Rafael Zenke

Some houses have been lived in. This one has been looked after. One family built 10308 Calle De Flores and never left it, and you can read that in the order they spent their money. Roof: 2022. Variable-capacity Lennox HVAC: 2023. Ductwork: 2025. Hybrid water heater: 2021. That is the entire list of things a buyer dreads inheriting from a home of this vintage, and every one of them is already done, already paid for, already behind you. What is left to spend money on here is furniture. The kitchen is where the rest of it went, and it is a kitchen worth cooking in: soft gray shaker cabinetry stacked all the way to the ceiling, engineered quartz counters carried straight up the wall as a full-height slab backsplash, undermount sink with a gooseneck pull-down faucet, stainless double-oven range. It opens straight into the vaulted family room and a bright breakfast nook, so whoever is cooking is never banished to another room. Off the foyer, a formal dining room with wainscoting and a chandelier waits for the nights that call for it, and a formal living room sits under an arched window that fills with morning light. The floor plan is the real luxury. A true three-way split, all on one level, not a single step anywhere in the house. The primary suite takes an entire wing to itself — nearly twenty-four feet deep, with a walk-in closet fitted out with shelving, dual vanities, a garden tub set into a tiled deck, a separate shower and a private water closet behind its own door. The two secondary bedrooms and a full bath sit on the far side of the house, a genuine distance from the primary, and one of them carries a built-in wall bed with cabinetry — a guest room and a study at the same time, without either one apologizing for the other. Then there is a dedicated office off the foyer, built-in desk and cabinetry already in place, arched window looking over the front lawn. Volume ceilings, arched glass and tile run through all of it. No carpet anywhere. Save the back of the house for last, because that is the room that sells it. A glass sun room stretches nearly the full width of the home — three walls of windows, two ceiling fans, its own door out to the yard, French doors back into the family room. It is a room with no assigned purpose, which is exactly why it ends up hosting every morning coffee, every card game and every holiday. Beyond the glass, the lawn runs deep and rises to mature oaks and a crape myrtle in bloom, on a lot of better than a quarter acre with paved walkways, planted beds and irrigation already in the ground. The garage tells you who lived here: oversized, epoxy floor, floor-to-ceiling built-in cabinetry, a workbench, overhead storage racks and an EV charging outlet. Electric hurricane shutters. An interior laundry room, not a hallway closet. All of this sits in the Vistas, one of those established Clermont neighborhoods of wide streets, big lots and grown-in trees that the newer subdivisions spend thirty years trying to become — and the HOA is four hundred fifty dollars a YEAR, not a month. Minutes to downtown Clermont, the South Lake Trail, Florida's Turnpike and US-27. Twenty-five years of one family's care, and it shows in every room. Now it is ready for the next one.