Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
“When I fall in love, it will be forever.”
~Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
E lle walked quietly through Hope Cemetery. The baby blue sky was clear, not a cloud to mar its brightness.
Somberly, she strolled on the cobblestone path looping through the graves, a bouquet of pink roses picked by Aunt Janet in her right hand. The area she sought was toward the back of the cemetery in the middle of a row of other long gone loved ones. Some kind soul had positioned a stone bench across from her grandparents’ final resting places. A perfect spot for the living to visit the dead.
“Hi grandpa.”Elle smiled sadly as she placed her hand on his smooth gravestone.
She’d been so little when he’d passed that she’d never grieved him like she mourned her grandma. Grandpa seemed like a wispy, cloudy memory, but grandma was her sun; warm, nourishing but sometimes able to burn. Walking carefully around his marker to avoid stepping on his actual grave, she crouched placing the pink roses at the foot of her grandma’s gravestone beside another arrangement of pink tulips, a gift from Uncle Pete, she was sure.
“Happy birthday, Grandma. It’s Elle…Eleanor.”
Grandma had only ever known Eleanor.
“I know it’s been a long time. I’m sorry. I don’t know if mom ever visits you, but we’re not talking.” Elle’s voice cracked. “I don’t want to talk about that, though. I’m doing good, Grandma. I have a career that helps a lot of people.” She traced a finger over the starfish bangle she’d worn since Clayton clasped it on her wrist. “I live in California. Remember my friend, Viet? I told you about him last time I was here. He’s still my best friend and I have another one, Willa. You’d like her. She really embodies ‘let me be me.’ I have a…”she trailed off, her gaze pulled to the moss-covered brick wall surrounding the cemetery.
They were so similar to the walls around her heart that kept the living out, and the dead in.Had she been a ghost merely haunting this world instead of truly living in it? Sucking in the late summer air, its freshness filled her lungs, reminding her of the reinvigorating citrus scent of her Clayton.
My Clayton. My boyfriend. My everything. My love.
She exhaled, finally naming that feeling inside her. The feeling she refused to see, that she fought. It had been slow and quiet, but she’d fallen in love with Clayton. Each moment with him was a step to this realization. His off-key voice singing to her as they slow danced in the hallway outside the ballroom. Their first run together, neither seeming to want to let go of each other’s hand. It started even further back when beside her in Spanish class he murmured his apology for their interaction at that Winter Ball. Had she known even then that she loved him?
She refocused on the headstone, a tender smile curving her lips. “I have a boyfriend. It’s Dr. Owens’ son. His name is Clayton and I love him so much.”An errant tear rolled down her cheek. “You used to say boys don’t like fat girls. Well, he liked me when I was fat. I just didn’t like me for a very long time. I think even now. I think you’re part of the reason why. I know you meant well, but you sometimes left me feeling like I was unlovable.”
People can love you and hurt you at the same time. They only have that power because you love them . It was something Willa had once said.
She sighed. “You hurt me, but I still love you. I still miss you…”Elle bent down to place a gentle kiss on the engraved Grandmother on the gravestone. “…I forgive you.”
Forgiveness takes the power away from the words that bound her, allowing her to try to be free.
Wiping her eyes, she sat back on her heels. Her cell phone pinged with an incoming text. Slipping her mobile out of her dress pocket, a tiny thrill swept through her at the message from Clayton.
Fitz’s Human: How are you?
Elle: I’m visiting my grandma for her birthday.
Fitz’s Human: Are you at the cemetery? I’m taking a lunch break. I could come by if you want me.
It was nice how he asked “want” and not “need.”
Elle: I appreciate that, but I’m just about to leave. How’s your day?
Fitz’s Human: Good but it will be better at 5:15 p.m.
Elle:Why?
Fitz’s Human: That’s when we come home to you.
Home? Pulse ticked up, she ran her thumb over his words and the selfie he’s sent of him and Fitz in his office. “My boys,” she whispered.
Elle: Remember, I’m going to Daryl’s with Tobey and Pete for dinner. I’m meeting them at 5 p.m.
She let out a loud snort at a second selfie of Clayton and Fitz, pouting. Although, it was Fitz’s normal face.
Elle: I’ll bring you a few slices of mushroom pizza that you can have after we work up an appetite by not being normal together.
Fitz’s Human: I like not being normal with you.
With a salacious smile that felt inappropriate for a cemetery, Elle made her way, through the rows of sun-soaked gravestones, towards the entrance. The residue of sadness from her interaction with her dead grandma fell away with each step. Reaching the cobblestone path that looped through the cemetery’s center, she spotted a small figure bent down at a grave.They were the only visitors in this solemn place. The figure was at the second marker from the path’s edge. As Elle’s eyes fixated on the dark blonde curls, her stomach knotted.
Mom… Who is she visiting?
Elle squinted at the back of the stone her mother crouched at. Wordlessly her mother rose and faced her. Reminiscent of gunslingers in a bad western movie, their stares squared off in a showdown between mother and daughter. Who will speak first? Who will walk away first?
With a deep breath, Elle’s steps resumed.
“Eleanor.” Her mom’s voice was soft.
She’d intended to walk on by, but her feet stopped, despite her will to keep walking.
Mom’s smile was shy. “You look good.”
“Excuse me?” Elle snarled.
It had been almost eighteen years since the woman who’d given her life had failed her. The last words her mom spoke to her before today was, “He wouldn’t do that. He loves me.”
This greeting felt too insignificant to be the first words she heard from her mom’s lips after nearly two decades of silence. Fiery indignation ignited in Elle. What did she expect? What did she hope for? An apology?
“I…”Her mom lowered her gaze to the ground.
Words are hard.
A flicker of something, hope or guilt, propelled Elle toward her mom until her eyes fell on the name engraved on the marker. Jamie Leicester .
Bile rose like a snake, choking and viscous. Bending over, she heaved, the acidic anger burning her throat as she vomited.
“Eleanor,” her mom soothed, wrapping thin arms around her shoulders.
“Get off!” Elle screamed and shoved her mother away.
Her mom stumbled to the ground.“Eleanor?—”
“I am not fucking Eleanor. I am Elle,” she bit out, wiping the sick from her mouth before facing her mother, who remained sprawled on the ground, her blue eyes welling with tears. Elle wiped her mouth again. “Are you visiting him ?”
“El…”
“Are you visiting him?” she hissed.
“Yes, but?—”
Elle cut the woman off with a flash of her hands and let an angry laugh escape. “You still choose everyone over me.I have been here for three weeks, and you have not tried once to see me. You’ve never reached out.”
“But your uncle said?—”
“You’re my mother. Although that’s a joke, isn’t it? You haven’t been a mother for a very long time. You were too consumed with being a fucking wife. You completely forgot you were a mother. You forgot about me! You weren’t being a mom when you tried to kill yourself, leaving a note saying you didn’t want to be alone.You weren’t alone. I was there.I. Was. There!” She drew a harsh breath.“You weren’t a mother when you kept choosing man after man over me. Men that emotionally abused me with cruel names and comments.A man who raped me.”
She practically gagged on the word. She’d never said out loud. Rape. That’s what Jamie had done. He’d raped her. She always referred to it as “What Jamie did” or “That January night.” All the flowery language that hid the truth of his brutal attack and the impact on her. And it wasn’t just him. But her mother’s refusal to protect her, the bigger betrayal.
Her mom’s lips quivered. “Honey…I…”
“He raped me.”Elle slammed her fist against her chest. “He raped me, and you did nothing.”
“What?”
Elle spun at the pained deep baritone voice from behind her.
Tobey stood, his face drawn with heart-wrenching disbelief.
“Tobey.” she gasped, falling to her knees in a heap of convulsing sobs.
“Eleanor,” her mom bent and reached for Elle.
“No!” Tobey growled, blocking Elle’s mother’s approach. Flinging his arms around Elle, he pressed her shaking form into his steady chest. “Leave.”
“Tobey.”
“Aunt Amanda, just leave,” he demanded.
“Tobey—”
“Fucking leave!” The venom in his voice was mismatched with the tenderness his arms provided Elle.
Retreating footsteps grew distant as Tobey held her. “I’m here.”
Elle buried her face against his chest. Heavy, guttural sobs quaked through her.
She didn’t want him to see her like this, to see her broken.
“I’m here. I’m here,” he soothed as if a mantra, warding off any ill that threatened.
Time is a funny thing. The sweetest moments can feel like seconds and the most painful, hours. Elle wasn’t sure how long she remained slumped in Tobey’s arms, but he never moved, remaining on his knees, his arms tight around her.
“I’m sorry.”Elle finally sat up, brushing lingering tears off her face.
“Why are you sorry?”
“I don’t know.”
“Elle, what happened?”
“Are you asking as my cousin or as Officer Coates?” she sniffed.
“Trooper Coates,” he corrected reflexively. He winced as he realized what he had said, but with a reassuring squeeze of his hands he relaxed. “Your cousin. Always.”
Her ugly truths, long unspoken, tripped on her lips. “I…I was visiting Grandma.” Elle motioned to the pink carnations Tobey had discarded, an offering for their grandma. “When I was leaving, I spotted Mom here. Then I saw who she was visiting.” Each syllable twisted angrily in the breeze,
“Who was she visiting?”
“Do you remember Jamie?”
“Yeah. He was a dick,” Tobey grumbled.
“You thought so?” Elle raised an eyebrow.
“The things he’d say to you and the way he looked at you.I didn’t like him.I didn’t trust him.”Tobey stopped speaking, looking between Jamie’s gravestone and Elle, an angry red flashing into his face.“Was it him?”
She swallowed hard. “During winter break my freshman year, Jamie raped me.”
Tobey’s hand hovered over hers, as if trying to figure out if he should touch her or not. Elle held her breath until his warm palm rested on her. She closed her eyes in relief.
“I’ve only told two other people this. Well, now three.” Mom still didn’t believe her, so she shouldn’t count.
“Your mom and…”
“Clayton.”
“Clayton?”
“I told him the night of your wedding, after running into Mom. I had a bit of a break down, and he was there.”
“He’s a good man.”
“The best.” Her lips tugged up.
“Your mom?”
“I told her a few weeks after it happened, but she just kept saying that he wouldn’t do that and repeating that he loved her.”
“What the fuck?” Storm clouds darkened his blue eyes.
“She always chose them, her men, over me.”
“If my dad knew, he’d be furious with her.”
“Please don’t tell him. He can’t know,” she begged.
“Elle, this is your story; you choose who to share it with.”
“No. It’s not my story!” Elle screamed, gesturing to her heart. “It’s part, but it’s not all.I’m so much more than this.I’m so much more than all of it.”
This had defined her for so long. All of it. The abandonment, the emotional neglect, the mocking cruel jabs, the prodding to be better somehow, and the rape had wrapped their gnarled fingers around her, holding her in place as their sharp teeth attempted to devour all that was good about Eleanor. But as Elle, she’d discovered she was a phoenix rising from the ashes of who she’d been.
“You’re right.” He squeezed her hand. “You always are.”
“Well, I am one of your favorite people.”Her statement sounded more like a question as she peered back at his softening features.
“I think you’re my favorite, actually.”He leaned in and looped his arm around her shoulder, pressing her into his side. “Just don’t tell Jerome.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
“I’m not going to say anything to dad, and I won’t push you, but if you told him, he’d understand.He loves you.”
“I know and I love him, that’s why I can’t…why I won’t tell him.”
“I don’t understand.”
“First, what would it do to him to know he wasn’t there to protect me?There was nothing he could have done, but you know he’ll blame himself. Second, he lost his parents. I don’t want to be the reason he loses his sister.”
“Third, you don’t want to take him away from her.” Tobey said, his voice resigned. “You’re still taking care of her, even though she never took care of you.”
“Are you Oprah-ing me?” Elle snarked, lightly elbowing his ribs.
“You get a car! You get a car! You get a car! Gayle! Steadman!” Tobey’s Oprah impression was truly horrific.
“Never do that again.”She chuckled. “Ugh, I am a mess.” She sat up, surveying her rumpled dress. She was certain her face was splotchy and eyes rimmed in red.
“Let me take you to the farmhouse. You can clean up and then I have a surefire solution to turn that frown upside down.” Tobey suggested, standing up and putting out his hand for Elle to take.
Forty-five minutes later, face washed, and clothes changed, Elle bounced on her feet excitedly like a squealing teenaged girl at a Taylor Swift concert. Tobey said he was taking her to the barber to pick up Lt. Scout from his monthly haircut, but this wasn’t an ordinary barber. Paws of Perry-dise was the premier, and only, dog groomer in Perry. The peanut butter cookie scented puppy salon featured bone-shaped dog beds for its clientele to lounge in between mani/pedis, trims, sudsy baths, teeth cleaning, and massages. It rivaled a human spa.
“Stop it!” Elle gushed, as a recently groomed Lt. Scout pranced into the room wearing a lavender bow tie.
“Damn right, he’s a sexy beast. All the Coates men are.” Tobey puffed out his chest.
“Aw, you’re a sexy beast.” Elle stood up, pinching her cousin’s cheeks.
“How was dinner?” Clayton asked as Elle walked into the farmhouse carrying her leftovers and a small mushroom pizza for him.
“Really good. How was your day?”
“My dad showed up at the clinic this afternoon.” Clayton grinned boyishly, taking the bags and pizza box from her.
“Really?”Her lips curled up.
“He showed up mid-afternoon. I gave him a short tour and introduced him to the staff. He even asked to stay and watch me work. He stayed for the rest of the day.”
“ Really? ”
“Yeah. When we were closing, he asked if he could take me for ice cream.”
“Really?” She may need to learn a new word, but joy was stealing all her other words.
“We used to go for ice cream when I was a kid and did well on a test or scored in a football game.”
“So, a celebratory I’m proud of you ice cream?” Elle’s voice was sweetly reassuring.
“Yeah,” he said, his smile reaching his eyes.
“Baby, that’s great.” She wove her arms around his torso, leaning into his strong chest to listen to the steady beat of his happy heart.
“How was seeing your grandma?” he murmured.
“A lot.” She looked up at him. “I want to tell you, but it’s a lot.”
“I have a proposal. How about we go upstairs and be not normal together, then we can have a snack and talk.”
“Counter proposal.” Elle bit her lip. “Let’s be not normal together, have a snack, take Fitz for a walk, burn off said snack with more not being normal, and then talk.”
“Deal.”He traced his fingers along her lips.
How did she fall in love with the boy whose eyes she once thought judgy but the man whose grey gaze she wanted to submerge herself in? She loved this man deeply, but she wouldn’t tell him. What would come of it? How could she stay here where too many ghosts lurked? How could she ask him to leave? They needed to talk about tomorrow, the metaphoric one hurtling toward them. But she didn’t want to discuss that today. Today they would be “not normal.”
Yet later, limbs twisted together on the couch, those words tapped on her lips, but remained unspoken.
I love you, Clayton.