A Thousand Letters(20)

"Elliot," I said, and her eyes darted to me at the sound of her name just as my heart stopped at the feel of it on my lips. "This is my cousin, Louisa."

Lou gave me a little look, smiling. "By marriage," she added, propping the dish on her hip to free her hand, which she extended. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," Elliot echoed meekly.

Lou smiled. "I'll just be a second. Wade, did you want to help me out?"

Elliot and I glanced at each other and away just as fast. "Sure," I answered, following her into the kitchen.

She headed straight for the oven and turned it on, setting the casserole dish on the counter as I wondered exactly what I could help with. So I leaned on the counter and watched her, feeling useless and uncomfortable.

"I really am so sorry, Wade."

I shifted and folded my arms. "Thanks."

Her eyes were full of pity. "I know I haven't always been part of the family, but Dad and I have always felt like it, thanks to Rick."

I nodded, not sure what I was supposed to say.

"Anyway," she continued, turning for the cabinets next to me. "We're here for you guys. Just let us know what we can do to help. You've got my number, so call whenever. I mean it." She picked up a stack of plates and wobbled a little — I was at her side in a flash, steadying her. Her cheeks flushed as she looked up at me, smiling. "Gosh, thanks, Wade. I'm such a klutz."

"No problem."

I took the plates and turned, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. In part because she was looking at me like she'd wanted me to kiss her. The thought was another in a myriad of events and feelings that I couldn't find a way to process.

Aunt Jeannie had married her dad after I left, so I didn't know Lou all that well, but from the first time I'd met her, she'd had a thing for me. She was always flirting, and though she wasn't unpleasant at all — in fact, she was beautiful — I'd never even considered her. That didn't stop her from trying.

The oven beeped, and she practically bounced to the casserole, popped it into the oven, and set the timer for twenty minutes.

"This'll be ready in a jiffy," she said with a smile. "I can't leave until you're fed and taken care of. Come sit down, take a break. This can't be easy on you."

I took a breath and let it out, taking a seat, not comforted by her endeavor to 'take care' of me. But I didn't think she'd take no for an answer, and I found myself without the energy or means to argue. She was trying to help, and the alternative was trying to avoid Elliot. The kitchen suddenly seemed as good a place as any to do just that.

Lou smiled and popped open the fridge, returning with a beer that she expertly popped the top of before handing it over, looking pleased.

"So, tell me what's been up with you? My God, I feel like I haven't seen you in years, but it was just Christmas-before-last, right?"

I took a long pull of my beer and nodded. "I wasn't here very long."

"Right, just dinner on Christmas Eve and then Christmas morning?"

"Yeah. I had to get back, but at least I didn't miss Uncle Jerry's drunken Bing Crosby karaoke."

She laughed. "The best part was the dried eggnog on his crotch. He looked like he'd been partying at a strip club instead of a family holiday dinner."

I relaxed a little, laughing at the memory of old Jerry swaying, eyes glassy, with a microphone in his hand and a crusty white stain next to his zipper. She laughed too, leaning on the island on her forearms, which incidentally put a little slice of tasteful cleavage in my line of sight.

I kept my eyes on hers, hoping I didn't look encouraging.

"I wish you could have stayed longer," she continued. "My Granny Eugenia played the ukulele Christmas night, and we had a repeat Jerry performance, though less drunk and somehow more lewd."

I chuckled. "Had to get back."

"You don't get much time off, do you?"

I took another drink to give myself a second to cultivate my answer. I had plenty of time off, and I could have taken more, if I'd wanted. I just didn't. It was easier that way, to bury myself in work, in my other life, my easy life where I knew where to be, when to be there, and what to wear. I didn't have to decide. I could just be, and that life, that new life was what I'd devoted myself to for seven years. The old life seemed like a dream most days, a story about a man who didn't exist anymore.

I set the beer on the counter and twisted it in a circle. "Nah, you know how it is. Things are busy, and flying home, especially when I'm overseas, isn't always an option."

"That's too bad. We miss you when you're not here."

I took a drink, hoping she wouldn't wait for an answer. She didn't.

"So, how's Germany been?"

"Great. You know, lots of castles." I didn't want to talk to her, but she didn't seem to pick up on it, no matter how perfunctory I was. She just smiled and kept firing off questions like I was the most interesting man in the world. My stomach soured.

"Is it easy to get around Europe?" she asked.

"Most everything is just a train ride away."

"Where all have you been?"

I shrugged. "All over. Italy, Greece, Spain, Switzerland, Belgium, France."