Page 68 of Finding Home

“Hey.” She grinned.

“I like when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“You smile with your whole face.” He waved his hand in front of his face. “You have all these different smiles for different things. You have so many, but that one…that’s my favorite.”

“It’s my ‘Clayton’ smile.”

“Yeah,” he murmured. Deep lines of exhaustion were etched on his face as he approached the window seat.

Elle scooted up, allowing him to move in behind her. “Did you have fun?” she asked, as his arms snaked around her waist.

“I did. Mom was so happy.” He nuzzled her neck. “They can’t wait for you to come to dinner tomorrow.”

“I’m glad she enjoyed her birthday outing. I got your mom and sister gifts for tomorrow. Janet helped me make Magic Bars for your dad.”

“I see you’ve been busy.” He gestured to the assembled chair.

“Pete helped…um… He also helped me move my things over. So…”

“He’s going to show me his gun collection,”Clayton chuckled. Tiredness chugged through his tone like a car about to run out of gas.

“You’re so tired. You have been taking care of everyone today.” She twisted her head to look at him. “Let me take care of you. Let’s go to bed and I can read to you until you fall asleep.”

“Elle, I am…” He paused, cupping her face, his eyes tired but adoring. “…so ha…ha…ha…happy you are here,” he stuttered.

“When Pete found out I was moving my stuff over here, he asked me if I was happy.” She stroked his cheek. “I told him blissfully.”

He pressed his forehead to hers. “There’s that smile again.”

TWENTY-FIVE

“I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.”

~Jane Austen,Pride and Prejudice

Elle had never been inside Clayton’s childhood home, a two-story Victorian around the corner from Noah’s house and the village park. A cobblestone path led to an oversize porch with two white rocking chairs, a white wicker table with a potted plant between them. Elle clung to Clayton’s hand as Fitz skipped up the stairs. He dropped to his haunches on a blue welcome mat and gave a smallwoof. A large oval shaped window with vines and leaves etched into the glass made the door opaque.

Elle hesitated on the top step and gnawed her lower lip.

“Hey.”Clayton stroked his thumb under her mouth. “Don’t be nervous.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not meetingyourparents.”

“True, but I know for a fact they don’t have a gun collection like your uncle,” he teased. “Also, you’re not meeting them. They know you and already adore you.”

“Elle!” Natalie threw open the front door and dragged Elle close for a hug.

“Natalie.” Elle laughed, allowing the sprite-like Natalie to tug her into the house.

Clayton and Fitz followed.

“Please, call me Nat. I’m so happy you are here!” she gushed, yanking Elle in tight again.

“Natalie, show some decorum. Poor Elle, let her in,” Mrs. Owens’ melodic voice called from the living room where she sat beside a woman with gray-streaked brunette hair and ocean blue eyes. Elle knew she could only be Mrs. Wilson, Noah’s mom.

“This is for you,” Elle said, handing the small glittery gold gift bag to Nat. “This is for your mom. Is there a table for gifts or should I just give it to her?”

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