11. Carla
CHAPTER 11
Carla
I sat in the stillness of my car, my hands resting in my lap as my thoughts churned. My conversations with Eli kept replaying in my mind—his teasing, his quiet vulnerability, the way his eyes seemed to ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wasn’t supposed to feel like a teenager again, torn between loyalty to my family and the pull of someone who made my heart race.
What was I doing? It was just supposed to be a couple of days of helping out, nothing more. But now, every time I closed my eyes, it was Eli’s smile I saw, his laugh I heard.
A decade ago, it had been Eli who walked away. I hadn’t understood at the time. I was oblivious, happily head-over-heels for him. Until he shut me out and never explained why. It wasn’t until later that I’d heard the truth. Eli’s father had forbidden him from seeing me. And he’d obeyed.
I didn’t blame him. Truly, I didn’t. We were kids. It was puppy love, right? But that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt. It still hurt to think about. I couldn’t blame him for choosing his family over me. But I would be lying if I didn’t wish he’d chosen differently. Or at least… handled it differently? Would it have hurt less if he’d been honest about it? I wasn’t sure.
What I did know was that I didn’t want to live in the shadow of old grudges. I wanted to live in the present, and the present, right now, was calling me to Eli.
I could already feel the tension that would greet me when I walked into my parents’ house. It was inevitable. Dad wouldn’t like what I had to say, but I had to say it. I couldn’t let fear of his anger dictate my life anymore. I had to face him.
Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and walked toward the door. It was time. Time to lay everything out and finally tell my father that I was my own person—one who was starting to think for myself, starting to make choices for reasons other than family loyalty.
I stepped into my parents’ living room, the familiar scent of the fire mingling with Mom’s lemon-scented furniture polish. Dad sat in his worn leather armchair, paper rustling as he turned the pages of his John Grisham novel. My heart thumped against my ribs as I took a deep breath, readying myself for the conversation ahead.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual as I sank onto the plush floral couch. “How’s the book?”
He grunted noncommittally, eyes still skimming the chapter. I fidgeted with a throw pillow, gathering my courage.
“So, uh, I had an interesting week,” I ventured. “I’m babysitting the Wells boys for a few days.”
Dad’s head snapped up, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. Oh boy, here we go.
“The Wells boys?” he echoed, shutting his book with a crisp snap. “What in tarnation are you doing with them?”
I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Harold and Patty were supposed to watch them while Nathan and Rebecca took a trip, but Harold had a heart attack.”
Dad snorted, but I ignored it. “So, Rebecca needed help. You know me, always happy to lend a hand.”
Dad’s face darkened like storm clouds rolling in over the Blue Ridge Mountains. I braced myself, wishing I could melt into the couch cushions and disappear.
“Carla Jean,” he began, his tone carrying a warning, “I thought we’d been clear about associating with those people.”
Those people. As if the Wells family were some kind of alien species instead of our neighbors for the past three generations. I bit back a sarcastic retort, reminding myself that antagonizing Dad wouldn’t help my case.
“Come on, Dad,” I said, keeping my voice light. “They’re just kids. It’s not like I was plotting some kind of Wells-Putnam alliance.”
Even as the words left my mouth, I felt a twinge of guilt. Because while I might not have been plotting anything, the time I’d spent with Eli had definitely stirred up feelings I thought I’d buried long ago.
Dad’s frown deepened, creating canyons in his weathered face. “It’s not about the kids, Carla. It’s about principles. About loyalty to your family.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Sometimes, I wondered if Dad realized we were living in the 21st century, not feudal Scotland.
“I am loyal to my family,” I insisted, sitting up straighter. “But that doesn’t mean I have to ignore half the town because of some ancient grudge.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I’d pushed too far. Dad’s face flushed red, a vein throbbing in his temple. I braced myself for the impending lecture, wishing I’d kept my big mouth shut.
“Ancient grudge?” Dad’s voice rose, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair. “Is that what you think this is?”
I tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear, trying to calm the nervous energy coursing through me. “Dad, I—“
“No, you listen here, young lady,” he cut me off, leaning forward. “Have you forgotten what that family did to us? To your grandfather’s business?”
I felt my jaw clench, the familiar knot in my stomach tightening. Of course I hadn’t forgotten. How could I, when it was brought up at every family gathering, every holiday dinner? Eli’s grandfather and my grandfather had been business partners. Until Eli’s grandfather torpedoed the business. No one knew why. Or if they did, they weren’t telling me. That was the most frustrating part. No matter how much I pushed, I never got the whole story.
“Whatever happened—whatever the reason was? That was decades ago,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “And his kids had nothing to do with it. You and Harold used to be friends, didn’t you?
Dad scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Carla. You’re being naive.”
I bit my lip, memories of Eli’s kind smile and gentle teasing flashing through my mind. If only Dad knew how wrong he was. But I couldn’t tell him that without revealing too much.
“I’m not naive,” I argued, my frustration building. “I’m just trying to live my life without being weighed down by ancient history.”
Dad’s voice boomed, making me flinch. “Your Grandpa Kenny lost everything. And you think that’s ancient history?”
I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself to stay calm. When I opened them, I met Dad’s gaze head-on. “I understand why you’re upset, but—“
“No, you clearly don’t,” he interrupted, his face flushed with anger. “If you did, you wouldn’t be fraternizing with the enemy.”
The word ‘enemy’ echoed in my head, and I couldn’t help but think of Eli’s warm laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. Some enemy.
“They’re not the enemy, Dad,” I said softly, my heart heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. “They’re just people, like us.”
Just as I thought Dad might explode, Mom’s gentle voice cut through the tension like a cool breeze on a sweltering day.
“Jim, honey,” she said, placing a hand on his arm, “maybe we should all take a deep breath. Carla’s a grown woman now, and she’s always had good judgment.”
I shot Mom a grateful look, feeling some of the tightness in my chest ease. Dad’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and I seized the moment to gather my thoughts.
“Look,” I began, taking a deep breath, “I know this is complicated, and I understand why you’re worried. But I’m not a little girl anymore. I can make my own decisions.”
Dad opened his mouth to argue, but I held up a hand. “Please, let me finish. I’m not trying to hurt you or disrespect our family’s history. But I can’t live my life based on a feud that started before I was born.”
As I spoke, I couldn’t help but think of Eli. His cocky grin, his quick wit, the way he always seemed to know just what to say to make me laugh. But there was more to him than that – I’d seen the vulnerability in his eyes when he talked about trying to prove himself to his father.
“The Wells boys aren’t their father or grandfather,” I continued, my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach. “They’re just... people. Good people, actually. And Eli, he’s...” I trailed off, realizing I’d said more than I meant to.
Dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Eli? The troublemaker? Don’t tell me you’re getting involved with him again.”
I felt my cheeks flush. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just saying, they’re not the villains you think they are. And I need you to trust me on this.”
As the words left my mouth, I realized how true they were. I did need Dad to trust me, because the truth was, I wasn’t even sure I trusted myself when it came to Eli Wells.
Dad’s face hardened, his disappointment etched in the deep lines around his eyes.
I stood up, my legs trembling slightly. “I’m not going to abandon my friends or treat them differently because of something that happened decades ago.”
The air in the room felt thick, heavy with unspoken words and lingering resentment. I could feel Dad’s disapproval radiating off him in waves, but I refused to back down. My heart raced as I grabbed my purse, desperate to escape the suffocating atmosphere.
“I should get going,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll see you later.”
As I walked out, I couldn’t shake the knot of unease in my stomach. Why did everything have to be so complicated?
Five minutes later, I pulled into Nathan and Rebecca’s driveway, the tension in my shoulders easing slightly at the sight of their cozy two-story house. The porch light was on, casting a warm glow over the front yard where the boys’ bikes lay scattered.
I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the remnants of my argument with Dad. As I approached the front door, I felt a smile tugging at my lips despite myself.
I opened the door, and there he was, sprawled on the couch, flipping through channels with a bored expression. A fire department T-shirt clung to his muscular frame, and I forced myself not to stare.
“Hey, stranger,” I said, plopping down next to him.
Eli’s face lit up with a grin that never failed to make me feel warm all over. “Well, if it isn’t my partner in crime. The boys are asleep. Did you have a good time at Bible study?”
I shrugged. “It was fine. What are we watching?”
He must have sensed something in my voice because his expression softened. “You okay, Carla? You seem a little... off.”
“Just family stuff. I stopped by my parents’ after small group,” I said, waving a hand dismissively. “Nothing a good distraction won’t fix.”
Eli’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “Distraction, huh? I think I can manage that.” He flipped to a channel playing reruns of Friends and turned to me with a triumphant grin. “How’s this for a blast from the past?”
As the familiar theme song filled the room, I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. “Perfect,” I admitted, settling back into the cushions.
“So,” Eli said, his voice teasing, “on a scale of one to ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue,’ how mature was this family drama?”
I snorted, nearly choking on my water. “Let’s just say my dad’s still firmly in the ‘Wells family bad, fire hot, stars pretty’ camp.” I gave my best caveman impression with the words.
“Ah, the classics,” Eli nodded sagely. “And here I thought my boyish charm would have won him over by now.”
“I don’t think there is any risk of you winning him over anytime soon,” I retorted, but I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face.
As we watched, trading quips and laughing at the on-screen antics, I found myself relaxing more and more. It was dangerous, this easy camaraderie with Eli. I knew I should keep my distance, but in moments like these, it was hard to remember why.
“You know,” Eli said during a commercial break, his voice softer now, “whatever’s going on with your family... I’m here to listen or distract you or whatever you need. Anytime. You know that, right?”
I looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his dark eyes. For a few seconds, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like if things were different, if there wasn’t this invisible wall between us.
“I know,” I said quietly. “Thanks, Eli.”
He bumped his shoulder against mine playfully, breaking the moment. “Anytime, teach. Now, important question: Ross and Rachel—were they on a break?”
I groaned, throwing a pillow at his head. “Don’t even start!”
I leaned back against the side of the couch, feeling a sense of peace wash over me that I hadn’t experienced in ages. The tension from my earlier conversation with Dad slowly melted away, replaced by the comforting presence of Eli and the familiar sitcom hijinks playing out on screen.
As our laughter filled the room, I realized that for the first time all day, I felt truly at peace. And if a small part of me wished this moment could last forever? Well, that was a problem for another day.
Without warning, Eli reached over and pulled my feet into his lap. I tensed for a moment, ready to pull away, but then I caught sight of his profile—jaw clenched slightly as he focused on the TV, trying to act casual. Oh, great. Cue the heart gymnastics.
I should have moved. I really should have. But... maybe just this once, I could let myself enjoy the moment without overthinking it.
“Comfortable?” Eli asked, his tone light but with an undercurrent I couldn’t quite place.
“Mmm,” I mumbled noncommittally, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Your lap makes a passable footrest, I suppose.”
He snorted. Then he began to knead the balls of my feet, and I bit back a groan. My eyes fell closed, and I listened to the dialogue and the laugh track as he slowly eased the tension from my body. This was playing with fire. But the heat felt so good.
As the episode drew to a close, I found myself stealing glances at Eli. The way the light from the TV played across his features, highlighting those dark eyes that always seemed to see right through me.
When the credits finally rolled, I turned to face him fully, surprised by the softness I found in his expression.
“Hey,” I said quietly. “Thanks for the distraction. I really needed it tonight.”
A familiar smirk tugged at the corner of Eli’s mouth. “What can I say? Providing quality entertainment is just another of my many talents. Right up there with dashing good looks and exceptional firefighting skills.” He winked. “And unbeatable foot massages.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “And don’t forget that stunning modesty of yours.”
But even as the teasing words left my mouth, I noticed something in Eli’s eyes. A warmth, a sincerity that made my breath catch. For a moment, the cocky firefighter facade slipped away, revealing the boy I’d known all those years ago.
“Anytime, Carla,” he said softly. “I mean it.”
And despite all my reservations, despite the voice in my head screaming about feuding families and playboy reputations, I found myself believing him.