SUPPLIED PHOTO

Robyn Doolittle brought her best friend, Vanessa Milne, along for her seal of approval when checkingout a potential unit, while her realtor Stephanie Nause locks up. That night, Doolittle made an offe

New chance after the one that got away

I mourned the-home-that-was-almost-mine for three weeks.

The lost townhouse was in the same neighbourhood as my current place, which didn't help the grieving process. I'd mindlessly wander over, morning Tim Hortons in one hand, my dog's leash in the other, then nonchalantly – perhaps creepily – gaze through the front window.

Yes, it was small, and the carpet sucked, and the appliances were old, but it was as close to perfect as I was going to find on my budget. A two-bedroom, non-highrise condo, in my price range ($250,000-$270,000) and right downtown.

You think about so many things before making an offer: Does it fit my needs – size, pets, parking, location? Can I afford it? Do I see myself here in five years? 10?

You mull, rather obsess, over these questions and then finally come to a resolution. For me, it was: Yes. I want my life to happen here. And then wham! Someone else snatches that life away.

It was heartbreaking.

"Robyn," my realtor Stephanie Nause said, "don't worry. You can fall in love with more than one property."

I'd spend hours trawling through MLS.ca and Stephanie continued to send me listings, but nothing seemed right.

Many were over my budget, or the maintenance was too high. Or there wasn't laundry. Most were located out of my desired area: Ryerson University and Cabbagetown.

Dejected, I extend my search to large one-bedrooms, which I could convert into a two-bedroom with a sliding door if needed.

My boyfriend is great, but forever is not yet in the cards. It was important, for both of us, to know that should we break up I would be able to make my mortgage payments and still eat. I had to have the option of getting a roommate.

I saw a few places. They had lovely finishes and all that great stuff you hear about on HGTV – nice tile, pedestal sinks, granite countertops – but when it came down to it, I realized the idea of significant renovations was too daunting.

I was about ready to call off the hunt. I would just have to wait for another unit in that townhouse complex to come on the market.

Then on Feb. 12, one month after my failed multiple offer, a miracle arrived in my inbox.

A brand new, two-bedroom, 700 square-foot unit, with granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and parking, had just come on the market. It was pet-friendly, bordering the north end of Cabbagetown at 225 Wellesley St. E. and best of all, it was listed at $258,900. The Star of Downtown, cheesy name, but given my place of employment, it seemed fitting.

There were downsides. Namely it was a highrise condo.

"I don't know why you hate them so much anyway," said my boyfriend, Oleh.

Hmmm. Why do I despise them so? They're definitely a space saver and apparently, the only way a first-time buyer can get into the market. But they're also sterile and ugly and they block the sun and destroy park space. Or is that just what renting hipsters say?

"You know," I replied. "I think I just really hate the idea of having to leave early for work to factor in elevator-wait time."

"A-ha," said Stephanie triumphantly. "This unit's on the second floor."

Fate?

I wanted to see the place, but the building was still being built. The unit was supposed to be ready for occupancy the next week.

Huh? How can the unit be ready if the building isn't?

Here come the other downsides, as Stephanie explained:

Builders finish units first to get buyers inside, then they can charge an occupancy fee, which is quasi-rent. Once the rest of the building is finished, the complex can be registered. Once this happens the unit will transfer into my name. I would be buying the investment in the building. When the building registers, there'll be a host of closing costs. No one knows exactly how much, but it could be as high as $7,000, that's in addition to lawyer fees and land transfer tax – although this was a new building, typically exempt, and I'm a first-time buyer, also typically exempt, so that part was still a bit murky.

"All considered," Stephanie said, "this was a really good deal and a great investment."

We wanted to avoid another multiple offer situation, so we moved fast. While Stephanie began preparing the complicated offer, my friend Vanessa Milne and I headed to the construction site. The place was abuzz with realtors, construction workers and buyers checking in on their units. Vanessa and I headed to mine – or what I hoped would soon be mine. They were doing some work on it and we poked our heads in. It was perfect.

We made an offer that night at $254,900.

"I'll argue that since we don't know what the closing costs will be, this is fair," Stephanie said.

Was there any chance I'd get this below asking?

The seller countered at $256,900 a few hours later.

I'd just bought my first home.

Next week: It wasn't that easy after all. Assignment agreements, legal confusion and a contract that just won't work.