Love Starts with Elle (5 page)

In the few days between selling the gallery and flying to Dallas, Elle packed up her cottage, storing boxes in the garage and the over-the-garage studio.

Mama’s Realtor friend, Marsha Downey, had rented the cottage starting mid-April and Elle wanted to be ready for the new tenant to move in.

Once she came home from Dallas, she had a feeling moving and wedding plans would consumer her.

“When we get back from the honeymoon, babe,” Jeremiah said to her on the phone last night before hanging up, “be ready to hit the ground running. The more settled we are in our new house before the wedding, the better.”

In fact, during their last few phone calls, his mantra of “Buy a house and get set up” had bordered on annoying. Elle teased him about it, calling him ‘The Repeater.’ “Hear you loud and clear, Jeremiah.”

Elle paused now, glancing around the cottage living room. Stirred up dust tangoed with southern sunbeams. The bookshelves running under the dining room windows were vacant, as were her desk and the linen closets. The furniture remained as part of the lease . . . what else?

Elle fanned herself with an old church bulletin she’d found among the books. The cottage air was hot and stale. She’d opened the windows in the morning to let in the cool, fresh air blowing off the creek, but the breeze had settled and the sun streaming through the windows was hot.

She’d just decided to close up and click on the air conditioner when Julianne came through the front door with Rio in tow.

“Wow, it’s hot.”

“The air is cranking.” Elle stooped down to embrace her niece. “Hey there, pretty girl.” To Julianne she asked, “You’re taking me to the airport tomorrow morning, right?”

“Yes, and Mama is picking you up when you come home. We’ve worked it out.” Julianne collapsed on the couch. “It’s an oven in here.”

“Looky, Auntie Elle.” Rio stuck her little behind up so Elle could see her pink backpack. “We went to Wals-Mart.”

“Wals-Mart? I’m jealous.” Elle turned Rio toward the hallway. “Run to your room. I have a surprise for you.”

Rio didn’t need to be told twice. At Auntie Elle’s, she had her own room. With her mama, she shared. And for the hundredth time, Elle thought Rio was possibly the most beautiful child she’d ever seen.

“What’d you get her?” Julianne propped her feet on Elle’s tired but sturdy coffee table.

“Just new a coloring book and crayons.”

“Can you keep Rio for me tonight?”

“Where are you going?” Elle shuffled through a pile of linens she’d pulled from the hall closet. She’d pack her new towels and washcloths, left the rest for the renter.

“Out.” Julianne shoved off the couch and headed for the kitchen.

“We just ate at McDonald’s. Got any fruit in here?”

“To relieve your fast-food guilt?” Elle heard the fridge open, followed by the hiss of a Coke can.

“Naturally.”

Rio ran to the living room with her new coloring book and a box of crayons.

“Color on the coffee table, Rio.” Watching her made Elle’s heart ache. In a few weeks, these impromptu visits would cease.

Julianne came in from the kitchen with a Diet Coke and a bowl of grapes. “Eat these, Rio, please.” She set the bowl on the table next to the coloring book, then plopped onto the leather couch just inside the shade. “So, can she stay?”

Elle leaned over the back of the couch propped on her elbows. “If you tell me where you’re going.”

“I told you. Out.”

“With whom? And to where?”

“Really, Elle, you ask too many questions.” Julianne popped a grape into her mouth. “Rio, good job on the picture. I love a solid purple cat.”

“Seems I remember someone asking me a lot of questions the other day,” Elle said. “Rio, remember to color between the lines like I showed you.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to color between the lines.” Julianne tossed a grape at her sister.

“Maybe if she learned to color between the lines first, then she’d be an expert at coloring
outside
the lines.” Elle arched her brow at her sister and tossed the grape back.

“I’m not telling you where I’m going. It’s my business.”

“Let’s see, wasn’t it you prying into my life just a few days ago? Now I can’t ask where you’re going if I keep your daughter overnight?” If Jules really needed an overnight sitter, she’d have no choice but to go to Mama or one of their other sisters. And if she hated Elle asking questions . . . ?

“I have a date.” Julianne seemed to think these four words sufficed as an answer.

“An overnight date?” Elle suspended “date” for emphasis.

“No, but we’re going to Charleston for a play. I’ll be home late. Besides, I have to pick you up at the crack-o-seven anyway. It just seemed easier.”

“Who is he?”

“A man.”

“Do we know him?” Elle motioned toward Rio with her eyes. “You can’t go around with just anyone.”

“If you don’t want to watch her, just say so.” Julianne fired off the couch for the kitchen. “Finish up, Rio, we’ve got to get going.”

Elle caved. “Jules, I’ll watch her, but what’s the harm in knowing where you’re going to be and with whom? Do I know this
date
?”

Julianne picked up her handbag from the coffee table. It rattled with keys and who knew what else. “Call my cell if you need me.” She stooped to kiss Rio. “Be good for Auntie Elle.”

Elle followed her out to the front porch. “Do not be late to pick me up for the airport.”

Julianne stopped at the bottom step. “You don’t have to marry him, Elle.”

“Stop hinting, Jules. What are you trying to say? You don’t like him, do you?”

“Yes, I like him. A lot. I don’t like him taking you away, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

Elle shook her head, turning for the house. “Good night, Jules. See you at seven, and don’t be late.”

FOUR

DALLAS

Thunderstorms rolled over the plains and delayed Elle’s fight to Dallas by three hours. When the wheels finally barked against the tarmac, she exhaled tension and subtly stretched the knots from her shoulders and legs.

The only thing that made this horrid day and dreadful flight worthwhile was the anticipation of seeing Jeremiah at the end of the Jetway. She’d covered all of her apprehension and worry with daydreams of the week.

House hunting, kissing, planning their future, kissing, meeting her new church family, kissing, watching old movies and eating pizza, kissing . . .

Given the all-clear by the flight attendant to use electronic devices, Elle fished her cell phone from her bag and dialed Jeremiah. As it rang, she gazed out the plane’s rain-splattered window. She couldn’t see much of Dallas from the airport’s gate, but just beyond the gray horizon a patch of blue was breaking through.

Jeremiah’s voicemail popped on. “You’ve reached Jeremiah Franklin, I’m unavailable at this time . . .”

Elle listened, rising from her seat, hunched forward under the overhead bin, waiting for the passengers in the forward rows to deplane.

“Hey, babe, it’s me. I’m here. Finally. I cannot wait to see you. This trip has been an ordeal.” She smiled “thanks” to the man who reached in the overhead and tugged down her bag. “Starting with Julianne being late to pick me up. Then some kid spilled chocolate milk down my back in Atlanta . . . You know what? I’m sorry, this can wait. See you in a few minutes.”

Elle tucked her phone into her bag as she strode down the Jet-way. Just before stepping into the gate area, she paused to fluff her hair, adjust her top and jeans, inhale, exhale, and prepare to see Jeremiah’s handsome face searching for hers.

But when she emerged, he wasn’t there.
Hmm
. She checked the gate next to hers. No Jeremiah. Ah, of course, he’d need a ticket to get past security. Elle joined the rest of the annoyed and testy passengers moving toward baggage claim.

Jeremiah wasn’t in baggage claim either. By the time the carousel’s warning beep sounded and the conveyor began its slow, squeaky rotation, he’d not called or appeared.

Elle scanned the waiting passengers, then glanced out the exit doors to see if he was waiting in his car, but there was no sign of him.

All right, Jeremiah, where are you?
Her stomach ached, anticipation mingling with frustration.

As her overstuffed brown suitcase appeared on the carousel, she reached for it. Her two smaller bags followed. She’d definitely over-packed. But she’d never been to Dallas before and she wasn’t sure of all she’d need. Would the days be warm and the evenings cold? Did they dress up for church or go casual with jeans and nice tops? Did Jeremiah have dinner plans for them? If so, should she dress for Texas BBQ or fine dining?

So far, she’d only heard plans for a Sunday-night potluck dinner and days upon days of house hunting. She hoped to find an old Texas ranch house rich with ambiance and cowboy heritage.

Dragging her luggage off to the side, she dialed Jeremiah again. Listening as his phone rang, she imagined a quiet evening, ordering pizza, watching a movie, and stealing kisses.

His phone bounced to voicemail again. “Hey, it’s me. I’m at the airport waiting. Call me.”

Elle carted her suitcases out to the curb and perched on top of the big bag to wait. Other passengers from her flight hopped into waiting cars or climbed aboard shuttle buses. The first few minutes, she watched folks come and go, but as time passed and the dew of the rainy day seeped into her skin, Elle grew angry and impatient.

Shivering, she dialed Jeremiah, clamping her sweater closed with her chilled fingers. Voicemail. She clapped her phone closed as a Texas-sized blue word slipped off the end of her tongue.

Jeremiah pulled into DFW forty minutes late. Elle was cold, tired, and hungry. And angry. Her first night in Dallas and they fought— from the moment he put her luggage in the trunk to the moment he pulled into Steak n Shake for a quick bite.

“What’ll you have?” The waitress glanced between them, hands on her waist.

“I’ll have a burger and fries with a large chocolate shake.” Elle’s bracelets clattered against the table when she snapped her menu closed.

“I’ll have the same,” Jeremiah said, calm and collected, making Elle feel like a loon for being upset.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t call or text.” Elle tore at the edge of her napkin. If she looked at Jeremiah, she’d burst into tears. And frankly, she didn’t have the energy for it.

“Babe, what do you want me to do? I was late. I’m sorry. We have a Wednesday-night leaders meeting and it went long. My phone was supposed to be set on vibrate, but I’d turned it off somehow.”

“Fine, Jer, I understand long meetings and phones turned off, but didn’t you even think to check the time. It makes me feel like you weren’t anticipating my visit at all. I thought of you all day.”

“Of course I anticipated you coming. I’ve thought of you being here since we decided on the dates. Don’t make it sound like I dissed you on purpose. But as the leader, I can’t just get up and walk out in the middle of an important discussion.”

“I see, so if you’re in a meeting and I call to say, ‘Honey, my water just broke, the baby’s coming,’ I can only hope you’re not leading an important meeting?”

“Elle, that’s not fair. I can’t believe—”

“No, it’s not fair. Neither is you letting me sit there alone without even thinking to call. Why did you even go to the meeting? If I’d arrived on time, what were your plans for me?” The debate exhausted her.

“Your host family, the Farmers, were going to take you to dinner.” Jeremiah slipped from his side of the booth into Elle’s. “Babe, come on, let’s not fight. Sets a bad tone for the week.”

His kiss cooled her ire. “Please, Jeremiah, don’t make me feel like an afterthought. Ministry is important, yes. Any career takes a certain level of commitment. But not at the expense of our relationship.”

He wrapped his fingers with hers. “You are far from an afterthought, Elle.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I guess it feels like it tonight.”

“Let’s forget tonight, then. Start fresh in the morning. We’ll go out to a nice brunch, see a little of Dallas.”

Elle lifted her eyes to his, kissing him. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”