“Good.” Elise would keep eating.
Images from the past dissolved and Elise stared at a patch of tiny roses on the wall of her new bedroom. She could’ve been nicer to her mama, should’ve tried harder. But her mother had no idea how serious Elise was about moving to New York. She was just a lonely single woman who talked often about how her best years were behind her. Her mama didn’t seem to fathom Elise actually moving to the East Coast. Even still, Elise figured things with her mom would work themselves out eventually.
But then the second thing happened.
Elise stood and walked to the window. The sky was mostly dark now. Nighttime settling in.
“Elise, time for dinner!” Her aunt’s voice carried through the small house. “Big day tomorrow!”
Yes. Elise blew at a wisp of her dark hair. Big day for sure. She was going to get straight A’s here in Bloomington. No friends or guys. Not if she wanted to be serious about NYU. And she’d never been more serious about anything.
Elise turned toward the door. “Be right there.” Then she looked out the window again and lifted her eyes to the sky. Things got worse with her mother after that. When the second thing happened her junior year.
She met Randy Collins.
He was the same age, a linebacker on the football team with a reputation as bad off the field as on it. Tall with tanned skin, a Hollywood face, and brown eyes that challenged everything she’d been raised to believe.
Elise knew who he was, of course, but one Friday night, the two of them wound up at the same party. Randy had a beer in his hand when he walked up to her. “Hey, pretty girl.” He moved so close she could smell his breath. His lips curved into a smile, his words slurred. “Where you been all my life?”
The pickup line didn’t feel like one coming from him. She lowered her chin. Then she did something that went against everything she’d known about herself until that moment. She played along.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He pressed into her.
The new Elise was taking shape by the second. She didn’t break eye contact. “Why . . . waiting for tonight of course.” She batted her eyelashes and grinned at him. And as she did she felt something inside her shift. She was flirting, and talking close to a boy at a party. And a thought occurred to her.
She’d never felt this good before.
With Randy Collins so near she didn’t need a drink. His presence was intoxicating enough.
“Elise!” Her aunt was coming for her.
She pulled away from the window and glanced at the mirror on the dresser. Randy used to say she looked like Belle in Beauty and the Beast. A wisp of a girl all long brown hair and big blue eyes. And he was the Beast. That’s what he said.
A few blinks and Elise shook her head. “You don’t look like Belle,” she whispered to herself. “You look ordinary.”
“Elise.” Her aunt sounded beyond frustrated. “Dinner’s getting cold! Please!”
“Coming.” She moved away from the mirror and hurried out the door to the dining room. She wasn’t Belle and she didn’t believe in fairy tales. She was a bad girl, about to make good with her life.
Period.
Her aunt Carol couldn’t cook, but at least she tried. Tonight was meat loaf, with ketchup and something crispy. Onions maybe. Elise wasn’t sure. The green beans were cold, but that was her fault, for being late to dinner.
Uncle Ken spent most of the meal talking about a client. Someone loud and pushy. Ken wasn’t sure he could handle the guy another day.
“I’m telling you, Carol, if he bursts through my door one more time with that tone, I think I’ll . . . I’ll tell him to leave.” He shoved a forkful of beans into his mouth. One still poked out from his lips as he waved his free hand in circles. “I mean it. I don’t need that kind of attitude in my office.”
He caught the spare bean and chomped it. Then he poured himself a second glass of wine. Seemed the more Ken drank, the angrier he got. For the most part Aunt Carol nodded and sipped her own glass. These two drank a bottle a night. Ken kept talking, something about his boss. Carol seemed to do her best to look sympathetic. “Yes, dear,” she would say every minute or so. Another sip of wine. “I understand, dear.”
Elise focused on her meat loaf.
She didn’t like being around so much drinking. Not now that she was away from Randy, anyway. Her mother never drank. “It’s fine for some people,” she would say. “But not for me.” Elise understood. When she was in high school, her mama’s daddy—Elise’s only grandpa—died coming home from a bar. Crashed his pickup into a tree.
Anyway, the drinking made Elise uneasy. Or maybe just sad. Because the life her aunt and uncle lived felt meaningless. Empty. The walls were closing in down here, too.
When dinner was over, she helped Carol with the dishes. She’d agreed to this when she’d moved in. Take on her part of the chores. Elise didn’t mind. It was the least she could do. Clearly having her stay here wasn’t a part of her aunt and uncle’s life plan.
Conversation with Carol wasn’t easy. Not from the day Elise walked through the front door. Like her aunt wasn’t sure what to make of Elise. Now though she seemed thoughtful. “Your mother must’ve been pretty upset to send you here.” Carol was scrubbing the meat loaf pan.
Elise waited, towel ready. “I needed to leave.” They’d never really talked about it before. The details about why Elise was here. Her mother had simply called her big sister over Christmas break and a week later Elise had stepped off a plane in Indiana.
Carol seemed to think about that for a minute. “She was too strict. I know my sister.”
Her aunt’s words were a little mumbled, directed at the soapy sink water and the meat loaf pan. Elise stared at her. “Ma’am?”
“Your mother.” Carol turned to Elise. Something in her stuffy expression said she had all the answers. “She was too hard on you.” A shake of her head, but she didn’t look away. “All that God stuff, going to church, reading the Bible. You’re young.” She sighed and turned to the sink again. “Kids need freedom.”
“Excuse me.” Elise felt a ripple of anger work its way through her. “It’s my fault I’m here.” She kept her tone in check. “My mama had nothing to do with it.”
Aunt Carol looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “I’m just saying.” She rinsed the pan and handed it to Elise. “Anyone would have a hard time living with her. People can’t measure up to the Bible. No one’s that perfect. Including your mother.” A small burp sounded from her lips, but her fingers got there too late to cover it up. She didn’t seem to care. “How do you think you came into the world?”
That was it. Elise’s heart was pounding now. How dare her aunt criticize her mama? She clenched her teeth so she wouldn’t say something she’d regret. Then she dried the pan and set it on the counter. “Aunt Carol.” She hesitated, choosing her words. “Please . . . don’t say another word about my mama. You don’t know her.”
“Well.” Her aunt waved a soapy hand in the air and shot Elise a disgusted look. “I wouldn’t have expected you to defend her. Of all people.”
Elise didn’t respond to that. Ten silent minutes later and she was back in her room. Her heart was still racing, her rage in full gear. Yes, she had been a terrible daughter this past year. Her sweet mother was no match for her and the things she’d done. And no, they weren’t close like they used to be.
But still, Aunt Carol had no right to talk about her that way. Elise wanted to scream at her. None of this was her mama’s fault, not at all. She glanced at the rose-papered walls. They were closing in again.
Elise closed her eyes for a few seconds. Never mind that her aunt and uncle were doing her a favor. The semester couldn’t get over fast enough.
She moved to a small suitcase in the corner of the room and took a sketchbook from inside. The only way to change her mood now was to draw. She grabbed a pencil and sat on the chair near the window.
Like it had a heart of its own, her pencil
began to fly across the page. This drawing wouldn’t be anything original or new. She’d sketched the scene a hundred times before.
The New York City skyline.
She couldn’t wait to be there, breathing in the city air, surrounded by the sounds and feels of Manhattan. And now only one thing stood between her and a move to the city. A semester in Bloomington, Indiana, at a school she’d never heard of before.
Clear Creek High.
2
Time was a thief.
That’s what Cole Baxter Blake had heard his mom say before. The morning of his birthday or during some milestone for their family. It was the reason she painted. So she could capture the moments time stole.
Moments like this one.
Cole parked his car, stepped out and stared at the front of his school. His mom had reminded him earlier this morning that today—January 7—was special. Cole should take time to recognize it. Remember it. And so he would.
He breathed in and let the minute linger. Today was the first day of his last semester at Clear Creek High. A milestone. One more set of classes and midterms and final exams. One more season on the baseball team. One more prom. Then in the blink of an eye it would be May and he’d be wearing a cap and gown.
Headed to Liberty University.
His cousin Jessie was staying home to study elementary education at Indiana University. Some days Cole wanted to stay here, too. Closer to his family. But he’d visited Liberty twice and there was no turning back. God was calling him there, and not only for his undergrad degree but for medical school.
Something he’d decided over Christmas break.
Years from now, at the end of his collegiate journey, he would come back home—to Indiana—and he would work at Bloomington Hospital in the emergency room. Just like his grandpa John Baxter had done for decades.
Today, though, he was still here, still in high school. A bunch of lasts were right around the corner, but for now he would enjoy this first. He grabbed his backpack and pressed the lock button on his key chain.
The senior baseball players were meeting at lunch to talk about the season. They had a chance at the state title this year. It was only Cole’s second year on the team, but he had earned a starting second base position. Practice began tomorrow afternoon. Their first game was two months away.
Across the snowy lawn a pretty blonde waved at him. Carolyn Everly. The two had been friends since freshman year. Twice they’d gone to dances together, but they’d never let things get serious. Cole was always too busy. Carolyn, too. Besides, like his dad told him—when you date things end one of two ways.
In marriage or a breakup.
Cole wasn’t looking for either. Serious relationships could wait till late in college. With all the schooling he had ahead, friendships would have to do for now. He didn’t have time for anything else. He grinned as Carolyn approached. “Good Christmas?”
“The best.” She was a sweet girl, confident and kind. Her laughter lit up her eyes. “We got a new puppy. A golden retriever. Remy.” She opened her phone and flashed a photo. “He’s so cute.”
Cole took a look. “He is cute. I’ll have to come see him!” They kept talking as they walked toward the front doors. Ten minutes until the bell. Before they stepped inside, Cole hesitated. “Wasn’t it yesterday when we were freshmen?” He looked up at the Clear Creek sign over the building. “I remember my dad dropping me off and feeling like this was the biggest school I’d ever seen.”
“Yesterday.” She glanced at him. “Clear Creek High. I used to think I’d never be old enough to go here.”
“And now we’re seniors.”
“Crazy.” She smiled at him. “We’ve had the best time, Cole. I wish we had another four years.”
“Yeah.” Cole didn’t exactly wish that. He was excited about college and moving on with his future. But he knew what she meant. He gave her a quick hug. “I gotta get to chemistry.”
“English Comp for me.” They waved and parted ways.
Cole grabbed the straps of his backpack and picked up his pace. He wanted to be early. Especially on the first day. The science classes were through the main hall, out the back doors and in a separate building twenty yards to the rear of the school. This semester the class was taught by Mr. Hansen. One of Cole’s favorites.
Cole walked in well before the bell, and already most of the kids were at their desks. Front of the room was always his first choice, but that row was taken. The students in Mr. Hansen’s class were serious about school. Like him, most of them were going to be premed in college. He found a spot in the second row and set his backpack on the floor.
“Hey.” Her voice wasn’t familiar. “Do we need composition notebooks for this class?”
Cole looked up and straight into the eyes of a girl he’d never met. Long brown hair layered around her narrow pale face. Blue eyes bigger than the ocean. He sucked in a quiet breath.
“Uh.” He sat up straighter. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. “A few composition notebooks. Yes.”
“Shoot.” She frowned. “I knew I forgot something.” Her smile was back. “I’ll get them after school.”
“No!” Not until he said the word did he realize it was a little too loud. Too fast. Like a command. He cleared his throat. “I mean, I have a bunch of them at home. I’ll bring you a few tomorrow.”
“Really?” She seemed surprised. “Thanks!” With the ease of a dancer she turned in her desk so she was facing him. “I’m Elise Walker. I’m new.”
No kidding. Cole swallowed. His heart was beating so hard he half expected it to burst from his chest and land on the floor between them. “I’m Cole. Cole Blake. I’m a senior.” He didn’t want the conversation to end. “Where’d you transfer from?”
“Louisiana. Leesville.” She wrinkled her nose, like she didn’t expect him to know where that was. “One main street. Four stoplights.”
Cole had a thousand questions. “Your dad got transferred here?”
“No.” The light in Elise’s eyes dimmed a bit. “Nothing like that.”
Mr. Hansen stepped to the front of the room. “Okay, quiet down.” He looked around. “I see some of Clear Creek’s finest here this morning.” A grin made its way up his face. “This is going to be fun.”
Mr. Hansen kept talking, but Cole didn’t hear a word of it. His composition notebook was open, pen ready. Occasionally he caught a phrase or a topic and scribbled it on the lined paper. But mostly he just watched Elise. The way she tossed her pretty hair over her slim shoulders, the seriousness in her big blue eyes, as if her next breath depended on whatever Mr. Hansen was talking about.
“Isn’t that right, Cole?” The teacher was staring straight at him. A heavy silence followed.
“Yes, sir . . .”
“What do you think the medical community means by that?” Mr. Hansen raised his brow at Cole.
Heat filled his cheeks. Come on, Cole. Find your way out of this. “Absolutely.” He remembered to smile. “Whatever you say, Mr. Hansen. I tell everyone you’re the best teacher on campus.”
Mr. Hansen appeared wary, and Cole knew he’d been caught. He hadn’t been listening even a little. But just when the man looked like he might test Cole on the fact, Elise cast him a quick look and then raised her hand.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mr. Hansen’s brow moved up his forehead. “You’d like to help Mr. Blake out, would you?”
“No, sir.” She sat up straighter, her expression as innocent as a child’s. “It’s just, Cole’s telling the truth. I’m new here.” She glanced at a few of their classmates. “First thing he told me when I sat down was how you were the best teacher at Clear Creek.” She looked at Cole like she’d known him forever. Then back to Mr. Hansen. “Just saying.”
The instructor folded his arms. “All right, fine.” He cast a hesitant eye at Cole. “Let’s pay attention. This course moves fast. Lots to learn.”
Cole nodded. “Yes, sir.” He didn’t dare look at Elise. Why in
the world would she rescue him? Making up a story right on the spot? He had no answer, but after that he made a point of paying attention. Never mind the girl, he had a purpose for being in this class. He needed to ace the course and then pass the AP exam at the end of the semester.
He would talk to Elise later.
As it turned out, he had to wait after class to ask Mr. Hansen about the date of the AP test, and by the time he had his answer, Elise was gone. He’d see her tomorrow. Too much on his mind to worry about her today.
But it wasn’t that easy.
For the first time in his life, Cole was instantly obsessed with a girl. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. He caught himself looking for Elise between classes and after lunch with the senior baseball players. He didn’t see her again until the end of the day, when he was walking to his car. She was maybe ten yards away.
“Elise.” He jogged to her. “Wait up.” She turned and smiled at him. She wore jeans and low-heeled boots. A flannel shirt the same color as her eyes. Plain navy backpack. Not a lot of makeup. Definitely more country than most of the girls he knew. It didn’t matter. Elise didn’t need eye shadow. Her beauty was real and raw, the kind that stood on its own.
“That Mr. Hansen.” Her eyes danced into a light laugh. “Best teacher around.”
Cole was a little winded. Not because of the jog but because of Elise. The way she took over his senses. “Why?” He searched her eyes. The afternoon sun shone down on the two of them, taking the chill off the January day. “You . . . didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” She stopped and stared at him, straight through him. “You seemed like you could use a little help.”
“But . . . you barely know me.”
She started walking again and he tried to keep up with her. She shot a look at him over her shoulder. “Composition notebooks.” Another stop and this time she grinned and did the cutest shrug. “My mama always said one good turn deserves another.”
“Yeah, well . . .” He was about to explain that he never would’ve asked her to lie for him, but that could wait. No reason to shift the mood. “Your car in the front lot?” His was, so he figured that’s where she was headed.
Two Weeks: A Novel (The Baxter Family) Page 2