Page 7 of Loving You

And the best part about my situation is that my brother and his wife have two of them.

Twins.

Ha.

“I’m so happy to have you home for the summer, dear,” Grandma Betty whispers as she pats my knee.

We are sitting in my brother's living room with no music, no TV, and all phones on silent. Natalie, my sister-in-law, just went up to get some sleep, and my brother Tobias is quietly trying to clean so that Natalie doesn’t think about the dishes or any other mess when she wakes up.

If you ask me, he needs sleep, too, but that man would stay awake for days if it meant he could do something, anything, for his wife.

They are increasingly disgustingly in love each day, and I envy every single moment of it.

“Me too,” I whisper back and then lean into my grandmother.

I flew in from London a few days ago, and even though I love returning to Lovers over the summer, I’m not sure I can stay here much longer. In this house, to be more specific.

Yes, I could suck it up for the babies, but for three days, I’ve asked to help make things easier for them, but Natalie and Tobias keep telling me no thanks. At this point, I feel like I’m just in the way. And for someone who was already starting to feel a little like she doesn’t really have a purpose in life anymore, that feeling of not being needed sucks.

I could stay with Grandma Betty. At least there I know I wouldn’t be in the way, and she would gladly let me do simple housework, but she and Mike just bought a little one-bedroom house together, and their teenage behavior tells me that sleeping on their couch for the next two months is not even an option.

Again, I’m happy for them, but no thank you.

“Are you coming over for dinner tonight?” she asks.

“Yes. I will be there.”

She hugs me tighter.

“I love it when you are home.”

Home.

She speaks the word so freely, but it feels foreign to me.

I know what it means, but I can’t say that I agree with her.

Lovers is her home. It’s been home for Tobias and Natalie for more than a year now, but I don’t have a home. I travel so much that I don’t see the point in setting roots down anywhere. I’m very aware that owning a house and calling a place home isn’t exactly the same thing, but if I owned a house, I wouldn’t be there enough to take care of it, and as far as the place I feel most at home … I’m not sure where that is.

I’m just … I’m looking for something, but I have no idea what it is.

I hug Grandma Betty and then follow her to the kitchen. She hugs Tobias and quietly slips out the back door.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask my brother.

He shakes his head. “No. I just need to finish the dishes, and then I’m going to walk into town to get Natalie some of those lemon bars she loves from B’s Bakery and maybe even a coffee. One of those white mocha drinks, I think.”

“I’ll do it,” I say with more eagerness than I expected.

“No, I can?—”

“I’ll do it.” I glare at him. “It’s just a treat and coffee. I won’t mess it up, Tobias.”

He takes a breath and nods.

I swear, even though I’m a grown woman, my brother looks at me as if I’m the six-year-old little girl carrying his full glass of milk to the kitchen table and then spilling all over his grilled cheese.

“Thank you.”

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