Chapter 46Gage

I

can’t believe it. I blink my eyes and check again.

Nope. Still there in black and white.

I click the link and wait for the page to load, fully expecting some pop-up screen to swing out from the left and tell me I’ve been punked. The screen fills with 34 beautiful color photos from a variety of angles and an MLS listing with the header—DON’T MISS OUT ON THIS SEASIDE STUNNER!

The Edisto dream house. My house.

Wait… Our house—for sale.

Reasonably Priced and Ready to Move!

I flip through the pictures and land on number twenty-seven, a wide-angle view of the front porch.

She said it needed a swing. A place she can sit and look out over the marina. The way she always likes to sit in that swing at her Mama and Daddy’s house, running her toes along the wooden floorboards.

What matters most is she said she’d live here with me one day. And we’d be together. Always.

How easy it was to imagine a life there together. How faraway it seemed. But now, it’s as if things are falling into place. The great cosmos telling me that “One Day” is here. Waiting for me.

Waiting for us.

I slide my cell phone from my pocket and punch in the digits. It rings twice before his gruff voice says, “There’s my long-lost soldier grandson! How’s the Army treatin’ you these days?”

“I’m good, Grandpa. I miss you, but I’m calling because I need your help with something.”

“Anything. What is it?”

“I know how I want to invest part of my trust fund, but I’ll need someone who can get everything squared away. Someone I trust because this is important.” I take a deep breath and lay it on the line. “Grandpa, I want to buy a house.”

Buying a house is a total chore. Between the legal paperwork, the home inspections, and the insurance quotes, getting everything done while away would’ve been impossible if not for Grandpa. He and Nana equated buying a house with settling down. And on a barrier island only 30 minutes from them? They were only too eager to smooth the process in my absence.

On my last full day of AIT, the mood in the barracks is light. Rodriguez and Porter have already planned a road trip to Charleston and haven’t stopped talking about it. My duffel bag is once again packed and ready, and my uniform hangs on the hook near my bed, ready for tomorrow’s graduation ceremony.

My phone buzzes against the steel shelf with a metallic echo as it dances in a circle. I grab it and thumb across the screen. A notification blinks in a thin blue block. A picture message from Grandpa Harrington.

I tap the icon and a picture loads—Grandpa’s hand, holding a ring of silver keys. In the background my house sits on its seaside plot, and on the porch is her swing. The one I ordered online a couple weeks ago and Grandpa had installed.

Underneath the picture, the caption says—She’s all yours! Welcome home!

Home.

Piece by piece, the entire picture has fallen back together.

And tomorrow, my plane will land in Charleston, I’ll pick up my Scout and house keys, and then I’ll go home.

The one place I’ll always belong.