Love Starts with Elle(41)

Elle waved off her sentiment. “Thanks, Mrs. Winters, but I’m moving on.”

The older woman jogged in place, glimpsing at Heath. “I see.

Good for you.”

“Oh no.” Elle patted Heath’s arm. “This is my neighbor, Heath.”

“Nice to meet you.” Mrs. Winters bobbed her head, arms still pumping, legs marching.

“I meant I’m moving on with my life, opening a new gallery. I’ll e-mail you the details.”

“Oh, just the gallery. Too bad. But I’ll look forward to it.” She jogged off.

Heath laughed. “She’s a trip.”

“Yes, ever since I’ve known her, which is my whole life.” Elle gave the swing a big push. Rio hollered higher. Tracey-Love gripped the bench arm with white knuckles. “Okay, how’d you manage to give Freddy his bike back?”

“How do you know I did?”

Elle caught his shifting gaze. “Just do.”

“Freddy’s bike was in my basement so I came up with a plan,”

Heath began. “Rat myself out to my dad and tell the guys he discovered it in the basement, recognized it as Freddy’s, and took it over to him.”

Elle approved. “Clever and quite honest, McCord. How’d it go?”

“Dad grounded me, which eased my guilt and kept me away from the guys for two weeks. Then walked with me over to Freddy’s to return the bike and apologize, not just to him, but in front of the whole family.”

“Your dad was a character-matters man, I take it.”

“Still is. Not only did I learn a lesson about stealing and hurting others, but I saw firsthand how it robs people of their dignity. Even kids like Freddy. When he got the bike back, it was like his soul returned. He was somebody again, free to explore the world on two wheels. I think he rode that bike until our sophomore year. Later he told me how he’d saved his own money for years to buy that bike. And, when I apologized in front of his family, it humbled me. Cool Heath screwed up, and dorky Freddy was vindicated, even to his family. They looked at him differently. Am I explaining this right?”

“Yeah.” Elle gave the swing another push. “It’s how I felt when Jeremiah dumped me. The handsome preacher leaving the unemployed, unfocused artist.”

“More like the beautiful, compassionate artist got rid of a selfish man.”

Elle liked his point of view. “I’ll keep telling myself your version. So, what happened to Freddy?”

“We became good friends in high school. He trimmed down but bulked up, played football, got contacts and braces, turned out to be this stellar student athlete with an Adonis-like face and build. Our senior year, he escorted the homecoming queen to the dance. Married her six years later. Several times he told me how much returning his bike was a pivotal moment in his life.”

Elle lingered in the mood of the story for a moment. “Never know, do you?”

Tracey-Love reached up for Heath. She’d had enough of Rio’s wild swing ride. “Never know what?” he asked.

Elle helped Rio off the swing. “When a miracle might show up on your doorstep. When some desperate situation becomes the most amazing opportunity.”

“No, you never do.” His response felt personal. Intimate.

She swallowed the goofy rise of emotion in her chest and reached for Rio’s hand. “So, who wants ice cream?”



At 1:00 a.m., Elle lay on the futon staring into the darkness, her evening with Heath and the resonance of Freddy’s story replaying in her mind.

If there could be a silver lining to her breakup with Jeremiah, maybe it was Heath. One moment he had her laughing so hard her sides almost split, the next had her eyes watering over the wounds of a boy she’d never met.

Heath had a way of making Elle feel like she could do whatever she wanted. It unnerved her that she wanted to know him more. After a foiled Operation Wedding Day scheme followed by the huge debacle of Dr. Franklin, she needed a break from romance.

Heath had driven Elle and Rio home after eating cones from Southern Sweets. When Julianne came by later, Elle gave her the dickens for rushing out of the Frogmore Café with Jess to attend a faux meeting. “What were you thinking?”

“Hey, just giving you a fresh chance at love.”

“Fresh chance? Forget it, the kitchen is closed.”

Julianne tried to argue with her, but Elle shoved her out the door so she could shower and slipped into her pajamas. Curling up on the futon, she formulated a new romantic motto based on the carefree song “Que Sera, Sera.” “Whatever will be, will be.” Sing it, Doris Day.

Next she worked on a gallery business plan so when Leslie called with a lease agreement, she’d be ready to go. Elle decided to run it by Candace for review.

At eleven, she clicked off the light and dozed for few minutes, but between the gallery possibility and the evening with Heath, she couldn’t sleep.

One fifteen a.m. Elle kicked off the covers, realizing the quiet, hot studio was missing the hum of the window AC unit. Probably frozen again. Clicking on the light, she shoved open the windows and clicked on the fans.

Wandering around the studio, Elle thought if she lived in the cottage, she’d grab the remote and click on the TV. Back on the futon, she lay on top of the quilt and tried to sleep again to the hum of the fan. Her thoughts quieted and wandered like a slow ride on the river . . .