Most of us suspect there is a lot of stuff going on behind the scenes in lending which is not in our favor. This story agrees with that observation.
“Let me run this by an underwriter.”
Innocuous on the surface, this statement was met with obvious concern on Kamilla’s part. Her face blanched visibly as if the blood suddenly drained. Ted turned to her and looked straight into her eyes. He put his hands on top of her fists clenched in her lap and tried to transfer to his wife the mortgage man’s reassurance and positive outlook.
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“Oh, don’t worry. It’ll be fine,” the loan officer said as he stood and made a swinging-at-a-fly motion with one hand, uttered a hissing noise that sounded like “pshaw” which was meant to lighten the mood and convey a generally avuncular warmth and body language so personable he was instantly trusted to succeed in this worthy task. “Don’t worry,” he winked. “I’m on your side. I am.”
As he walked away, their apprehensive eyes followed.
To change the subject, Ted said, “Get a load of that suit. That’s an expensive Italian job. I was pricing them just the other day, hon. That’s way out of my league.”
Kamilla watched the mortgage man cross the room with their application and personal information in hand. He stood for a moment beside a desk where a clerk looked up quizzically as the folder was flopped down and opened in front of him. She held her breath as together they perused the documents. Kamilla’s fingers tightened around Ted’s.
Success was written on the loan officer’s face as he returned. “Told you it would fly. He signed off on it with one small proviso. It will cost another quarter point, that’s all
