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Drew – Coming “Home”
All I want to do is tell Meg the great news that my siblings have decided to go along with the new proposal and that Seaside will be even better than before as a result.
I decided not to tell her over the phone because I don’t want to miss out on the beaming smile on her face when she hears the news. I understand why she loves the inn so much, and I couldn’t live with myself if I ended up destroying that love in any kind of way.
The more I start to imagine a life spent with her, the more I’m starting to realize that there might be another love in her life. I desperately hope I am that love, and that she’ll let me stick around for a little while more, no, actually for a long while more.
“I can stay at the inn and oversee the renovations,” I offer Troy, as I start repacking my suitcase the night before my flight.
“I thought you hated the sand,” he says, as he stands in my bedroom doorway.
“I think it’s starting to grow on me,” I admit.
“Is it the beach, or someone at the beach?” Troy raises his brow at me.
“Perhaps a certain someone who is going to be very happy with the news about the inn?”
“Something like that,” I nod, zipping up my suitcase.
“She must be something special. I’ve never seen you like this before about anyone,” he says.
“Things change,” I tell him. “People can change, too.”
He gives me a look that catches me off guard before asking, “Do you love her?”
I’m surprised and slightly taken aback by his bluntness. “What?”
“It’s a simple question, Drew,” Troy chuckles. “Do you love the girl?”
I’m about to deny it, to say no, that I’ve only known Meg for a couple of weeks, barely a month. There’s no way I can love her. But the minute I try to say it, nothing comes out.
This wonderful young woman brings out the best in me and makes me want to be better than the man I want to leave behind in New York. She’s hilarious, wholesome, funny, and beautiful.
“I don’t know…” I try to say. But it’s what Troy asks next that really gets me.
“Does she feel like home?”
“What do you mean?” I sit on the foot of my bed, watching him as a small grin appears on his face.
“Dad always told me that you know you love someone when no matter where you are, as long as you’re with that person, you’re home. That person is your safe place to land, your sanctuary, your place to rest when the world gets to be too much,” he explains.
“Dad said that? Our very critical, logical, stern father said that?” I question, thinking he’s pulling my leg.
“He told me that after my first real heartbreak,” he says, taking a seat next to me. “He made me realize I didn’t really love her, but that I just loved the idea of her.”
“Yes, it hurt when she didn’t want to be with me anymore. She didn’t feel like home, so I knew I didn’t really love her like that. That rule was why he proposed to mom after dating for only two weeks.”
“I still can’t believe he did that,” I chuckle, though I’d heard their love story more times than I could count. High school sweethearts who built an empire and loved each other until their final days.
It never ceased to amaze me how many people asked them what the secret to marriage was when they found out how long Mom and Dad were together. Over the years, the answers changed, but one that they kept repeating stayed with me.
Marry your best friend. You can’t screw it up if you have that.
“I miss them,” Troy admits. He’s never one to actually show real emotion, so I put my arm around his shoulders and give him a quick squeeze.
“Me too,” I nod.
“So does she?” he asks again. “Does she feel like home?”
