Love Starts with Elle(10)
“Besides, there will be other galleries, right? And the art scene in Dallas is excellent and exciting, a great place of opportunity.”
“Do you trust me? Trust God?”
The posture of his questions denied her any chance to say no.
Could she not trust God? Could she not trust the man she’d said yes to in marriage? Even if she truly didn’t, she wanted to trust.
“Yes, but promise me a Dallas gallery is in my future.”
He laughed. “I promise.”
“Elle?” Candace entered the room. “Angela has another appointment. We need to get going.”
Jeremiah kissed her. You can do this.
Elle stretched across the desk to pick up the pen. “Come in, Candace. I’m ready.”
To: CSweeney
From: Elle Garvey
Subject: I sold the gallery
Hey Caroline,
It’s done. Yesterday I signed the papers, selling GG Gallery to Angela Dooley. When Candace handed me the papers, I panicked. Thought my right arm was being cut off. But Jeremiah tenderly reminded me of our future and the life we’d have in Dallas.
He surprised me by flying in just to support me during the sale. Do I have a great man or what? When I asked him to promise me I could have a Dallas gallery, he did.
I don’t know, Caroline. Were you nervous moving to Barcelona? Listen to me, all weak and scared. Wasn’t I the one who said if you didn’t go to Barcelona, I would go in your place? Now I’m chicken to leave my mama. Sad about selling my gallery. What a difference a year makes.
Hard to believe I was the one running around town luring Beaufort’s single men into my Operation Wedding Day scheme. LOL. I kissed a lot of toads.
I liked my gallery life in little ole Beaufort. Do you know, C, we have fourteen galleries now? Fourteen. The Art Counsel is booming with ideas.
But I also love Jeremiah. He’s the one. I’m sure I can’t imagine all the great things God has for Jeremiah and me. I know you doubted my motives at first, but, Caroline, this is right. I know it.
Oh . . . did you get the picture of the bridesmaids’ dresses? I love the full skirt. Yours will be the same style, but instead of the latte/champagne color, I ordered it in mocha. My sisters tried on the dresses with Sara Beth wearing your color. It looked stunning.
Well, it’s late and I’m exhausted. I just arrived home from taking Jeremiah to the Savannah airport. He could only get away overnight. But I’m off to Dallas next week to house hunt. Jeremiah’s leaving all the wedding details to me, but he’s handling the honeymoon and insists we find a house before the wedding.
What’s new with you? How’s work with the European Donald Trump? Tell Carlos I said to treat you right. How are things with Mitch? Are y’all enduring the long-distance thing?
Okay, I’ve got to go to bed.
Love, Elle
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.