Chapter Eighteen – Rachel
It was just a picnic by the creek.
That was all. Just a few sandwiches, some fruit. Some cake. Just like any other Saturday.
Only it wasn’t just any other Saturday. It wasn’t just any other picnic.
Because Elliott would be there.
Was she making a mistake? Maybe she should leave it a little longer...
No, that wasn’t fair to anyone.
Rachel took a steadying breath and turned to look at Lucy and Aria in the back seat.
Both girls were talking at once. Lucy was swinging her legs against the seat, already too full of energy to stay still for long, while Aria sat with the picnic blanket folded neatly across her lap, one hand smoothing the edge as though even excitement ought to be kept in order.
“Remember,” Rachel said, aiming for casual and hoping she sounded it, “Elliott’s joining us today. He said he’d bring something sweet.”
“I hope it’s cake,” Lucy said at once.
“I bet it’s something he learned to make in another country,” Aria said with the quiet certainty she brought to most of her observations.
Rachel smiled despite herself.
The girls had taken the news with such calm acceptance that it had almost unsettled her more than if they had made a fuss.
Lucy had lit up at once. Aria had only nodded, then asked whether that meant he would know the best places to look for interesting stones.
As though Elliott joining them for the afternoon was the sort of thing that made perfect sense.
Rachel, on the other hand, had spent most of the morning tying herself in knots over it.
Which was ridiculous, really. She had seen the man naked, for heaven’s sake. Why on earth was she nervous about him seeing her with peanut butter sandwiches and two children in water shoes?
Because this was different.
This was not a quiet walk, or a hidden hour over coffee. This was Lucy and Aria. This was her real life, laid out in the light.
She pulled into the small gravel parking area by the north trail entrance and switched off the engine.
The day was already warm, the kind of late-summer morning that seemed to hum with insect life.
Sunlight filtered through the trees in soft, shifting patches, and somewhere beyond them she could hear the low, steady rush of the creek over stone.
“Can we go ahead to our spot?” Lucy was already fumbling with her seatbelt.
“Wait for me,” Rachel said, reaching for the cooler. “And keep an eye out for poison ivy.”
Lucy sighed as if this were an insult to her intelligence. “I know what poison ivy looks like, Mom. Three leaves.”
“That’s right. And what do we do if we see it?”
“Stay away and tell you,” Lucy and Aria said together.
Rachel handed each girl something to carry. Aria took the blanket without complaint. Lucy was given the lighter bag with sunscreen and towels, and immediately swung it onto her shoulder as if setting off on a grand expedition.
The cooler was heavier than usual. Rachel had packed extra sandwiches without really meaning to. More fruit than usual. Two kinds of chips because Lucy and Aria never wanted the same kind. She had even remembered the old quilt they liked best, the faded blue one with the fraying edge.
She was overthinking it.
It was just a picnic.
The trail down to the creek was dappled with sunlight and scattered with last year’s leaves.
Lucy hurried ahead, stopping every so often to inspect a stick or rock as though it might turn out to be treasure.
Aria walked more quietly beside Rachel, one hand still keeping the blanket folded neatly against her.
“Is Elliott your friend?” Aria asked suddenly.
Rachel nearly missed her footing.
“Yes,” she said after a moment. “He is.”
Aria considered that. “I like how he explains things.”
Rachel glanced down at her daughter and felt something shift inside her.
Of course, that was what Aria had noticed. Not his smile. Not the cakes. Not even the novelty of him. The way he took her seriously.
“I’m glad,” Rachel said softly.
Aria nodded as though that settled it, then walked on ahead to join her sister.
Rachel followed more slowly, her chest feeling tight in a way she did not quite want to examine. The girls liked him. Lucy openly, with her whole bright heart. Aria more carefully, which somehow felt bigger.
That should have made things simpler.
Instead, it made them feel more real.
Their usual spot was a small stretch of sandy bank where the creek widened and slowed, with flat warm rocks along one side and enough shallow water for paddling when the weather was kind.
Rachel spread the blanket while Lucy and Aria went to inspect the creek, already debating whether it was warm enough to take their shoes off.
She checked her phone. Ten fifty-seven.
He would be here soon.
“Mom, can we paddle?” Lucy called.
“In a minute,” Rachel said. “Let me set everything down first.”
She knelt to unpack the basket, trying not to fuss, though fussing was exactly what she was doing. Plates, napkins, sandwiches, fruit. She had just finished setting everything out when she heard footsteps on the path behind her.
Her heart gave one hard, immediate thud.
When she turned, Elliott was coming through the trees carrying a small cooler in one hand and a paper box in the other. He wore jeans and a blue T-shirt, nothing remarkable, and still the sight of him moving toward them in the filtered morning light made her ache with longing.
“Elliott!” Lucy spotted him first and waved both arms as if he might somehow miss them.
He lifted the box slightly. “I brought provisions.”
Lucy ran toward him at once. “What kind of provisions?”
“The sweet kind,” he said, and then his eyes found Rachel.
The look that passed between them was brief, but it was enough. Enough to make her breath catch. Enough to make her believe it would all turn out okay.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi,” he answered, and somehow that single word was enough.
Elliott set the paper box down on the edge of the blanket. “I brought a few things,” he said. “Thought we might need something sweet for a day by the water.”
Rachel watched as Lucy hovered near him, clearly itching to see what was inside. The way Lucy brightened around Elliott still caught her off guard—that instant, wholehearted ease children sometimes gave without meaning to guard it first.
“Can I look?” Lucy asked, already leaning closer.
Elliott glanced at Rachel before he answered, checking with her first.
“Go ahead,” Rachel said.
Lucy reached for the box at once, but Elliott laid a gentle hand over the lid. “Patience,” he said. “Let’s get everything set up first.”
To Rachel’s surprise, Lucy actually stepped back without argument.
Aria came over more slowly, her gaze moving from Elliott to the box and back again. “Did you make something?” she asked.
“I did,” Elliott said. “Though you’ll have to wait until after lunch to taste it.”
Rachel turned back to her cooler, trying to focus on plates and napkins and not on how natural he looked there already, kneeling on the blanket in the sunlight, as though joining them at the creek was simply the next ordinary step along the way.
The filtered light caught in his hair, and before she could stop herself, she remembered the feel of that same hair between her fingers only nights before.
Heat crept into her cheeks. She reached for the sandwiches before anyone could notice.
“The creek looks perfect today,” Elliott said, glancing toward the water. “Warm enough for paddling?”
“That’s what we were just saying,” Rachel said.
“Can we go in now?” Lucy asked, already tugging at her shoes.
Rachel looked at the water, then at the girls, then back at the picnic half-unpacked around her. Before she could answer, Elliott said, “Maybe after lunch. I haven’t had a picnic by the creek for years.”
Lucy gave him a put-upon look, but didn’t argue.
Aria crouched beside the box again. “Are the cakes from other countries?” she asked.
“Some of them,” Elliott said, kneeling to her level. “The orange cookies were inspired by something I had in Spain, and the little berry tarts are my own attempt to make something prettier than I usually manage.”
Rachel handed out plates and napkins, trying to ignore the flutter low in her stomach. This was only lunch by the creek. Just sunshine through the trees, sandwiches, cake, and Elliott on the blanket beside them.
Elliott, who had slept with her less than two days ago.
The memory came back with such immediate clarity that she fumbled the container of apple slices and had to catch it against her hip.
“You all right?” Elliott asked softly.
“Yes,” she said, far too quickly. “Fine.”
His mouth twitched very slightly, as if he knew exactly what had crossed her mind and was discreet enough not to say so.
They settled on the blanket at last. Rachel passed around sandwiches, and Elliott opened his small cooler to reveal bottles of homemade lemonade nestled beside ice packs.
Lucy’s eyes widened. “You made lemonade too?”
“I thought we might need it,” he said.
Rachel watched as he carried two of the bottles to the edge of the creek and set them into the shallows so they would stay cold. It was such a simple thing, but exactly the kind of thoughtful, practical gesture that always meant more to her than anything grand ever could.
Lunch slipped into an easy rhythm after that.
Lucy talked with her usual bright intensity, pausing only to eat and then talk again.
Aria listened more than she spoke, but when she did, Elliott answered her with the same seriousness he gave Rachel.
He asked about the book she had set down on the blanket beside her.
He listened while Lucy described the fish she was convinced lived under the large, flat rock by the bend.
He reached for napkins before Rachel had to ask and passed the fruit container without fumbling it across the blanket.
“These sandwiches are really good,” he said after a while, accepting a second half when Rachel offered it.
“Mom makes the best ones,” Lucy informed him. “Even when it’s only peanut butter.”
“It’s the honey,” Aria said with quiet authority. “She mixes a little honey in.”
Elliott looked at Rachel with his brows lifting. “Your secret recipe exposed.”
Rachel laughed. “Hardly a recipe.”
“Still effective,” he said, taking another bite.
There was something in his tone that made her glance away before she smiled too openly.
By the time they had finished eating, Rachel realized with a kind of start that she had stopped watching so hard.
Stopped measuring every look, every word, every small exchange between Elliott and the girls as if she were collecting evidence for or against something.
The knot that had been sitting under her ribs all morning had loosened without her noticing.
That, more than anything, unsettled her.
And pleased her, too.
When Elliott finally opened the paper box, Lucy leaned in so far that Rachel had to catch the back of her shirt to stop her from falling into it.
Inside was an assortment of pastries—small berry tarts gleaming in their glaze, tiny cakes dusted with powdered sugar, and orange-scented cookies half dipped in chocolate.
“Oh,” Rachel said before she could stop herself.
Lucy looked reverent. “Those are fancy.”
Aria studied them with greater caution. “Which one took the longest?”
Elliott smiled. “That one,” he said, pointing to the berry tarts. “And the orange cookies are probably the easiest. Maybe we could make some next time we cook together.”
Aria looked pleased enough by that to make Rachel’s chest tighten.
Dessert eaten, shoes finally abandoned, and lemonade pulled from the creek cold enough to make Lucy squeal, the girls were more than ready to paddle.
Rachel stood to gather up the plates, but Elliott was already on his feet.
“I’ll keep an eye on them,” he said. “If you want five minutes to relax.”
It was such a simple offer.
But it meant so much.
With Elliott here, she didn’t always have to do every small thing alone.
“All right,” she said. “But stay where I can see you.”
“I will,” Elliott said, and winked, making her blush.
Lucy whooped and ran for the water, while Aria moved more carefully behind her, picking her way over the stones with deliberate steps. Elliott rolled up his jeans and followed them into the shallows.
Lucy stepped in first and squealed at the chill, splashing at once. Aria tested it more cautiously, one toe at a time. Elliott made an exaggerated face of shock that had Lucy dissolving into laughter.
“It’s freezing!” he said.
“It is not,” Lucy insisted, splashing him again.
Rachel sank back onto the blanket and watched them.
Elliott bent his head to listen as Aria pointed out something near the bank, then crouched beside her as if whatever she had noticed deserved his full attention.
Lucy pressed close on his other side, talking over them both.
A moment later, he straightened, one arm out to steady Lucy as she clambered onto a slippery rock.
They looked easy together.
As if this was how it was meant to be.
And she wanted to be part of the picture.
“What are we looking at?” Rachel asked as she went to join them.
“Fish,” Lucy announced.
For three blissful hours, they frolicked in the creek, lay on the blanket drying off, and drank homemade lemonade, until the afternoon started to cool.
Then they packed everything up and headed back to the cars.
Lucy ran ahead, then turned back almost at once because she never seemed able to keep going in one direction for long. Aria stayed closer. As Elliott shifted the cooler to one hand, she reached for the other as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Rachel looked up and saw it. But there was no spike of anxiety. No fear that she was making a mistake.
Lucy stopped by the car door. “Are you coming home with us for dinner?” she asked Elliott.
For a second, nobody said anything.
Elliott looked at Rachel.
He didn’t laugh it off. He didn’t answer Lucy straight away. He just looked at Rachel and left it with her.
Rachel looked at all three of them and knew exactly what kind of step this was.
Home was different.
She should probably have hesitated longer than she did.
Instead, she heard herself say, “All right.”
Lucy’s whole face brightened. “Good.”
Then Elliott smiled, small and real, and Rachel smiled right back.
“If you want to, that is,” Rachel asked him.
“Yes,” he said.
And that was that.
She had let him one step further in.