Page 20 of Finding Home

“Here’s to classy girls, who grew up to be badass broads.” They clinked their glasses.

“You look great. How are you?”

“I’m good. Work is good.” Elle shrugged.

“I know you’re good, but how are you, really?” Carmen leaned close, placing her hand on Elle’s.

“I hate that you know me so well.” Elle blew out a pent-up breath. “I’m not going to lie; it is weird being here. Like there are memories around every corner. Maybe it’s been too long or not long enough. I feel like a snow globe toggling between being shook and sitting still. It’s just…” Elle searched for the right word.

“Weird.”

“Weird,” she agreed.

“Can I address the Mommy Dearest elephant in the room? Will you be seeing her? How are you handling this?”

“Uncle Pete brokered a deal. He’s like Switzerland. We will remain on opposite sides of the room, for the wedding and for Pete’s birthday. She has been instructed to not cross the no-fly zone, to stay the fuck away from me.”

“Ooh, you said fuck.” Carmen lowered her voice as she uttered the vulgarity. “You mean business.”

The fidgety crossing and uncrossing of Elle’s legs was a poor attempt to self-soothe. Conversations about her mom were so much easier to have when the threatening thunderstorm of seeing her didn’t loom. It wasn’t just the guarantee of seeing herat Tobey’s wedding and Uncle Pete’s birthday but that each time she left the Little Red Barn, she played Mama Russian Roulette.

“Yes, I do,” Elle said, her tone slick as ice.

Carmen squeezed Elle’s wrist. “I know she hurt you, and I’ll never understand how you feel. But is there any part of you that misses her?”

“Colin Firth.” It came out almost as a croak.

It was their safe word. Beth had come up with it after seeingBridget Jones’ Diary. It was the signal that someone didn’t want to talk about something. No questions would be asked, they’d simply repeat the safe word and change the subject.

“Colin Firth,” Carmen sighed.

Elle offered a grateful smile.

“What are you wearing for Tobey and Jerome’s wedding? If your social media and this outfit are any indication, you will be the best dressed. It’s so funny to think that the girl who lived in hoodies and sneakers wears dresses and heels.”

“I even wear sexy lacy panties these days.” A prideful smile formed as Carmen’s eyes widened with mortification.

Elle startled at the masculine clearing of a throat behind her, confirming Carmen’s “clutched pearls” face was notatElle butforElle. She said a silent prayer that Clayton’s gray eyes wouldn’t meet hers as she turned around. Although maybe she wanted him to know about her sexy underwear.

Oh no!Turning, she did not find Clayton. Rather, Noah Wilson stood, hands in the pockets of his well-fitting jeans, bemusement glinting in his blue eyes. A smirking Mathew Fischer beside him.

Elle’s pulse thrummed at the sight of Noah. A red T-shirt stretched over a broad chest. Its short sleeves showed off his defined biceps and forearms.

God, what is it about forearms that gets me going?

Noah slipped into the seat beside her. “Eleanor, it’s been a long time. How are you?”

Light revulsion churned in Elle’s belly at the use of her birth name. To so many in Perry she was still Eleanor. Even to her family.

“I’ve been good. How about you?” she asked nonchalantly, trying to avoid Carmen’s “OMG!” gaze.

“Todd, can we get the usual?” Noah called to the bartender.

“Oh, did you order?—”

“The cheeseboard? Of course,” Carmen interrupted her husband with a sweet smile.

“Such a boss!” Mathew fist pumped the air.

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