11. Haven
Chapter Eleven
Haven
The following day
Elsa’s voice reached me from down the hall. “What do you think?”
I tried to ignore the way my pulse kicked up at the sound of her voice.
“You can pick whatever colors you want, Elsa,” Jude replied.
I stopped in the doorway to see her standing there. She wore an oversized T-shirt and leggings with paint smeared on her cheek. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun with what appeared to be a broken pen stuck through it.
“What do you think?” she asked, glancing over at me.
I was too distracted by how cute she looked to say a word.
“Haven?” Jude prompted.
Giving myself a mental shake, I glanced at the wall in question. “It looks great.”
Elsa rested one hand on her hip, her arms and hands covered in paint. “I’m going with mostly neutral colors, but every room has an accent wall.” She gestured with the paint roller toward what I presumed was the accent wall.
“Awesome.”
“Really?” Her brow arched up in skepticism.
“Totally awesome,” Jude chimed in.
“I mean it,” I insisted.
“You guys are no help.”
I chuckled. “We’re just happy you’re helping, Elsa.”
“I should be done by the end of the week. I decided to keep it simple and pick the accent wall for every room first, then go through the rest. I’m under budget, according to your mom,” she said.
Jude flashed me a grin before clapping Elsa on the shoulder as he walked past her.
“It looks great.” He left the room, tossing over his shoulder, “I’m headed over to the rescue program.
They called me about needing some help with a new fence, so I’m going to help put that up. I’ll be back in a while.”
That left me alone with Elsa, who had already started rolling paint onto the wall again. I watched as she systematically made her way up and down.
“Thank you for asking me to do this. I forgot that I actually love painting. It’s very soothing.”
“Yeah?”
She cast a quick smile over her shoulder. “Yes. It’s almost meditative. I used to do it in college. Side job. That and waiting tables. Painting didn’t give me tips, but it was more relaxing. Peace and quiet. Nobody bothers you. But waiting tables brought home the bacon, so to speak.”
“Where did you go to college?” I was way too curious about her.
“University of Washington. That’s where I got my marine biology degree and then my master’s. They have a great program there.”
“I would imagine. There are lots of orcas there.”
Her smile turned wistful. “And here too. As I mentioned, whales are my specialty.”
“Well, there are plenty of those in Alaska.”
“There are.” She kept rolling paint and sighed.
“Didn’t you mention you have an interview?”
“I do. It’s tomorrow, so I won’t be able to paint in the morning.”
“You’re going to ace it.”
She finished one wall and glanced over at me. “That’s nice of you to say, but I don’t know.”
“I do,” I said with confidence because I meant it.
I didn’t know a lot about Elsa beyond that she’d been our neighbor and then my high school crush.
“I know you’re a hard worker. You’re up here, all on your own. That counts for something.”
“Really?”
“It matters in Alaska. I bet you know all the things about the whales here.”
She pressed her lips together. “What do you know about marine biology?”
I paused, pressing my tongue in my cheek. “That you monitor migration patterns and track things.”
When she giggled, my heart squeezed tight, and it felt as if that connection between us—one I didn’t even fully understand—tightened.
“I’ll let you know how it goes, although I probably won’t know tomorrow. Who knows how many applicants they have.”
“Wouldn’t hurtyouto be optimistic,” I offered, my voice low.
She rolled her eyes. “Says you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re cynical. More cynical than me, which is saying something.” Her tone was as dry as ash, with an eye roll to boot.
My laugh came out unexpectedly as I shook my head. “Okay, fair point. Also, you don’t have to report to me about your schedule. Or to any of us.”
She rested her hand on her hip again. “I don’t want to keep arguing with you about this. Ineedto help. It’s important. I have to contribute something, and Ilikepainting.”
“I know. But if you didn’t do it, it would be okay.”
She held my gaze long enough that every cell in my body fired before she turned away and began rolling paint on the wall. I had to force my feet to leave the room when all I wanted to do was linger and watch Elsa paint. But that wasn’t rational. She was a distraction. Adelectabledistraction.
That night, I walked through the darkness, listening to the rustle of the wind in the trees, an owl calling into the night with another answering.
When I walked upstairs, Elsa was sitting on the couch.
Her hair was up in another messy bun, and she was wearing sweatpants and a tank top.
When she smiled at me, it was impossible not to smile back.
“Hey.” Her voice was warm.
Just one word was enough to amp up the anticipation humming in my veins.
“Hey.” My voice came out gruff, and I resisted the urge to clear my throat.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m watching TV.” She gestured toward the screen.
“Of course. Youlivehere.”
Elsa tipped her head to the side. “I’m staying here.”
I didn’t know why, but her insistence on making that distinction elicited a wave of protectiveness. “You live here,” I repeated. “Why do you insist on saying you’re juststayinghere?”
I left my boots by the door and hung up my jacket, a sense of trepidation sliding through me as I crossed the room. My draw to her was so strong, I wanted to sit down on the couch beside her and curl my arm around her shoulders.
And what, dude? Are you pretending to play house here?
I forced myself to take the chair instead, keeping a little distance from her.
Elsa studied me for a moment before shrugging. “I don’t know. I guess... well, I’ve only been here two nights, so itfeels temporary. Honestly, everything has felt temporary since we moved away.”
I wanted to tell her that she belonged here, that shewashome. But I kept my mouth shut, even as I felt that truth settle deep inside me.
Elsa shrugged, and I tried not to notice her shoulders.Fuck me , even her shoulders were cute. There was a dusting of freckles on them, and I wanted to count them. I wanted to find every freckle on her curvy body. Instead, I forced myself to look away. “What are you watching?”
When I glanced back at Elsa, her cheeks were pink, and she pressed her lips together before shegiggled . Her fucking giggle was like a lasso around my heart.
“I know reality TV is ridiculous, but I just love it. I never got to watch TV when I was a kid, so I don’t think the specialness of it will ever wear off.
In these shows, their lives are ridiculous.
It’s hysterical because it’s nothing like my life, so it’s fun.
They’re so dramatic and always arguing over stupid things, and I love it.
That’s all.” She let out a happy little sigh.
My lips kicked up on one side, and a chuckle rumbled in my throat. “Hey, if you love it, enjoy it. I’m a fan of that.”
“Of the show?”
“Ofyou watching a show that you love.”
I wanted to ask her so many questions. Just like before, there was aneffervescence to Elsa, probably why I’d crushed on her in high school.
Her basic nature was sunshiny and cheerful, with almost an innocence to it.
My heart twisted in my chest because I knew life wasn’t always sunshiny. I also knew Elsa understood that.
“Anyway, back to the temporary thing,” she said, her voice softer.
“I’m sure you can put the pieces together that moving after my dad passed was hard.
” Something passed through her gaze, but she shook her head, almost as if she were tossing the thought away.
“And before that, it felt like I was just waiting. My dad was kind of funky.” She paused as if working through the thoughts in real time.
“After we moved, it felt like my life was borrowed. I guess that’s how it’s felt since.
” Her voice was softer when she spoke again.
“And finally, I realized I needed to come back here. I mean, that property is mine, and it’s beautiful.
Right?” She nodded to herself, as if I’d questioned it.
“Of course it’s beautiful. Alaska is God’s country.”
A wide smile cracked across her face, and I felt like I’d just given her a present.
“Yes!” she enthused. “It is! I needed to come back because this was the only place that’s ever felt like home to me.
” She let out a soft sigh. “But, I mean, this isyour family’s place.
And you’re being really nice, insisting that I don’t need to pay rent, and blah, blah, blah. ” She circled her hand in the air.
Suddenly, the urge to make sure Elsa felt like she belonged howled inside me.
My life hadn’t been perfect. We’d had a painful loss, first with my dad, who I’d adored, and then the fire. But I had always known where I belonged. Belonging was a sense of place . But I understood it as being connected to my family and all we had together.
“In my opinion, youlive here, Elsa.”
“Stubborn much?” she teased lightly.
“It’s possible I’ve been accused of that,” I said somberly.
She bit her lip as she smiled at me, then lifted a bowl I hadn’t even noticed she had in her lap. What with her freckled shoulders, her messy bun, her smile, and those eyes I could get lost in? Well, I didn’t catch many other details.
“Do you want some kettle corn?” she asked.
The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the couch beside her, eating kettle corn. And even more shocking, I gotsucked right into the drama of the show.
“She’s a shit-stirrer,” Elsa said at one point, pointing at one of the women on the screen.
“Oh, I can see that. But I think that’s part of the job requirement if you will. I mean, they can’t just have people living healthy, stable lives. They’ve got to havestuff happening.”
Elsa’s messy bun bounced with her enthusiastic nod.
I chuckled again. When I got up and stretched before heading toward my room later, I realized I might have smiled and laughed more since Elsa had been here than I had in years. Even when things were good, even before the fire, I’d had a lot to handle.
Yet again that night, I was deeply aware that Elsa was just on the other side of the wall between our rooms.
So close. Yet so far.