Page 38 of Finding Home

“Now let’s get this party going again. I think it’s getting hot in here.” The DJ hyped as Nelly bounced from the speakers.

Elle raised her head. Clayton still held her, pressed against him, staring at her. The beat of the new song interrupted, and they realized at almost the same time their position was no longer fitting. Elle slipped her hands from his neck to her sides as he stepped back a few inches, but his hands remained on her waist.

“Elle…” he started.

“Clayton!”A grinning Jerome yelled as he hurried to them.

“What’s up?” He dropped his hands but kept his focus on Elle.

“Lady Elle.” Jerome gave her a courtly bow.

Elle?A quiet laugh fell out of her. Clearly Aunt Janet had set up the bat signal to call her Elle.

“Sorry to steal Clayton, but I need my best man for a bit.”

“I was about to take a break anyway.” Elle patted Jerome’s arm and then strode off the dance floor.

“Elle!”

She pivoted at Clayton’s voice.

“When I’m done with this, can I buy you that free drink?” Hands in pocket, he flashed a lopsided grin.

“You better.” She winked, turning to sashay away. It was a little sassy, but a lady likes a man’s gaze on her backside sometimes. Especially therightman.

She went back to the table, scooped up her silver clutch, and ducked out of the tent to what Uncle Pete had dubbed the fancy crappers.

Pete had been obsessed with these impressive portable restrooms. For weeks he’d blathered on about them during their weekly calls. Taking in the row of stalls, piped in music, the fresh floral scent, and a basket overflowing with an array of fancy toiletries, Elle got it.

“These are fancy.” Helping herself to one of the luxurious hand soaps, she smiled. “Tres chic.”

Humming along with Jan Arden, she washed her hands. Her eyes raised at thecreakof the door opening. A pair of familiar blue eyes and darkened blonde curls filled the mirror in front of her.

Elle’s breath grew ragged, and her pulse sped as if coming face-to-face with a shark in the deep.

A firm line was fixed on her mother’s face; her gaze stony. Tiny wrinkles lined the corner of her eyes. Sadness still swam in their depths but was shaded with something different.Remorse?

Sucking in deep breaths, Elle spun to confront her past. There she was, not a phantom, not a memory, and not an image in the mirror, but her mother in the flesh. That ball of dread she’d fought all day inflated.

No words. No smile. No reaching hands. Mom just shrugged and walked into a stall. The lock sliding into place knocked the wind out of Elle with its indifference.

With her hands still damp, Elle clutched her handbag and retreated outside. The celebratory sounds of the wedding behind her were trumped by her shallow gasps. Going back wasn’t an option, because she was there.Mom is fucking here.

The last few hours of clinked glasses, swaying hips, stolen glances with Clayton, were a mere distraction lulling her into false safety.

“Elle,”Clayton rasped, his hands holding her trembling shoulders, eyes clouded with concern.

When did Clayton come?She blinked.

“Take me home.” she croaked as he tucked her against his chest.

Ten minutes later, parked in front of the Little Red Barn, Elle slumped against Clayton’s shoulder. The emotions drizzled; her tears screamed for release. She rubbed a hand over her tight chest as if the mere act would erase the locked away feelings.

“When Evan died,” Clayton broke the silence, “It was hard for me to talk about it and, at times, it still is. Noah reminded me I’d made him talk about what happened during his second tour in Iraq and that it helped. So, when I need to talk, I talk. When I can’t, I don’t.” In a soothing caress, his fingers moved from her hair to her arms. “I’m not telling you what to do, just saying if you need to talk, I’m here. I’m in it with you.”

She lifted her gaze to capture his, seeking his strength as cracks formed in the well-constructed dam holding everything in.Let it break.

She sat up, pulling out of his hold, and scooted over a few inches, her eyes focused on the past. “The last time I saw my mom was winter break my freshman year of college. We didn’t spend much time together because she was either working orwith Jamie, her boyfriend.” Her voice broke. She shook her head and carried on. “Jamie taunted me about my weight saying I had a pretty face, if only I’d lose fifty pounds, I’d be attractive. But he made Mom happy, so I said nothing.”

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