Page 76 of Finding Home

Elle preened a bit. “Thank you. I’m very proud of that program.We’re partnering with Indian Health to support Indigenous Communities as well. I’d like to expand it to other rural areas across the country,”Elle said, pulling out her phone.“I know you need to get out there for your speech, but if you’re open, I’d love to set a time to speak to you.I read an article in theNew Yorkerabout your desire to move yourfoundation toward service provision, as well as retaining the research you fund.”

“You know what…”Magda said, placing her hands on her hips.“…I’m the boss. This is my fundraiser. They can wait an extra ten minutes. Give me your pitch.”

Elle glided back to her table with a massive smile on her lips and a meeting with Magda on Monday to discuss a potential partnership between the Geneva Breast Cancer Foundation and Sloan-Whitney.Yes, boss bitch!

“You look happy,” Clayton commented as she sat at the table.

“I am.” She leaned and kissed him, not caring that her boss sat a foot away.

At the end of the night, Elle and Clayton walked, hands clasped along the red and gold carpeted hall leading to the elevators.Music waltzed into the long corridor from the large ballroom.Streams of blue and white light from the ballroom crisscrossed the ceiling outside its entrance. Clayton halted mid-step, his eyes drifting to the open doors of the ballroom, causing Elle to stop short.The first bars of “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran played.

With a grin, Clayton turned to Elle. “Our song.” It had been the song they’d danced to at the wedding.

Ours?Her smile couldn’t get bigger. Maybe she’d let herself swim in the waters of “Ours” even if only in the shallow end.

“Dance with me?”Clayton asked, holding her hand against his heart.

“Here?” Elle’s eyes swept the hallway lined with an assortment of red sofas, chairs, and potted plants.

“Yes.”He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her in close.

“Ok,” she whispered.

Wrapping her arms around his nape, she moved in tandem with him, their eyes tethered.The small wall sconces bathed them in soft light.

The gentle thump of her heart accompanied Clayton’s husky voice as he sang. Each word, each lyric, seemed a secret message from his heart to hers. Closing her eyes, she drowned in the moment. The entire world faded away. In that moment, despite the self-doubts and flaws or, maybe, because of them, Elle felt perfect.

TWENTY-NINE

“It’s such a happiness when good people get together.”

~Jane Austen,Emma

As the plane touched down at the Buffalo-Niagara Airport, Elle’s phone pinged with an incoming message from Braedon, who was just checking in, despite it being only six a.m., in California.

Beside her, Clayton was also checking his phone as they taxied to the gate, his free hand casually caressing her arm. Earlier that morning as they lay in bed, their naked limbs tangled, he felt like hers.The question remained, was she his?She wasn’t questioning him wanting to be with her. That was clear, but that was the here and now.Belonging to one another was something entirely different, it spoke of a tomorrow.All the tomorrows, not just the todays.

Long distance worked, but only if someone was willing to leave their life.Elle couldn’t imagine uprooting Clayton, taking him from his corner of the world to inhabit hers.Clayton didn’t just live in Perry; he was its heartbeat.She’d never ask him togive that up or take him away from everyone who depended on him. He may be hers, but not hers to take.

Elle slipped her phone into the pocket of her denim jacket as Clayton stepped into the aisle to pull down their luggage.Since she wasn’t working, she dressed more casually for the flight, wearing a pair of skinny black capris, a purple halter, denim jacket, and black flip flops.Clayton was in clinic dress, wearing a pair of tan slacks and a blue button up, his sleeves rolled up.Tease.

The plan was to drive to the farmhouse and drop Elle and their luggage off before he went to the clinic.She volunteered to unpack, toss the laundry in, and pick up Fitz at Clayton’s parents’ house.

The Owens Family Clinic was open six days a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays they had extended lunch breaks, but stayed open until seven p.m.It allowed the staff time to run errands and decompress on the longer days. It also gave Dr. Owens time to visit any patients admitted to the county hospital in Warsaw or the area nursing homes.

Clayton headed to the clinic soon after they arrived back at the farmhouse. Elle unpacked and tossed their dirty clothes into the wash.While putting things away, she looked at the picture she had bought him the previous week.She still hadn’t given it to him.Running her fingers over the starfish bangle he gave her in Boston, she wondered when the right time would be to give it to him. Ajust becausegift was always nice, but this felt more special.The picture of the train trellis over the gorge signified something important for each of them.It needed an important occasion to be given. When the moment arrived, she’d know.

She walked up the path to the Owens’ yellow Victorian, a box of cookies from the Farmer’s Wife in her hand.Climbing the steps, a tall shadow appeared through the leaf-engraved windowof the front door.Elle braced herself.Likely it would be a brief interaction, like a prisoner exchange between feuding nations.

Cookies for my dog.Wait…Clayton’s dog.Double Wait…We’re Fitz’s.

The door opened, revealing Dr. Owens in a yellow short-sleeve shirt with an evergreen bow tie. They had an awkward stare-down until Elle broke the standoff.

“I brought cookies.” She held up the pink pastry box.

“Thank you. Come in,”he said, stepping aside to let her enter. “Heidi had to run an errand, so I volunteered to hang with Fitz until you arrived.”It felt strange to hear the bow tie-wearing Dr. Owens use the phrase “hang with.”

“Oh.” Elle looked around for Fitz.

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