I accepted their lot with my whole little heart.
I sit on the stool and stare at my phone, feeling a peace that I haven’t felt in years. It’s like a piece of me that I lost somewhere down the line has been snapped back into place. The little hole in the bottom of my heart that slowly drained my confidence and let fear seep inside me closes.
“At least she knows where to go when she’s hurt.”
A slow smile splits my cheeks as I recall my mom’s words.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “You go home.”
A warmth fills my chest as I consider what this means. I haven’t felt at home anywhere since the day Lolly and Pop packed Markie and me each with a suitcase, put us into their Buick, and drove us to their house. Until now. But this time, home isn’t a place. It’s a person. It’s the great, the only love of my life.
Tears splash against my cheeks as I realize that I knew what I needed to do all along. I needed to let him love me.
Hartley is who I call when something great happens. I reach for him as soon as my eyes open each day, and he’s the last thing I see before I fall asleep at night. He’s where I go when I screw up and buy a piglet. And he’s my safe place when I’m scared.
My entire world shifts as things become devastatingly clear.
He’s home.
He’s what my parents would want for me. There’s no doubt about it. In a way, it feels like that’s what Mom was saying to me in that video. A little advice from beyond.
I’ve known that I love him for a while, but not like this. Not like I feel today. Not so encompassing that it steals my breath. He’s my past and present, and I want to be his future. Babies and baseball games. Wrinkles and gray hair. Porch swings and matching mugs and late-night fights with makeup sex.
But as I glance down at the box full of my parents’ things—all I have left of them—another realization hits me: I could lose him, too.
I pick up a few more pictures of my parents, trying not to let my tears hit them. Losing them was the worst moment of my life, and it’s colored every day since. I don’t know that I’d survive another loss again. And it’s never been worth the risk of getting close to someone, just in case.
But I’m already in love with Hartley. The man has my heart and soul. And for the first time in my life, my first instinct isn’t to run. It’s to stay.To really stay.
I grab my phone and find his name.
Me: Are you home?
Hartley: Yup. I just put a pizza in the oven and am going to jump in the shower. Didn’t know when you were coming home, so figured it’d be nice to have dinner waiting for you instead of having to go to town to pick it up.
What a good man.
Me: Perfect. I’ll be home soon. Xo
Hartley: Can’t wait.
I put everything back in the boxes and turn off the lights. My feet hit the steps of the ladder, tapping their way down to the floor.
“Hey, honey,” Lolly says, coming around the corner with a dishrag in her hand. “Did you find the pictures?”
Instead of answering her, I pull her into a tight hug.
“Well …” She laughs softly, hugging me back. “I didn’t expect this.”
My cheeks are wet again as I pull back. I smile at her. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t know. Everything. For taking care of Markie and me. For loving me when it probably wasn’t easy. For giving me room when I asked for it, and then doing what was best for me, even if I didn’t know it yet.”
Her eyes narrow. “What are you talking about, sweetheart?”
My chest swells with love for my mischief-making grandmother.
