Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
“ She had been forced into prudence in her youth, she learned romance as she grew older: the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning. ”
~ Jane Austen, Persuasion
N o more running! Certainty pinged through Elle’s veins as Clayton parked at Letchworth State Park. She asked if they could skip the run and do something different. It wasn’t her plan, but as she surveyed the forest’s edge at the end of the parking lot, she knew she wanted to change their morning routine. She wanted to change how she handled moments like what happened with Pete. The urge was still there to hold it in, letting the thoughts meander until they were packed away in keyless lock boxes but dulled with her resolve.
It felt right to do it here. Letchworth was one of her favorite places as a kid. She had memories from this place for each changing season. It was the perfect place to make a change. To do something different.
Perhaps her favorite spots in the park were the sets of three waterfalls along the Genesee River that flowed through the center of the park. A set of one hundred weathered stone steps led up a steep climb along the falls.
Clayton laced their fingers together as they took the first step. They were the only ones in the pre-dawn park. Clayton’s gaze flipped between the well-traveled steps watching for ruts and debris that dotted the path and at Elle, as she shared what happened with Pete the night before. She confessed her fear of changing her and her mom in Pete’s eyes if she told him the real reason she stayed away so long. She’d missed so much by staying away from Perry.
“This is part of your story. It’s not your entire story. You decide which chapters and paragraphs to share. No matter what you decide, you are still my favorite book.” His warm, earnest eyes held her gaze as he lowered his head to kiss her.
“Thank you.” She smiled, placing her forehead against his, breathing in his tantalizing scent.
“Keep going?” He gestured to the No Trespassing sign stapled to the tree.
They had reached the top of the stairs, but there was so much further to go. She knew his question wasn’t just about their walk.
“Absolutely.” Taking his hand in hers again, they continued.
There had always been No Trespassing signs on so many doors within her heart. Things she wouldn’t say, wouldn’t let herself feel, or let others feel for her. It was time to knock those signs down and let people in and herself out.
Clayton lifted her up onto the plateau at the top. They walked along the old wooden and steel tracks toward the bridge. Rust-covered iron rails lined each side, providing a thin protective line between tracks and the river one-hundred feet below.
Elle exhaled with admiration, as she reached the center of the bridge, stepping close to the iron rails and looking out at the lush trees sprinkled along both sides of the gorge.“This is amazing.”
“I’ll never get tired of this view,” Clayton said, his arms wrapped around her waist, resting his chin on the top of her head.
Eyes closed, she melted into his embrace. “When’s the last time you were here?”
“I come up here every June tenth… Evan’s birthday. We used to come to the park a lot as kids and when we got older, we’d hike the trails. He died two months shy of his twenty-fifth birthday. That first year, we didn’t know whether to celebrate him or not. It was tough for us all. Mom stayed in bed all day, crying. Dad just stayed in his office. Nat bought a cake and took it to Evan’s grave. I came here. Being in this spot I felt like I was with him.”
“Do you have a favorite memory of him?”
“So many memories. Evan could walk into a room of strangers and within five minutes be their new best friend. I’m typically the guy hanging in the corner, waiting for a stranger to approach me or for someone I know to walk into the room,” he said self-deprecatingly.
Elle twisted to face him, wrapping her arms around his nape, their gazes mingling. “Not everyone is an Evan, but more importantly, not everyone is a Clayton.”She lifted on her toes, nuzzling her nose against his.
A goofy grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re a little cheesy,” he teased, pulling her up into his arms.
Elle squeaked, her long legs wrapping around his hips. “Like Muenster,” she declared, as Clayton clutched her behind, holding her tight. “Are you grabbing my butt?”
“Just want to make sure you’re secure.”
“Clearly, butt grabbing is only a safety measure.”
“Clearly,” he murmured, his mouth inches from hers.
Those damn butterflies somersaulted as he captured her mouth in his. It was sweet and slow. As they broke their kiss, Elle’s fingers traced where her lips had been. This kiss was playful yet grateful. Each kiss with him felt like the first time, because each one was different.
“Thank you for listening and sharing Evan with me.”
He placed her back on her feet, keeping her pressed to his warm chest.
“Thank you for everything.” she sighed with gratitude.
“Even the butt grabbing?” He grinned.
“Especially that.” Elle said, her tone saucy.
With a hip check, she sauntered off the bridge, her hips swaying a little more than usual. Reaching the end of the bridge, she peeked over her shoulder and shot him a flirty wink. Clayton stood with both laughter and heat in those gray eyes that followed each movement of her body.
The rest of the day was standard workfare, minus all the moments she spent thinking of Clayton. Logic cautioned her that this was not a sound course of action. They lived on opposite sides of the country. His life was here, and hers there.
But no man had ever unsettled her in such a delicious way, causing her to feel both upside-down and right where she should be. She wasn’t acting like her normal businesslike self, but she never felt more like herself than when she was with Clayton.
Blowing out a hot breath, Elle pushed her laptop away, she picked up her phone and sent a message to the group text, asking her friends if they were up for a lunch time video chat.
“Elle’s Bells!” Willa cheered, her caramel-colored hair bouncing as her outstretched arms mimicked a clenching hug.
“Elle. I just told my assistant to push my next meeting, so you’ve got me for a full…” Viet looked down at his watch. “…twenty-five minutes.”
“Oh Viet, you didn’t need to do that.” Elle sighed.
“First, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. Well, except visit my husband’s racist grandmother.” Viet wrinkled his nose.
Elle snickered.
“Anyways, Elle’s Bells you seldom…wait, you never want to process things, so I’m shocked we’re here, in the best way of course!” Willa’s warm smile filled Elle’s screen.
“So, how are you?” Viet asked, his dark eyes warm and comforting like a perfect cup of tea.
Elle sat in quiet hesitation, wondering if she should really answer that question and if so, what she would say.“I am a smoothie of feelings.”
“What are some of the ingredients in that smoothie?” Willa asked.
“Angry. Disappointed. Guilty…alive…happy.”
“Let’s unpack those,” Willa said, her voice less friend-like and more Dr. Willa Andrews. Perhaps taking this call from her office made it easier for Willa to slip into psychologist mode instead of remaining her normal bubbly self.
Elle puffed out her cheeks. “Angry and disappointed in my mom and myself. I saw her at the wedding in the bathroom. We didn’t engage. At all.”
“Oh, Elle. I’m so sorry,” Viet consoled.
“It’s fine.”
“You mentioned anger and disappointment with her and yourself.” Willa’s tone was curious.
“I think deep down I wanted her to apologize. When she didn’t, I was disappointed in myself for having that hope. That hope that she missed me as much as…”Elle stopped when her voice quivered. “I was angry with her for taking that hope away, again.She is who she is. I just need to remind myself of that and let go of that delusion.”
“It’s not delusional to want your mom in your life. It’s normal,” Willa soothed.
“Maybe for you or Viet.”
A twinge of shame reared up. Snapping at Willa wasn’t helpful. Both Viet and Willa had wonderful mothers whom they were close to. Elle had witnessed the loveliness of Willa’s relationship with her mom, Gloria, and Viet’s with his mom, Anh.
“Elle…”Willa stopped when Viet’s shook his head.
Elle looked at Willa’s remorseful face.
“Sorry, Wills,”Elle apologized. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You’re just trying to help.”
“No need to apologize. You weren’t snapping at me, but at her. My Elle’s Bells deserves to have what we have. I wish we could give that to you.”
“Grieving my relationship with my mom is like being on a hamster wheel. It’s never-ending and pointless. But I don’t want it to stop me from appreciating other relationships. I stayed away too long, and Pete thought it might be a little bit about him. I think keeping her at a distance kept a lot of people away as well. I just… I don’t seem know how to completely open my doors.” Elle’s voice cracked.
Willa made a small cooing noise. “You do it one door at a time, one lock at a time.”
“Remember doors are meant to both open and close. We choose who we open them for and who gets them slammed in their face,” Viet said, causing Elle to grin.
“I love you, both.”
“We love you.” They grinned in unison.
“So, can we talk about the banana in that smoothie?” Willa asked, a glint of naughtiness in her big brown eyes. Dr. Andrews had tapped out for girlfriend Willa to come out to play.
“By banana, we mean hot farmer’s dick.” Viet winked.
“Yes, please. Has he plowed your field yet?”
“Baled your hay?” Viet added.
“Herded your cows?”
“Shucked your corn?”
“Stop!” Elle laughed, throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t even think those are actual euphemisms!”
“You’ve got to give us something. My imagination has been in overdrive since you sent that pic.” Willa begged.
“I don’t think I want to know what you are imagining Clayton and me doing.”
“It involves a tractor...” Willa fanned herself with a manila folder.
“I will give you this; He is an excellent kisser, and we have a date tonight.” Elle’s head jolted backward at Viet and Willa’s joint hoots and whistles.