Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
“ It’s such a happiness when good people get together .”
~Jane Austen, Emma
A s the plane touched down at the Buffalo-Niagara Airport, Elle’s phone pinged with an incoming message from Braedon, who was just checking in, despite it being only six a.m., in California.
Beside her, Clayton was also checking his phone as they taxied to the gate, his free hand casually caressing her arm. Earlier that morning as they lay in bed, their naked limbs tangled, he felt like hers.The question remained, was she his?She wasn’t questioning him wanting to be with her. That was clear, but that was the here and now.Belonging to one another was something entirely different, it spoke of a tomorrow.All the tomorrows, not just the todays.
Long distance worked, but only if someone was willing to leave their life.Elle couldn’t imagine uprooting Clayton, taking him from his corner of the world to inhabit hers.Clayton didn’t just live in Perry; he was its heartbeat.She’d never ask him to give that up or take him away from everyone who depended on him. He may be hers, but not hers to take.
Elle slipped her phone into the pocket of her denim jacket as Clayton stepped into the aisle to pull down their luggage.Since she wasn’t working, she dressed more casually for the flight, wearing a pair of skinny black capris, a purple halter, denim jacket, and black flip flops.Clayton was in clinic dress, wearing a pair of tan slacks and a blue button up, his sleeves rolled up. Tease.
The plan was to drive to the farmhouse and drop Elle and their luggage off before he went to the clinic.She volunteered to unpack, toss the laundry in, and pick up Fitz at Clayton’s parents’ house.
The Owens Family Clinic was open six days a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays they had extended lunch breaks, but stayed open until seven p.m.It allowed the staff time to run errands and decompress on the longer days. It also gave Dr. Owens time to visit any patients admitted to the county hospital in Warsaw or the area nursing homes.
Clayton headed to the clinic soon after they arrived back at the farmhouse. Elle unpacked and tossed their dirty clothes into the wash.While putting things away, she looked at the picture she had bought him the previous week.She still hadn’t given it to him.Running her fingers over the starfish bangle he gave her in Boston, she wondered when the right time would be to give it to him. A just because gift was always nice, but this felt more special.The picture of the train trellis over the gorge signified something important for each of them.It needed an important occasion to be given. When the moment arrived, she’d know.
She walked up the path to the Owens’ yellow Victorian, a box of cookies from the Farmer’s Wife in her hand.Climbing the steps, a tall shadow appeared through the leaf-engraved window of the front door.Elle braced herself.Likely it would be a brief interaction, like a prisoner exchange between feuding nations.
Cookies for my dog. Wait …Clayton’s dog. Double Wait… We’re Fitz’s.
The door opened, revealing Dr. Owens in a yellow short-sleeve shirt with an evergreen bow tie. They had an awkward stare-down until Elle broke the standoff.
“I brought cookies.” She held up the pink pastry box.
“Thank you. Come in,”he said, stepping aside to let her enter. “Heidi had to run an errand, so I volunteered to hang with Fitz until you arrived.”It felt strange to hear the bow tie-wearing Dr. Owens use the phrase “hang with.”
“Oh.” Elle looked around for Fitz.
“He’s napping on the couch in the TV room. We were watching a program.” The corners of his mouth lifted into almost a bashful grin.
“A program?” She arched a brow at Dr. Owens’ flip flop between new and old school vernacular.
“Yes.” He chuckled. “ Grey’s Anatomy . It’s a guilty pleasure of mine. Heidi got me into it a few years ago.”
“It’s a good show. My best friend Viet and I have watch parties.”To think Dr. Owens was into the sexy and melodramatic antics of the doctors of Seattle Grace. “Who’s your favorite?”
“Dr. Torres, I like her feistiness. You actually remind me of her, although I suspect there is a little bit of Bailey in you too.”
“Wow, you really are a fan.”
“Do you have time for a cup of tea?” Dr. Owens asked as he accepted the cookies.“I remember from Sunday that you prefer tea over coffee. Me too.”
Elle followed him to the kitchen then took a seat at the small breakfast nook overlooking the backyard. The parted emerald curtains allowed the midday sun to light the room.
As he prepared the tea and Elle plated a few cookies, they talked more about their shared love of Grey’s Anatomy . It was surreal to chat about something so mundane in the same kitchen where his disappointment had oozed just a few days earlier. Part of Elle wanted to apologize for Sunday, not for standing up for Clayton. Dr. Owens had always seemed a steadying presence to her, but Elle didn’t think he offered the same stalwart support to his son.Elle wrinkled her nose, thinking about holding Clayton as he shared the complicated relationship with his dad.
“Something wrong with the tea?”Dr. Owens inquired, his eyes dropping to Elle’s displeased face. They sat opposite each other at the breakfast table, a pot of English Breakfast tea and plate of cookies between them.
“No. It’s fine,” she assured.
He broke off a piece of a molasses cookie, dunking it in his tea. “How was the trip to Boston? Natalie texted a picture of her and Clayton at lunch. That was nice he went with you.”
“He’s a good man,” she said, her tone soft, but firm.
“Yes, he is…I suspect though, it was more than just being nice. He seems very fond of you.”
“I’m very fond of him too.”
The quiet standoff reared again. Both looked at each other over the tiny porcelain hummingbird teacups.
“Natalie mentioned his clinic has doubled their clients in the last year. Is that true?”he asked, placing his cup on the saucer.
“Yes, they are in the process of looking for another doctor to join the practice.”
“Impressive.”
“You should tell that to your son,”Elle’s hazel eyes locked with his.
Dr. Owens pursed his lips, his wide eyes meeting her narrowed ones. Fitz click-clacked into the room interrupting their stare down.
“Excuse me,”she said, moving over to have her usual chatty greeting with Fitz.
His curly tail moved furiously as she massaged his velvety ears, asking him how his time with his grandparents had been. Out of the corner of her eyes, she tracked Dr. Owens’ expression soften as he watched Fitz press his stocky body into Elle’s petting.
Dr. Owens’ frown curled into a small smile. “Fitz is quite fond of you, as well.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual.” Elle straightened and brushed some stray hairs off her capris.
After washing her hands at the kitchen sink, she sat back down with Dr. Owens. The silence was a momentary reprieve. An unspoken challenge sat between them, waiting. Should she press?
I’ve failed him. Clayton’s confession whispered in her mind.
No baby, he failed you. She squared her shoulders. “You know, you should stop by the clinic one Friday afternoon or during one of your long lunch days.”
“I wouldn’t want to…”he trailed off, looking around the kitchen as if the words could be found somewhere in the cabinets.
“I assure you, all that would happen is your son would feel his father was proud of him.”
Dr. Owens eyes widened.
Elle considered how to proceed through this minefield. In many ways she was threatening to blow up her relationship with Clayton or his with his dad with any misstep in this conversation. It was risky but the pull to fix this, to slay that dragon for him, overpowered any trepidation.
“It’s like when we were kids, and your parents would come to open house at school.We’d get all excited to show you our desk, locker, and whatever project was being displayed.The last time my uncle came to visit, I took him on a tour of the Sloan-Whitney building and showed him my office.It sounds silly but just having him there…it just made me feel like he was proud of me.Even if he doesn’t always understand what I do, just the fact that he asks means so much to me.”
She had a deep, secret desire, one she didn’t share even with herself, to have her mom see who she’d become.To take her mom around the Sloan-Whitney offices. Pride glinting in her mom’s blue eyes as she snapped too many pictures of Elle in her office and shared embarrassing childhood stories.If only she had any of the memories of those moments an adult child rolls their eyes at as their parent mortifies them with too much pride, too much love.
It was too late for Elle, but not for Clayton and his dad.There’s still hope for them. They are not broken.He still loved his son.He just needed to get past the expectation holding him back from fully embracing the amazing man his son is.For him to understand that Clayton exceeded the generational Owens’ first son expectations.That he is so much more.
That he is everything.
“I love my son,” Dr. Owens whispered.
“I know, and he loves you.We can love someone but sometimes forget how to show that we’re proud of them.We respect them.They are worthy.”Elle’s voice cracked. In many ways, this conversation was one she wished someone had with her mom long before that January night.If only someone had battled for Elle before, waking her mom up to what she stood to lose: her daughter.
“You really care about my son.”Dr. Owens’ eyes warmed as he studied Elle.
“So much.” she croaked, the depth of her feelings for Clayton both heavy and light in her chest.
“Thank you.”He reached across the table, taking her hand. “You are definitely a Dr. Torres.”
“Well, I am feisty, Dr. Owens.”
“Call me, Chris. That’s what my friends call me.”