by Meg Easton
“The credit for dinner goes to me, too,” he said as he pulled the cooler closer. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” Whitney was surprised at how hungry she was— with all the brainstorming, she hadn’t even noticed.
Eli pulled out all the food, and Whitney’s mouth started watering. She bit into the turkey, bacon, and avocado sandwich seconds after Eli placed it in front of her, and before even swallowing, she moaned, “This is amazing.”
He tossed her a bag of chips and winked. “Just give me a plastic knife, a microwave, and a mini fridge, and there’s no telling what I can come up with.”
Whitney swallowed her bite and said, “You didn’t just go to your parents to make it?”
Eli gave an amused snort. “No.” Then after a pause, he added, “But I guess I could have— they don’t get home from the hospital until tomorrow. But breaking into their house would’ve been a little weird.”
Whitney was trying to interpret his expressions, but not getting enough to really figure him out. She couldn’t even guess which questions were okay to ask. So carefully, like she was approaching an injured animal, she asked with as much indifference as she could manage, “Have you been at the hospital much?”
He shook his head. “Just the day he had his surgery— the first day I was in town. But I’ve been getting text updates from my mom. Apparently he’s driving the nursing staff crazy. They’re just as ready for him to leave as he is.”
“Your dad’s a fighter. He’ll be up and just as active before you know it.”
“That’s what everyone’s hoping,” Eli said, with two thumbs up and a grimace.
Whitney launched a carrot stick at him. He dodged, and launched a piece of broccoli in retaliation.
They both took a couple of bites in silence. Then Eli said, “I’ve got to go over and visit when they get settled back home tomorrow, though.” After a beat, he said, “You should go with me.”
Whitney held up one finger as she finished chewing a bite of her sandwich, unable to answer.
“My parents have always loved you. And if you go with me, my dad probably won’t tell me I’m going to ruin his company. As much. Please. Say you’ll come with me.”
Whitney swallowed and laughed. “Okay, I’ll go with you to visit your recovering father so that you won’t get into trouble. As much.”
They finished eating and cleaned up everything, but still the ski lift hadn’t restarted. It was a beautiful day, though, so Whitney lay back on the blanket and stared up at the sky. A moment later, Eli lay down right beside her, and they both looked up at the big fluffy clouds.
“Right up there,” Whitney said, pointing at a cloud. “That’s an elephant, running on her hind legs. That jet stream is the ribbon at the finish line, and she’s thrown her arms out because she’s almost there and about to win.”
Eli pointed up at a different cloud. “And that raccoon isn’t too happy about it. That’s the elephant’s bag of peanuts right there, and he’s pouring ants into it.”
Staring up at the sky reminded Whitney of a time near the end of their senior year when they’d both been laying on a blanket, staring up at the stars. She’d felt just as peaceful and happy then.
She turned to her side, her head resting in her hand, propped up by her elbow. Eli turned her direction, mirroring her. For a moment, she allowed herself to just look at him and how he’d changed. The dark curls that used to fall free in a messy brilliance were now trimmed closer on the sides. It was still long enough on top to be fun, but the hair all fell into place as if this neater, more professional look was the way it meant to be all along. He had the full force of his icy blue eyes fixed on her, and she might as well have been in a trance for how hard it was to look away.
“Are you dating anyone?” Nice, Whitney. Nice and smooth. It came out sounding like she was about to ask him on a date or something, instead of out of pure curiosity like she’d meant it.
He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Nope. I’m not a fan. You?”
She should’ve seen that question coming. Maybe she should think before she asked questions all willy nilly. She decided to go for a simple, “No. I don’t date.” His brow crinkled, confused. He took a breath like he was about to ask why, but that answer was too complicated, and she wasn’t about to get into it. So before he could ask, she threw her own question out there. “Why aren’t you a fan of dating? Was there a serious relationship in your past that ended badly?” Seriously, Whitney, she scolded herself. Way to ease in to the hard questions.
He studied her, emotions crossing his face so quickly she couldn’t even name one before the next came. Still, he didn’t take his eyes off hers. Eventually, he answered. “You can’t get in a serious relationship if you limit yourself to dating each person for two weeks tops. Works out pretty well.”
She had so many questions about that she wanted to ask. She wanted all the details. But instead of blurting out a question, she decided to learn from her last two mistakes and think first. Which gave him the opening he needed to ask her the next question first.
“What about you? Any serious relationships in your past that ended badly?”
She wasn’t sure what expression, exactly, crossed her face, but his reaction told her it wasn’t good. He looked like he might backtrack and tell her she didn’t have to answer, but she plowed forward anyway. She’d rather answer this one than some others he could ask. “One. About a year out of college, I was engaged. We’d been together for nearly three years, but two months before we were supposed to be married, he decided that a job in New York was more important.”
“Is that when you stopped dating?”
His expression was so full of concern, she wanted to reach out and put a hand on his cheek. Luckily, she stopped herself. “No. Not right then.”
Instead of touching his cheek, she whacked him on the shoulder, knocking him over and causing him to yelp as he caught himself.
“Sorry! There was a huge bug on your shoulder!”
He righted himself and raised an eyebrow.
“I swear. Look— it’s crawling off right over there. It’s practically the size of a chipmunk!”
But he didn’t turn to look. He just kept his eyes on hers, his eyebrow raised. His perfect eyebrow and those beautiful eyes. His expression crinkled his forehead slightly and the corner of his mouth quirked up in the faintest smile. She could gaze at that face all day long and still not take it in enough.
The wind blew a lock of hair across her face, and he reached out and tucked it behind her ear, his hand lingering longer than needed, before grazing his fingertips down her neck, across her shoulder, and down her arm resting at her side. His touch sent electricity zinging a trail behind it and down her spine.
His eyes shifted from her eyes to her lips, which made her eyes fly to his lips. After being friends for so long in high school, they’d dated for four months before he left, and she never felt like she’d gotten enough time kissing those lips. Those lips that were just barely parted and looking so soft and inviting. She leaned in and he leaned in, her eyes back on his, taking in all the ice blue facets, their faces just inches away. She moved to close the last bit of distance when the ski lift whirred back to life.
They both turned their heads to the direction of the lift before turning back. It was enough, though, to break the spell, and Whitney leapt up.
What was she doing?
They needed to stop lying on blankets and staring up at the sky, because bad things happened when they did that. They had been going along just fine as friends for a year and five months, and it was a kiss on a blanket that changed everything, making his leaving so much more difficult. And here she was, almost allowing the same thing happen. She paced a few steps, hands on her hips. “We’ve got to go.”
She picked up her camera bag and ducked under the strap, not meeting his gaze, knowing he probably had a bewildered expression on his face. But with her brain all swirling and lightheaded and confused, she was unsure o
f what to do about that. Eli stood, his motions slow and careful as she gathered the blanket and slung it over an arm, not even bothering to fold it. He picked up the cooler, swung the strap over his shoulder, and they headed back down the trail to the tram.
Chapter Ten
Eli tried to hide a yawn as he filled out a form for a couple of newlywed tourists who were renting a pair of mountain bikes and helmets. He shouldn’t have lain awake in bed all night, thinking about his almost kiss with Whitney, about how it had felt to touch her skin or hold her hand. And he definitely shouldn’t have replayed in his mind over and over that moment when she pulled away so quickly. Something had spooked her, but he couldn’t guess what it might be. Maybe she’d just been caught up in the moment, and then remembered that she was still mad at him. Fair enough.
The couple signed the papers, paid, and Eli led them to the bikes, had them choose helmets, and then gave them some instructions and a map to the biking trails. He watched the pair grin at each other as they walked the bikes out of the shop.
If he couldn’t guess what stopped Whitney last night, he didn’t know if it was the kind of something that would make her not want to go with him to visit his parents tonight. He pulled out his phone and texted her.
Are we still on for tonight?
I never miss the chance to throw a bucket of water on a potential family fire. ;)
Her response came quickly, and she was joking around with him. Both good signs.
I’m not sure a bucket will be enough. Want me to stop by the fire station and borrow some turnouts to shield you from the flames?
Nah. I’ll just bring some marshmallows and roasting sticks. Come pick me up at the paper whenever you’re ready.
It’ll be close to 7 before I’m there. You’ll be there that late?
When you’ve got an editorial staff made entirely of people still in school, 7 isn’t late at all.
Eli had the shop closed up, the books finished, and the deposit ready by 6:45. He walked three buildings over, and stepped into the Gazette’s building for the first time since he was in high school. Whitney didn’t see him walk in, so he just stayed at the door for a few moments so he could watch her in action. She was crouched down next to a high school girl at a desk, discussing an article the girl wrote.
They finished, and Whitney said, “This one’s looking great. How’s that article about the businesses participating in Fall Market?”
“Not finished yet.”
“No problem. Let me know when you’re ready for me to look at it.” A little louder, Whitney said, “Scott. What do you have for me?”
“I’ve finished the one about how the freeway construction project ending is affecting tourism numbers and the one about the service project the Swingin’ Seniors are doing for the newborn babies.”
“You are brilliant and amazing,” Whitney said. “Are you ready for me to come check them out?”
“Yeah,” Scott said, “but I think maybe you should check out our guest instead.”
Eli smiled as Whitney spun from her crouch to a standing position, facing him. “What’s this I hear about you checking me out?” he asked.
Whitney laughed, and turned back to Scott. “Just email them to me, and I’ll get edits back to you later.”
She said goodbye to both of her employees, then went to her desk and grabbed her blazer from the back of her chair. Eli noticed that the swan he’d made her from the napkin at Keetch’s was sitting on her desk and it made him smile. It was something, at least.
“You ready?”
Whitney swung her jacket on, and then grabbed a balloon bouquet from behind the door he hadn’t noticed. “Am now.”
They walked down Main Street, back to where his car was parked behind Treanor’s. Whitney held the balloons in the hand nearest him, so they couldn’t walk close together. She wasn’t so all-business as she was when they’d first started planning the decorations at Keetch’s, but he had definitely been friend-zoned.
The closer they got to his parents’ house, the more nervous Eli got. He was a grown man. A grown man with a very successful business. How could his dad always make him feel like a punk kid who couldn’t get his life together? It had been a long time since he’d been that kid. He pulled into his parents’ driveway, then got out of the car and opened the door for Whitney.
She must’ve sensed his apprehension, because she reached out, put her hand on his arm, and said, “You’ve got this.”
He just gave her a smile that he didn’t feel at all, and then went to the door. His mom smiled so big when she opened the door that Eli wondered if she was happier to see Whitney than she was to see him. His dad’s face even lit up when they walked into his bedroom, where he was propped up in his bed with half a dozen pillows.
The conversation between him, Whitney, and his parents went smoothly. They talked about the paper, things going on in town, the weather, and tourism numbers. Bringing Whitney was a great idea. Maybe he could convince her to come with him every time.
“Let’s see your shirt, dear,” Eli’s mom said, so Whitney pulled her blazer open a bit, and his mom read out loud, “‘I’m a journalist; assume I’m write.’ Oh that’s funny. I haven’t seen that one before. Did you see that, Robert? Instead of ‘right,’ it used ‘write,’ like writing an article.”
His dad chuckled, and then adjusted himself in the bed, sucking in a pained breath.
“Oh, it’s probably time for your medicine,” Eli’s mom said. “Let me get you some water.”
“I’ll get it,” Whitney said. “You stay right here and rest— you look exhausted. Were you able to sleep at the hospital?” When Eli’s mom nodded, Whitney added, “You probably didn’t get much sleep, though. I’ll be right back.”
Eli stood when Whitney did. “I’ll help.”
Except when they got to the kitchen, Whitney didn’t seem to need much help at all. “Your parents have had some rough days, and probably have some pretty rough ones ahead of them.” She opened a cupboard and pulled out two glasses. “I should bring them dinner. Actually, I should go to the Helping Hands group at church, and see if we can get volunteers to bring them in dinner for the next week or so.” She opened the fridge, pulled out a pitcher of water, and poured it into both cups. Then she opened a pantry door and pulled out a flat tray and put both cups of water on it. “These are probably his pills,” she said, picking two bottles up from the counter.
“How do you know where everything is in their kitchen even better than I do?”
Whitney shrugged. “Because I lived here.”
“You... What?” Eli stared at her, dazed.
“Well, I didn’t live here live here.” She put the medicine bottles on the tray. “Instead of going to University of Denver with me, like a good little sister, Jackie decided to go to University of South Carolina. A month into my senior year, my mom decided to join her there. I still came back home every weekend, though, because I still worked for the paper, but I no longer had a home to go to. So your parents and a couple other families took turns letting me stay with them.”
Why had it not occurred to him to ask her about her family yet? Whitney studied his face for a moment, and must’ve figured out part of what he was feeling better than he figured out himself, because then she added, “Oh— you’re jealous!”
Eli scoffed. “I’m not jealous. I went away by my own choice. Neither of them kicked me out. Plus, they weren’t exactly together when I moved out.”
“It’s not like I moved in or anything, and it wasn’t immediately— it was three years after you’d left. I drove into town on Saturday mornings, worked all day, hung out with friends in the evening, then came here late Saturday night, and packed my stuff back in my car Sunday morning and headed back to college right after church. And it was only once every three weeks.” After a beat, she picked up the tray. “I think it helped them, having me here sometimes. It was like—” She crinkled her brow, like she was trying to figure out what she was trying to say.
“Like a piece of you was here.”
He let that news settle in as they walked back to his parents room and his dad took his medicine.
“So, son,” his dad croaked, then cleared his throat a couple of times. “How’s Treanor’s doing?”
Eli knew from having his own business that if he were asking for an update when he had to be away, he’d want specifics, so that’s what he’d prepared to give his dad. “The shop was busy almost constantly all weekend. I compared the numbers with two weekends ago, before they finished the construction on the freeway, and this weekend was up thirty percent. Today we had eighty percent of all summer rentals out at one point.”
His dad raised an eyebrow, impressed. It was gone in an instant, though. “You didn’t turn customers away because they didn’t get there before the time on the doors said we were closing, right?”
A buzzing sounded, and Whitney picked up her phone. “It’s my mom. I better take this, or she’ll assume I’m dead or being held hostage and alert the National Guard.”
Eli sighed as he watched her walk out of the room, and then turned back to his dad. “Don’t worry— I waited until the last person who possibly wanted to come into the store got helped before I closed up the shop.”
“What about the books? Did you do the books? You might be able to put off your books at your business for a week or even a month, but it’s important to do the books every single day at Treanor’s.”
“I’ve done them daily, Dad. And I’ve dropped off the deposit daily. I found your home email address listed in the contacts for the business one, and I’ve been emailing you the daily totals on everything. So once you’re feeling better, if you get curious about how things are, you can just log in.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, honey,” his mom said, patting his arm.