In the meantime, the house remained vacant – not because we didn't want to move in, but because until we agreed on whose house it actually was, it seemed terribly premature to start filling it with our things.
And besides, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was hoping that a choice wouldn't have to be made at all – that the house could be ours in the most permanent of ways.
Regardless, I was having the time of my life. After my return to Bayside, Brody made another confession. During the past few months, he'd been avoiding travel so we could spend more time together.
I was insanely flattered, but horrified to learn that this had caused a delay with the other houses, including the place in California. In happier news, we were catching up just fine, and this time, we were doing it together.
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 read this out loud too. "An A, huh?"
"Not just an A," Brody said. "An A-plus."
I still couldn’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 I not know this was going on?"
He grinned. "You were in California."
"Not all the time," I said. "And the balcony, I would've spotted that from 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."
On his phone? Funny, I'd totally forgotten about that. But now I was beyond curious. "So, what did it stand for?"
When he answered, his voice was nearly a caress. "Love of my life."
As he said it, something squeezed at my heart. "You're kidding."
"Nope."
"But at the time, you didn't even know you loved me."
"I knew," he said. "I just wasn't ready to face it. That's all."
I smiled up at him. "You're the love of my life, too, you know."
He grinned. "I know. And now, we're gonna settle who owns the house." With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.
My breath caught. "Oh?'
With a smile, he got down on one knee and said, "Arden?"
My eyes were already misty. "Yeah?"
"I love you. You fill my life with everything I never knew was missing. I want to build a home, a life, a family. I want everything that you and I never had, and I want it with each other."
By now, I was openly crying, with happy tears sliding down my face.
And then, he opened the box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring I'd ever seen. With love in his eyes, he said, "Will you marry me?"
I didn't even have to think about it. It was the thing I'd been hoping for, and I told him so, not just then, but many times over the next few weeks as we made happy plans for the future.
Turns out, that future included a more permanent presence on the Blast Brothers show, where I became a regular part of the cast, not just for the house in California, but for all of them.
It really was crazy, especially knowing that in a few short months, we – along with millions of other people – would be watching not just the transformation of the beach house, but also our
