Page 57 of When Forever Stays

Which is exactly what happens. I spend the next few hours getting completely destroyed at pool by a firefighter and a billionaire. As we play, we chat and I talk about my time with Dr. and Mrs. Woodhouse.

“So you need a new place to stay?” West asks as he sinks the eight ball for the third time in a row, sealing his own win.

“I mean, I’d like to have my own place again,” I answer honestly without trying to show my desperation. The Woodhouses have been amazing, and I’m grateful for all they’ve done for me. But as an adult man, I’d like to have my privacy. Unfortunately for me, unoccupied houses and apartments are hard to come by on Amber Island.

“I can set you up in a bungalow,” West says, then takes a swig of his root beer.

Shaking my head, I say, “You really don’t have to do that. I have the funds to get another place?—”

“It will be for the interim. Not permanent. That way, you don’t need to keep staying with the Woodhouses while you’re looking for a new place.”

It’s strange to feel sad about leaving a man and woman I’ve only been living with for a few weeks. Nancy has become like a second mom to me, so leaving there will be bittersweet. But I am ready to have my own place again.

“You really don’t have to do that. It’d be way more than I deserve,” I say.

“Oh, I’m aware,” West responds. His expression is unreadable.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I left you high and dry.” I scratch the back of my neck.

West is quiet for a beat, studying me. “You abandoned us so you could take care of your kid.” West extends his hand, and I shake it. He pulls it back and chalks his cue. “I wish you would have told me that at the time, but I can’t hold that against you. What you did was selfless.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Thanks, man.” I pick up my bottle and lift it for a cheers. Crew and West both clink their bottles against mine.

“Water under the bridge,” West says. “So how about that bungalow?”

“If you really don’t mind, I’d appreciate that,” I find myself agreeing as I re-rack the balls.

West shrugs. “It’s been sitting around empty for a while. It’d be free maintenance for me.” He quirks a smile before breaking the balls and sinking two stripes.

TWENTY TWO

RHETT

I look around, taking in my bedroom at the Woodhouse home one last time. It’s simple but cozy. Soft yellow walls match the yellow and blue quilt covering the double bed. The house always smells of comfort food, something I know I’ll miss at my own place.

Mrs. Woodhouse stands at the door looking at me sadly. “I meant it when I said you were welcome here for as long as you need,” she says as she clutches my final unpacked shirt against her chest. She insisted on helping me pack my very few belongings despite everything fitting in a single suitcase and my guitar case. The tears that slide down her wrinkled cheeks crack open the piece of me this woman’s selfless love has taken hold of.

“Please don’t cry. I’ll still be on the island, just not right down the hall.”

“I know,” she says with a sniffle. “It’s been a true pleasure to have you here.” She gives me a sad smile. “You’re the son of my heart. The son I always wanted but God in His infinite wisdom decided not to give me.”

She would have made an incredible mother, but God’s plans aren’t always our plans.

“That’s a very humbling thought.” It’s hard not to get choked up. “I will never be able to pay you guys back for all you did for me.” Nancy as well as Dr. Woodhouse, have been the landing place I needed during these struggles. There’s not a doubt in my mind this was also God working for my good. My mom may no longer be on this earth, but God gave me Nancy to help me navigate through these difficult and unexpected times.

Nancy gently smacks my shoulder. “We don’t want paid back. We want you to be happy…to find God’s call for your life and the wife He’s handpicked for you.”

“Well, you’re not getting rid of me. I’ll be over here for dinner as frequently as you’ll have me.”

She visibly relaxes and hands over my last shirt. This time, her smile isn’t sad. “That’s good to hear. It makes letting you leave just a tiny bit easier.”

When I arrive at my new home, Dana, West, Olivia, and Rosa are all standing on the small covered porch. I walked past this bungalow a hundred times when I worked here, but knowing it’s my new home—at least temporarily—makes me look at it in a whole new light.

Rosa sits on one of the two rocking chairs, giving me a warm smile. Olivia sits in the other rocker, her husband—and my old boss—West stands behind her with his hand on her shoulder.

“Welcome home!” Rosa says, standing and greeting me with a hug.

“Thanks,” I mumble into her hair.

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