We sell houses. We also just live here.

We didn't plan on doing this together. It just turned out we're better as a pair.

Chelsea came to real estate from nursing. She did the unglamorous apprenticeship most people skip — admin on a team, then transaction coordinating, then agent on a nationwide team — which means there is no part of a file she hasn't touched. Jeff came at it from the other direction — nearly thirteen years in the Army first, then build things, sell things, chase the interesting problem. Somewhere in the middle the two of us ended up running a team of agent partners under Southern State Realty Partners at eXp Realty.

Nearly a decade in, most of what we do is unremarkable and that's the point. Price it honestly. Prep it properly. Market it like it matters. Answer the phone. Handle the thing before it becomes the problem. We've sold bungalows in Homewood, lake property in Alabaster, new construction in Ross Bridge, and 79 acres to an out-of-state buyer who found it because we flew a drone over it.

Nearly thirteen years in the Army

Jeff served almost thirteen years before he ever handed anybody a set of keys. He doesn't lead with it, but you'll feel it in how a deal gets run: show up early, know the plan, brief the plan, and never leave somebody wondering what happens next. A closing is thirty days of moving parts and other people's deadlines. Having someone on your side who is genuinely comfortable in that is worth more than it sounds.

It also means military moves aren't abstract to us. If you're relocating in or out of the metro on somebody else's timeline, buying with a VA loan, or trying to choose a house from four states away, that's a conversation we've had from both sides of it.

Five houses, one rental, and a cabin

We've owned five homes of our own, held one as a rental, and recently closed on a cabin in the mountains as an investment — a luxury stay-and-play we now rent to golfers. That's not a brag, it's a disclosure: we have already made most of the mistakes we're trying to keep you from making. We know what a rate lock feels like when it's your own money, what an inspection report does to your stomach, and what it costs to move a family in July.

Why a husband-and-wife team is actually different

Two agents on one deal usually means one agent and one voicemail. That's not how this works. We're in the same house at the end of the day, which means your file gets discussed at dinner whether you like it or not. One of us is always reachable. Nothing gets quietly handed off to someone you've never met.

It also means you get two very different brains. Chelsea reads contracts and catches the thing on page nine. Jeff reads rooms and knows what a house will feel like to a buyer walking in cold. Both of those change outcomes.

What we actually care about

Being useful. We'd rather be the people you text a random question to than the people who show up once a year with a calendar magnet. We know the inspectors, the lenders, the roofer who actually shows up, the guy who can do the retaining wall. If it touches a house in this metro, we probably know who to call — and we'll tell you even when there's nothing in it for us.

Outside of work: three gorgeous, crazy, rambunctious daughters. Chelsea teaches Pure Barre on the side, because apparently a full-time business and three kids left a gap in the schedule. Jeff is happiest building something and then selling it.

We're Riverchase people. A good Saturday here is golf, then tennis, then all five of us crammed into the golf cart riding the neighborhood with no particular destination. Our faith in Christ anchors the whole operation — it's the reason we'd rather tell you the truth than tell you what closes the deal. And mountains whenever we can get to them, which is a big part of how we ended up with a cabin on Lookout Mountain.