Love Starts with Elle(98)

“Carry on.”

Elle smiled though fresh tears fell, and a small white feather landed on the note, slid to the edge, and dropped into Elle’s lap.





To: Heath McCord

From: Elle Garvey

Subject: Miss Anna





Hey,

Pastor O’Neal visited me at the chapel this morning. Miss Anna died. How will I walk in her large, humble shoes, Heath? She spent forty years before the Lord. Forty. Doesn’t it make life seem so simple? Like the Westminster catechism. “Glorify God and enjoy Him forever.”

She left me a simple note that tapped deep emotions. “Carry on.” I saw another feather. I cried most of the day but am getting under control. Am going to Daddy and Mama’s tonight. Julianne’s wedding is two weeks away.

Heath, all this has made me realize I’m worried too much about my life, about being in control. Yeah, I pretend to be surrendered, but I’m not. I’m sorry for my attitude the other day. Sorry for pushing, sorry for comparing you to Jeremiah. It’s not fair and I know it. Please forgive me.

I gave my heart and fears, you, and our relationship to the Lord for the thousandth time. And I’ll do it again until I get it right.

I love you. I do. No strings, no conditions, just you and me.

Kiss Tracey-Love for me. Maybe she can call me on Skype this weekend.

Hope you’re not letting the law overshadow writing. Please, don’t. I’ve been reading the book. I love it. I see a bit of myself in Kelly. Hmmm. I’m crushing on Chet, and am fascinated by the history.

You’re a beautiful writer, Heath. I’ve never even seen the Aleutians, but I felt Chet’s journey.





Talk soon.

Yours, Elle





To: Elle Garvey

From: Heath McCord

Subject: Re: Miss Anna



Elle, I’m so sorry to hear about Miss Anna. My heart is grieving. I wish I were there with you. I’ll call you later tonight. Book is coming along. Finished chapter twenty. Your input helped a lot— especially with Kelly’s character. You have an artist’s eye, Elle, beyond painting . . .

There is a lot of you in Kelly. You were my muse.

I’m sorry too, Elle. We’re both learning to be in a relationship all over again. Well, I am. Ava was more devoted to her career than me at times, so staying late, giving up personal time was okay with her. I understand it’s not with you. Frankly, it’s not with me either.

I miss you. More than you know. I’ve played the Gladys Knights and the Pips CD so much TL is singing, “Neither one of us wants to be the first to say . . . Ooo” (She adds the “ooo. ooo.” Gets me laughing.)

Ah, I hear Rock coming down the hall.





I love you, Heath





DECEMBER


Staring out his twentieth-floor window, Heath watched snow fall from gray-bottomed clouds toward Lexington Avenue where miniscule people, all dressed in black, scurried from corner to corner, shop to shop.

Four more months of this gray and black Manhattan landscape, and he might be certifiable. The weather icon on his desktop told him Beaufort was fifty-two under a hazy blue sky.

“Bored? With your caseload?”

Rock’s voice turned him from the window. “Thinking.” Heath half smiled at his half truth. He was thinking, but not of his caseload.

He missed the lowcountry; he missed the scent of the marsh and spending his afternoons with Tracey-Love. He missed his mornings with Chet and Kelly. He missed stepping out to the screened porch with a cup of coffee and gazing toward Elle’s yellow studio window. In those moments, just the knowledge of her straightened his crooked, broken lines.

Rock sat in the club chair that had once reminded Heath of Ava but now reminded him of a life to which he no longer felt connected.

“When I was a young associate at Bernstein and Barrows,” Rock spoke with intent, measuring each word, “old man Bernstein would walk through the associates’ office, listening, stopping to address a case, asking us details about our assignments. He asked us what we knew about the senior partners, what we knew about each other.”

Heath listened. Rock had never told him this story before.

“I kept my eye out for him because I didn’t like being surprised. If I looked up from my files and he stood there, I wanted to at least be ready.”

“What was his purpose?”

“Find out which associates had the chops to make it. Who could remember details. Who paid attention to people.”

“Are you trying to tell me something? Am I slipping?”

“Yes. Your spark is gone, Heath. It’s not just Ava’s death anymore. You don’t want to be here.”

Heath exhaled, rocking his chair from side to side, hating the sensation of letting Rock down. “It’s only been a few months.”

Rock leaned forward, pressing his palms together. “You’re no good to me, Heath, if your heart’s not in it.”

He picked up the pen Ava had given him when he’d passed the bar. “The transition hasn’t been easy.”

The older man laughed. “Yeah, and the artist isn’t helping. Nor the book deal.”

“By the new year, I’ll be settled into my old routine.” He had to be if he wanted Elle to be in his life. Finding time for her had become a priority.