Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
“ Always resignation and acceptance. Always prudence and honour and duty. Elinor, where is your heart?”
~Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
T his time next week, I’ll be gone. The thought pulsed a continuous ache in Elle’s chest. Each slap of her sneakers against the Greenway’s well-run path punctuated the knowledge that goodbye was coming. That this time next week, she’d not run with Clayton beside her.
All the if onlys mockingly danced inside her. If only she could flip the calendar back, to get a do-over of these weeks. If only she could freeze time, then she would have frozen the moment Clayton first kissed her. If only she could have pressed pause last night as Clayton asked if she was warm enough as he held her in his arms at the drive-in.
Even now, if she could stretch this run out for a few more minutes, a few more miles, she would. Anything to not say the words choking her.
“That was good.” Clayton sucked in a deep breath as they reached the pickup. “I am thinking omelets when we get home.”
Elle just nodded.
Clayton studied her and his smile faltered. “You’re quiet.”
“It’s Sunday,” she croaked. “This time next week, I’ll be gone.”
Clayton opened his mouth but shut it quickly, his face pinched.
“I’m mucking this up.”She scrubbed her hands down her face. “Clayton, I told you that I didn’t have a plan, but I did. Not about us, but about me. The plan was always to go back.”
“I thought you were ha…ha…happy here…with your family, our friends… You told Pete I make you blissfully happy.”
That ache twinged in her heart. “You do, but I don’t belong here. This isn’t home. This isn’t my life. It’s?—”
“Just your vacation.”
His words gut-punched her.
“I think I realized it in Boston.”
Is that what she’d been doing with him? It wasn’t her life, but it didn’t feel temporary like the fanciful vacation romances Willa had. Even if the time with Clayton was brief, what she felt for him was engraved permanently on her heart.
This place was home for Clayton. After his marriage ended, he could have gone anywhere, but he came here. To his family. To his friends. To his home. This was his shelter in the storm. Perry had only ever been her storm, not her refuge.
A quiet clap of thunder broke the heavy silence between them. The sky grew dark gray, the same as Clayton’s eyes, with the impending storm.
“We should go.” Clayton cleared his throat and motioned to the pickup.
The cab of the truck was stifling with thick heaviness as they drove back to the farmhouse. Fat raindrops tapped angrily against the windows. The rain dulled to a mist as they arrived at the farmhouse. Entering, Clayton grabbed the leash to take Fitz for a walk.
Elle offered to join, but he said, “No, you go take a shower.”
Once he’d left, Elle slid to the floor and pressed her back against the farmhouse’s door. Head buried into her bent knees, she let the tears flow. Each salty sting punctuated the truth roaring inside her. I hurt him. He deserves better. I don’t belong here.
"Stop! You’re not this girl.” She swiped at her face and stood up.
With a deep inhale, she pushed the emotions down and made her way to the bedroom. She pulled out her suitcases from the closet and placed them on the bed. Normally packing was a more thought-out process, but she just pulled things out of drawers and off hangers, tossing them in.
“What are you doing?” Clayton’s pinched greeting startled her.
She’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t heard him enter the room. “Packing.”
His forehead creased. “Why? You don’t leave for another six days.”
“I’m moving back to the Little Red Ba?—”
“No,” he interrupted sharply.
"It makes sense. There’s no reason to drag out the inevitable.”
“In…in…in—” he sucked in a breath. “—inevitable?”
“I’m leaving,” she huffed, flinging a T-shirt onto the pile of clothes in her suitcase.
“Not for another six days,” he repeated, his steely gaze fixed on her.
“It doesn’t matter.” Realizing she’d accidentally packed his Team Paw Patrol T-shirt, she yanked it up and handed it to him. “This is yours.”
He shook his head and refused to take it. “It does matter.”
“Clayton.” She held it out. “Just take the fucking shirt…please.” Her voice cracked.
"No.” He reached for her.
But she stepped back.
“Why are you doing this?”
“I’ve already been so unfair to you. Like you said, I’m on vacation. I’m the one who’s crashed into your life and in six days I get on a plane.”
“I know. You were always going to get on that plane.”
“I’m sorry.” The back of her throat burned.
“No.” This time when he reached for her, she didn’t pull away. “I di…di…didn’t mean it like that. I me…me…meant we always knew you were leaving. We both went into this kn…kno…knowing that.”
“I am leaving, but it doesn’t have to be like before. I’m not like before. I’ll come back. I’ll visit.”
“I know.” He stroked her cheek.
“I don’t know what it looks like, but I want you in my life. That I know.”
His hands gripped her biceps. “I want you in my life too.”
“I don’t want to give you false hope, though. My home is there. Yours is here.”
“Your home…is there.” He said each word carefully as if they were a hot ember threatening to burn him.
“Yes.”She sighed. “I… I want to do what’s fair for you.”
“Let me worry about what’s fair to me. I don’t know what it looks like either, but I want you in my life too.”He closed his eyes. As they reopened, sharp intensity filled his gaze. “Stay with me…until you go. I told you I would rather a mo…mo…moment with you than a lifetime without you. If all I have is a moment or some future stolen ones, I’ll take it.”
“Clayton—”
“P…P…Please,” he implored.
She couldn’t deny him or herself. It would break her to say goodbye, but to be separated by the little pond between the farmhouse and Little Red Barn for the remainder of her time would destroy her. To be so close and not touch or be touched by him was a harsher punishment than having a whole country between them. The remaining tiny sliver of time with Clayton was better than none.
She nodded.
“Promise me something?”
Promises were scary. So many had been made and broken to Elle through the years, so she was careful to only make ones she could keep.
She swallowed thickly. “What?”
“Let’s not live this week like there’s a t…t…t…ticking clock. You will get on that plane the day after Pete’s party. Until then, can we go back to just being us? Please?” His thumbs stroked along her bare arms.
“Ok.”
“Ok.” He pressed his forehead to hers.
“Do you always knock at your parents’ door?” Elle asked, as Clayton and she walked up the steps of the Owens’ yellow Victorian, Fitz trotting in front of them.
“Yes,” he said, shifting the tinfoil covered carrot cake she’d baked to knock.
“Why? You told me that Noah and you never knock on each other’s doors. Why do you knock on your parents’ door, then?”
“Two years ago, I didn’t knock and caught my mom and dad kissing in the kitchen.”
Her face scrunched. “Well, that doesn’t seem so bad.”
“It wouldn’t have been if they had their clothes on.” He shuddered.
“Oh my god!” She barked with laughter. “Oh baby, I am sorry. Were they completely naked?”
“Well, Dad had his bow tie on.”
“What?” Elle stood dumbstruck, as the front door opened.
“Kids! You didn’t need to knock,” Heidi welcomed them with a grin. “Chris, they are here.”
“Coming! Just fixing my bow tie.”
Elle bit back a snicker as Clayton placed a hand over his mouth.
They sat in the formal dining room eating grilled lemon pepper tilapia, aged white cheddar and chive mashed cauliflower, tomatoes and cucumber salad, and garlic biscuits. Chris was a master in the kitchen.
“Your dad tells me he came by the clinic on Friday.” Heidi gushed, a big smile popping. “I was a little jealous when your dad said he got to come into the exam room to watch you work. I’ve only had a tour.”
“You’re very good with your patients.” Chris’ warm smile broadened.
A similar smile lit Clayton’s face. “Thank you.”
Elle’s heart swelled.
“I was really impressed by the way you got that pit bull to sit calmly as you gave vaccinations. You may need to teach me your Jedi mind tricks so I can use them on my patients.”
Elle gasped. “Are you a Star Wars nerd, Chris?”
“Huge!”He beamed, but then his smile dimmed. “I should have come to your clinic sooner, son. I’m sorry I didn’t.”
“It’s okay.” Clayton glanced at his plate.
“No, it’s not okay, but it will be.” He clasped Clayton’s shoulder.
Elle fought the urge to do a fist pump in the air.
Clayton and Elle offered to clean up before coffee, tea, and cake. Elle rinsed dishes as Clayton stacked them in the dishwasher.
Chris hummed “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol. Quietly, Elle pulled her cell phone out of her dress pocket, brought the song up and hit play.
“I know this one!”Heidi crooned and shimmied her arms a little.
Clayton playfully nudged Elle’s hip as his mom swayed in the middle of the kitchen. With the swagger of a ballroom dancer, Chris took his wife in his arms, making her giggle like a schoolgirl.
Elle’s heart tripped, witnessing these two affectionately slow dance in their kitchen as if nobody was watching. The love spiraled around them with every turn, dip, and twist like a private romantic play staged just for them.
“Dance with me.” Clayton’s whisper caressed the shell of her ear.
“Always.” She took his hand.
Clayton spun her around the kitchen, joining his parents.
His out-of-key voice sang along softly, pulling her in before twirling her back out.
Elle’s smile was too big for her face as they swayed, and he sang. He didn’t sing every line but certain ones, as if trying to tell her something through the lyrics. Like a secret only for them. In that moment, she forgot the world, forgot the pain she anticipated from leaving Clayton, and settled in to just being in the moment of the last days of her vacation.