Thursdays.
“Me too,” Mia said.
There was no better answer to arrange around it. They lived farther apart. The visit didn't erase that.
But Mia had stayed through an evening and into the next morning, with another day ahead. They could make room for the relationship in this shape too. The money they had protected for visits now belonged to a person sitting at their table.
Mia asked whether they wanted to walk somewhere or stay a while.
Elena looked at Daniel. The seven things on her list waited in the kitchen.
“Stay,” she said.
He put the notebook back on the shelf. There were open items in their home record, plans they would revisit, and a patio they still wanted. They knew where those things belonged and when to return to them.
Mia reached for the coffee. Elena moved the bakery box so Daniel could put down his cup.
Nobody had an appointment. They stayed until the coffee cooled.
Judge the home by the life it helps you live.
How will you recognize that the home is making room for the life you wanted?
Return to your description of a good ordinary day and choose one thing to do before improving the house again.
Back to contents ↑Write down the three things your next home must make easier. Be specific: a quiet place to work, fewer chores, room for visits, or a routine you can enjoy.
Bring those three things to our first conversation. We can start with what matters to you, where you are in the move, and the questions that need answers before choosing homes. You can use the personal move plan on workbook pages 5 to 7 and the adaptation guide on page 99.
To discuss your Summerlin new-home search, contact Micah Rhett at Luxe Legacy Realty Group. Before proceeding with a service, confirm the scope, representation, fees, communication arrangements, and third-party responsibilities.
Micah Rhett · Broker Owner
Luxe Legacy Realty Group
Summerlin New Homes Guide
https://sprightly-lebkuchen-93af42.netlify.app
Use the guide to explore and narrow choices. Confirm current features, property information, prices, incentives, availability, and appointments with the responsible source. Keep important notes and links somewhere you control.
Back to contents ↑The resources below support particular questions in the story. They do not verify a property, a provider, or your eligibility. Review the current information and obtain advice for your circumstances. Resource pages were consulted October 19 2026. The couple, transaction, prices, outcomes, and conversations remain fictional.
For Chapter Four, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau explains comparing Loan Estimates for the selected loan scenario, including loan terms, payments, lender costs, credits, and cash to close. Ask why tax and insurance assumptions differ rather than treating those differences as lender savings.
https://www.consumerfinance.gov/owning-a-home/compare/compare-loan-estimates/
For Chapter Nine, the CFPB Closing Disclosure explainer provides a starting point for checking final loan details and costs against your latest Loan Estimate and raising unexpected differences with your lender.
https://www.consumerfinance.gov/owning-a-home/closing-disclosure/
For Chapter Nine, the FBI describes business email compromise and the importance of independently verifying payment and account changes using a trusted contact method. If you suspect a fraudulent transfer, contact your financial institution immediately and report it through the appropriate channels.
https://www.fbi.gov/how-we-can-help-you/common-frauds-and-scams/business-email-compromise
For Chapters Two and Three, official Summerlin maps and guides provide a starting point for exploring the area. Confirm the exact address, relevant associations, dues, amenities, and property-specific circumstances separately.
https://summerlin.com/about/maps-guides/
Fannie Mae explains that an appraisal below the purchase price may affect the loan amount available and the buyer's choices. Chapter Nine uses invented figures and an assumed 80% ratio to illustrate the couple's specific comparison. It is not a loan offer, a universal rule for approvals, or a prediction of the cash any reader will need.
https://yourhome.fanniemae.com/understanding-home-appraisals
Downtown Summerlin's official experience guide identifies its walkable mix of shopping and dining. The Bureau of Land Management describes Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area, its sandstone formations, and access along Charleston Boulevard and State Route 159. Meals, visits, observations, and characters in the book are fictional. Check current access information before your own visit.
https://summerlin.com/experience/
https://www.blm.gov/visit/red-rock-canyon-national-conservation-area
Back to contents ↑Use the accompanying California to Summerlin Client Workbook PDF when a chapter raises a question you want to act on. Keep it with this book. Its full concern library and topic finder remain available without interrupting the story.
What are we assuming?
What would change our decision?
What are we giving up to choose this?
Chapters One and Two: start with My personal move plan on workbook pages 5 to 7 and the service and communication pages 8 to 12.
Chapters Three and Four: use Home comparison on pages 16 to 19 and Budget on pages 13 to 15. Mark missing figures as unknown and retain their sources.
Chapters Five to Seven: use California and Summerlin coordination on pages 20 to 22, Decision checks on pages 25 to 27, and your dated decision record on page 37.
Chapters Eight to Ten: update the Move timeline on pages 23 to 24, When plans change on pages 28 to 29, and the Question log on page 36.
Chapters Eleven and Twelve: review Aftercare on pages 34 to 35, actual ownership costs on page 15, and your progress review on page 39.
The workbook concern library begins on page 43 for before choosing, page 61 for during the purchase, and page 80 for after moving. The complete book and workbook topic finder begins on page 90. A short glossary begins on page 98. Page 99 helps you adapt the story to your own household and purpose for moving. Use the original concern ID to keep your question, decision, and follow-up connected.
For a completed example, turn to workbook pages 96 and 97. Follow the temporary-housing question from the first quote through evidence, a decision, and a dated follow-up. Then use the blank question log on page 36 and decision record on page 37 for your own concern.
Bring your next question to the relevant person. The workbook gives you a place to record the answer; the responsible source establishes the fact.
Open the companion workbook in Google Drive
Open the link above to view the blank workbook. Download a personal copy before adding your information. If access is restricted, request a copy from Micah.
Back to contents ↑