34. Johnny
Johnny
“This is amazing! I can’t believe you never brought me out here.” Beth stood at the edge of the beach, looking back toward the little brown houses dotting the resort.
It was the week after Labor Day, and although the past weekend had been busy, kids were back at school, and people were already turning to fall mode—even though summer officially had two more weeks on the calendar.
The breeze picked up, and Beth laughed as her hair blew over top of her head, creating a veil across her face.
“It wasn’t a done deal yet. Didn’t want to jinx it.” I turned her around, smoothing her dark hair back over her shoulders, her face still bright with a smile. A smile I didn’t want to ever stop.
“Well, it’s a done deal now.”
“Yeah, lots of work still.”
She walked up toward the cottages, taking her time as she stopped in front of each one, as if expecting them to be different, even though all twelve of them were identical. Brown wood exterior, black roofs, little porch with a swing on each.
Even though the closing was only a couple weeks ago, most of the exteriors were already cleaned up—with the help from Lane—and it looked significantly better.
As I followed Beth’s self-tour through the property, a calmness washed over me. Things were right.
Sure, there would be a ton of work over the next year to get this place going before Memorial Day, but it would all be worth it.
“What’s this? Is this part of the resort as well?” She had crept over the large hill that separated the property, walked through the large oaks, and came up on the owner’s house.
It was completely different from the other structures, and luckily, it was better cared for compared to the little cabins that dotted the properties.
It was an old colonial, painted white with aged blue shutters and lots of overgrown landscaping around it.
A wraparound porch hugged the house, and like the other porches, this had a swing on it as well.
“Yeah,” I said, following her gaze. “It’s the owner’s house. I don’t know if I told you, but I met the seller at the closing a few weeks back.”
“Oh really?” She walked up the steps and took a seat on the porch swing, pushing herself back and forth with a loud creak as she moved.
“Yeah, he and his wife lived here for decades it sounds like. Raised their kids here, ran the resort, the whole thing.”
Beth hummed, listening to me before chiming in. “Is that what you want to do? Live here? That the plan?”
We hadn’t talked much about the specifics of what our relationship would look like. I knew that I wanted to be with her, and she wanted to be with me, but we didn’t get much further than that.
Last week, she’d moved back in with Megan—temporarily, for now—as she figured out if she wanted to buy another house or what her plan was. Mary asked her to come back quickly to help with the season close, so I know she hadn’t given much thought about where she planned to live.
“Maybe. Depends.” I shrugged.
“On what?”
“You, of course.”
Beth blushed from her ears down to her chest, and her smile matched.
“I know we just got back together. I don’t want to assume anything. I know you’re it for me though. I could stay living in the house I’m in, we could find a new place eventually, or we could… we could move here.”
At that, Beth stood up from the swing and crossed the porch to where I stood by the railing, leaning against it, and her arms wrapped around me. I returned the action and leaned in, running my nose along her ear, breathing her in. We stood there for a few minutes, enjoying what could be.
She craned her neck back to look at me, and her lips tipped up at the end. “I’m not sure what the plan looks like, but let’s just say I’m up for whatever we figure out is right for us.”
And that was good enough for me too.
“Sounds absolutely perfect.”