Page 66 of Finding Home

“Do you remember my niece? You two were inseparable as little girls.”

“Eleanor?” Summer’s tone was a mix of happy and regretful. “Gosh, I heard you were in town.”

“Elle is visiting us for a few weeks from California.”

“That’s great you could stay so long. I heard you were an executive for a hospital out there. Must be hard to get that amount of time off.”

Aunt Janet beamed. “Notahospital.”

Elle cleared her throat, cutting off Janet’s attempted bragging, “I’m with Sloan-Whitney at their national headquarters.” She didn’t add that she was their youngest and first female senior executive in the company’s fifty-two-yearhistory, that hundreds of staff ultimately reported up to her, and that she was traveling this coming week to represent Sloan-Whitney at a breast cancer fundraiser. Did she want to brag? Well, yeah. Summer had been Elle’s Caroline Bingley after all, but she’d been a friend before…

“That’s great.” Summer said.

“Thanks. Summer, I love that you went back to your chestnut hair. It was always really pretty on you. I used to be envious of your hair when we were little.” Elle smiled, channeling her inner Jane Bennet.

The woman standing in front of her was so different than the girl who had once tossed cruel jabs. Brown eyes that used to assess and dismiss with a glance, now shifted and turned down. While still pretty, Summer looked beat down, like the years since she was the Caroline Bingley of their story had stomped away her spirit.

“That’s sweet of you.”Summer blushed, touching the end of her ponytail. “I should get back in there. Do you need anything else?”

“No, thanks.”

Summer hurried away, stopping at the door into the restaurant and flashing a tentative smile back at Elle.

“You’re a good girl.” Janet patted Elle’s hand. “You make me so proud to call you mine.”

“If you cry, I will not let you go shopping with me on Monday,” Elle warned.

Janet promptly chucked her napkin at her.

After lunch, while Janet waited outside with Fitz, Elle ran into a little boutique to pick up a gift for Mrs. Owens’ birthday, a small box styled like a hope chest and an assortment of flower-themed earrings. She purchased an extra pair of earrings for Natalie. It wasn’t necessary to get a gift for Clayton’s entirefamily, but the sparkling rose teardrop earrings would likely be coveted by the glitter-prone Natalie.

While paying for her purchases, a framed photograph of the train trellis over the Letchworth gorge caught Elle’s eye. Had it really been just five days since she’d stood there with Clayton? It felt like a lifetime. She bought the photo to give to Clayton, not Sunday but someday.

Two hours later, Pete watched baseball from his seat on the floor, because Lt. Scout and Fitz had commandeered the couch. Both dogs were snoring. Elle snapped a picture texting Tobey, Jerome, and Clayton. There had been a group thread with the four of them since Thursday, when Janet alerted her sons that their best man was “banging” Elle. She actually put that in the text. Tobey sent a screenshot of her text to Clayton and Elle with many, many question marks.

“So, these need to bake for thirty minutes,” Janet directed as Elle put the pan of Magic Bars, Dr. Owen’s favorite, in the oven.

The front of Pete and Janet’s house had a panoramic view allowing approaching vehicles from the road to easily be spotted. A red Prius eased along the lane. The lighthearted family atmosphere shifted to tense as Janet and Pete’s gazes met. A look of fearful recognition passed between them.

“Be right back,” Pete said, smile tight as he struggled up from the floor.

Lt. Scout and Fitz lifted their heads.

“Stay, boys,” he commanded as he shuffled outside.

Five minutes later, Pete returned, reporting the driver was lost. The man was a terrible liar. The person driving the red Prius wasn’t lost. It was her mom.

With a sigh, Pete suggested they walk the dogs. As a kid, Elle would ride bikes with Tobey down the tree-lined lane.

Might as well get this over with. “So, she has a red Prius,” Elle said.

“Yes.” Pete’s face was pinched. “I think it’s Pastor Danny’s influence.”

“Pastor Danny?”Elle’s eyebrows raised.

“Her boyfriend.”

“She’s dating a preacher?” Elle’s gasped, then gaped. Both reactions seemed appropriate.

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