For now, Brody and I were living like vagabonds, splitting our time between California and Michigan whenever we could.
While in Michigan, we stayed wherever the mood took us – sometimes at his condo, and sometimes at the crew house – minus Waverly, who'd quit the show in a huff when someone suggested that she actually "gopher" coffee early one Monday morning.
She wasn't missed.
Whenever we could, Brody and I spent an obscene number of hours at the beach house, wandering through its empty rooms and pondering what we'd do with all of the space.
It was during one such brainstorming session when Brody turned to me and said, "Hey, you wanna see the attic?"
The offer caught me off guard. Based on little things he'd said over the past few weeks, I'd assumed the attic was packed with junk and spare building materials.
Still, I gave a happy nod and let him lead me to the private stairway that led up to the long-forbidden space. When we reached the top step, I felt my eyed widen in surprise.
It wasn't packed.
It was a dream.
The whole room was painted in pink and white candy stripes. On the largest wall, in fanciful lettering was an old-fashioned sign. With a laugh, I read it out loud. "Clara's Candies." At this, I actually giggled. "Oh, my God."
With a self-satisfied smile, Brody said, "Take a closer look."
In a happy trance, I wandered toward the sign, and then burst out laughing all over again. On the lower corner, in red scripty letters was a grade. I readthisout loud too. "An A, huh?"
"Not just an A," Brody said. "An A-plus."
Istillcouldn’t stop laughing. "Who did this? I mean, I know you planned it and all, but did you design it yourself?"
"Hell no," he said. "I hired a pro."
"Who?" I asked.
"Miss LaRue."
"You're not serious?"
"The hell I’m not," he said. "This job? It was perfect for her skill set."
Yes. It was.And for some reason, it made the whole thing all the more ridiculous and wonderful.
I took another long look around. The sloped ceiling was not only fully repaired, but painted in a crisp white that showed off all the interesting lines and angles of the roofline.
And then, there was the new balcony. Where there used to be a big, old window overlooking the water, I saw a pair of classic patio doors that led out to a cozy perch for gazing out over the water.
Once again, I looked to Brody. "But wait, how did Inotknow this was going on?"
He grinned. "You were in California."
"Not all the time," I said. "And the balcony, I would've spottedthatfrom the outside."
"I know," he said. "That's why the balcony was the last thing they put in. I had a hell of a time keeping it secret."
And yet, he had.With a wistful smile, I confessed, "It's like a dream."
"Just so you know," Brody said, "you don't have to keep it this way."
"Oh, it's staying," I told him, "regardless of who owns the house." I reached for his hand. "I love it. And I love you most of all."
"That reminds me," Brody said. "I never did tell you what L.O.L. stood for."
