Page 3 of Finding Home

I’m back.Deboarding her flight, Elle sucked in the sleepy airport’s stale air. It was day one of thirty back in Western, New York.

Rows of closed coffee shops, restaurants, and gift shops greeted Elle as she made her way through the Buffalo-Niagara Airport. “This is what they mean by ghost town,” she mumbled to herself.

Even the car rental counter wouldn’t open until eight a.m. With a sigh, she ambled toward baggage claim. Uncle Pete had offered to pick her up, but she’d opted to rent a car. It made no sense for him to drive an hour to pick her up. However, that meant waiting for the next two hours until the rental counter opened.

“Eleanor!” A deep voice boomed when she emerged into the main terminal.

Elle winced. She’d been home for five minutes and was Eleanor, again. Shaking away the revulsion, she blinked at the tall stocky man with thinning blond hair.

“Uncle Pete?” she gaped.

He waved.

Of course, he’d come.Her mouth curved into a grin.

“Kiddo!”Pete wore a big smile along with theLife’s a BeachT-shirt she’d bought him during his last visit to Long Beach.

“I told you?—”

“Pish posh.” He scooped her up in his arms. “It’s not every daymyfavorite niece flies in.”

“I’m your only niece. This is sweet, but unnecessary.”

“Hertz doesn’t open until eight. Was I going to have myonlyniece sit in an airport for two hours? What kind of favorite uncle would I be?” He took her laptop bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“You’re my only uncle,” she teased, looping her arm with his and strolling to the escalator.

“One and only.” His blue eyes twinkled. “I figured I’d take you to breakfast, bring you back here to pick up your rental, then follow you to your Airbnb to inspect it.”

After Pete grabbed her two oversized suitcases at baggage claim, they drove to a restaurant down the road from the airport. It had been at least fifteen years since she’d eaten at a Cracker Barrel.

“What are you thinking?” Pete asked, his gaze not leaving his menu.

Elle hesitated, her eyes fixed on her own menu. To those that didn’t speak Pete, it would appear he was just asking what she wanted for breakfast. However, she was fluent and the unsaid beneath the spoken words volleyed within her.How are you feeling about being back? Have you thought about what I said about seeing your mom?

“Eggs of some sort,” she replied, choosing not to engage.

“I’m glad you didn’t go vegan living in California.” He peered over the menu top.

Her stare met his, a small smile curving her mouth. “I’ve experimented. I do love oat milk.”

“How do you milk an oat?” His chuckle eased the awkward tension between them.

Despite religious adherence to Saturday morning calls, it had been two years since she’d sat in the same room with him. Those visits had been on her territory in Long Beach. Playing tour guide for five days, once every two years, was easy. So were the almost scripted weekly chats about Elle’s work, Tobey and Janet, and whatever TV show each was binging.

That nagging voice in her head, which sounded far too like her high school PE teacher, hissed that she may only be a good-on-paper niece. A failure in the flesh.

She fiddled with the silver pendant of her starfish necklace. “So, Aunt Janet’s planned a BBQ for today?”

“Yep.” He patted her hand. “Speaking of the BBQ?—”

“Hey folks, what would you like?” The gray-haired server appeared, interrupting Uncle Pete mid-sentence.

“I’ll have the veggie omelet, crispy bacon, no toast, and can I get fruit instead of the potatoes?”

“Do you want a biscuit or pancake instead of toast?”

“Nope.”

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