Hometown Series Box Set

by Kirsten Fullmer

  The man arched an eyebrow and Lizzie hesitated. Elliot gave her a tiny push and she stepped forward with her hand extended. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “I met Lizzie in Smithville,” Elliot explained, beaming down at her. “She manages the spa we designed for Justin.”

  Elliot’s father shook Lizzie’s hand, then tucked his hands in his trouser pockets and rocked back on his heels, the exact way his son did, Lizzie noted.

  “What brings you to town this morning, Lizzie?” the aloof man asked, his voice as unbending as his persona.

  She stumbled backward on her heels to Elliot’s side, glancing up at his face. “I’m just here for moral support,” she said with an encouraging grin, then once again turned her attention to the Elliot Sr.

  “I see,” he said, his eyebrow arched as his son pulled the girl to his side. He turned to his son. “Shall we talk in my office?” Extending his hand toward the hall, he left no room for an opposing answer.

  Elliot headed toward the door but Lizzie held back, causing him to turn to her in question.

  “You go, I’ll wait here,” she assured him, her eyes darting to his father, then back to Elliot.

  “Nonsense,” Elliot’s father thundered. “We’ll all talk.”

  Her face drained of all color, and Lizzie glanced at Elliot for support, but he placed his hand on the small of her back to propel her forward.

  The office workers’ conversations ceased as father, son, and Lizzie passed, all heads turning to follow the group as they paraded single-file toward the CEO’s office.

  When they approached Elliot Senior’s door, the secretary seated outside his office jolted to her feet, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry, Mr. Reynolds, I didn’t have a meeting on the schedule.”

  Senior dismissed her with an irritated wave and marched into his office. Elliot offered the woman an apologetic smile, wishing he knew her name. Lizzie nodded to the woman, then followed behind Elliot, her face pale.

  Elliot’s father strode across the grand office filled with heavy classic furniture. He circled his massive oak desk and took a seat, then propped his elbows on the desktop and tapped his fingertips together as he waited for Lizzie and his son to take a seat across from him. Once they were settled, he gave them each the once-over, fully aware that his perusal made them uncomfortable. “You were gone longer than expected,” he finally said to Elliot.

  “Yes, sir.”

  His fingertips tapped together, steeple-style. “How is Justin?”

  “He’s well. I met his wife.”

  His father leaned back in his chair. “What is she like?”

  Elliot glanced at Lizzie, then back at his father. “She’s talented and bright. Engaging. Justin seems very happy with her.”

  The two men gazed at each other across the desk, Elliot looking calm and intent, his father stone-faced and impenetrable. Just as the older man shifted in his seat, ready to continue the conversation, Elliot spoke. “They’re expecting a baby.”

  Lizzie was aware that Elliot’s timing had been perfect to catch his father off guard for a fraction of a second, but the man immediately covered his surprise by straightening the keyboard on his desk. “Yes, well, I suppose that happens…”

  Elliot grinned and crossed his loafer over one knee.

  “Now then, about the new spa,” his father continued to Elliot. “Did it open on time as expected?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  The older man scowled at Lizzie, as if he were looking over reading glasses. “I assume the spa can run without its manager?”

  She bobbed a nod, unwilling to tell him that she’d run out that morning without explanation.

  “And the design,” Senior continued, “was it up to par?”

  “Yes, sir,” Elliot answered without reserve.

  Senior stood to pace, his hands clasped behind his back. “Then what took you so long?”

  The man had a way of creating a vantage point of superiority, Lizzie noticed, intrigued to see how Elliot would respond.

  Elliot turned to gaze out the window, his expression calm and confident. “Justin and I talked over some business options, did a little poking around.”

  “Is that so?” Senior boomed, causing Lizzie to flinch. “You don’t have enough work here to keep you busy?”

  Dropping his foot to the floor, Elliot serenely leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands and snuck a wink at Lizzie. “No, sir,” Elliot said quietly, almost indiscernibly. “Just always on the lookout for a good project, that’s all.”

  From where he stood, Senior could no longer see Elliot’s face, let alone hear him, forcing the man to return to sit at his desk. “What kind of project?”

  Elliot stayed silent until his father was back at his desk, on a level playing field. Once he was no longer at a disadvantage, Elliot shifted in his chair and leaned back to cross one knee casually over the other.

  Silence hung over the meeting, causing Lizzie to feel awkward and unsure as she stared at her lap. The man across the desk intimidated her, and she realized that her mother wasn’t so bad after all. Elliot had obviously learned to cope with the serious man. No wonder he wasn’t daunted by her mother.

  Finally, Elliot spoke. “Justin and I have put together a modular project, perfect for the rural areas of Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Maryland.”

  Lizzie’s head snapped up.

  Elliot’s eyes sparkled, enjoying her surprise, daring her to speak up. Lizzie glanced from Elliot to his father and back, her pulse picking up speed.

  Senior leaned over his desk, contemplating his son’s words. “What do you mean, modular?”

  “Community centers,” Elliot said. “Many rural towns have nowhere to gather. Justin and I came up with some designs that should be affordable for small communities, and the structures can be built on a modular basis, pay-as-you-go construction.”

  Senior leaned back in his chair, his brow knit in thought. “Continue…”

  Elliot gestured with his hand. “Some communities need a meeting hall, some an animal shelter, others a library; some need all three. They can purchase the structure they need, and it can grow as the community grows. I have some preliminary drawings and numbers in my office.”

  Propping his elbows on the arms of his chair, Elliot’s father tapped his fingertips together. “What type of construction are you considering?”

  Elliot straightened his shoulders, bracing himself. “We’ve been talking about environmentally friendly design, you know, recycled components and sustainable construction… perhaps rehabbing shipping containers…”

  Lizzie watched the conversation like a tennis match, her excitement building.

  “Shipping containers!” Senior roared, grasping the arms of his chair.

  With a laugh, Elliot nodded. “Yes, Father, shipping containers, it’s very popular…and affordable.”

  Senior snorted. “I have been hearing some such nonsense, but just who will head up this outlandish enterprise?”

  Lizzie couldn’t help but lean forward in her seat, thoughts tripping over themselves as they raced through her mind. Elliot working in Smithville with Justin? That must be what he’d been trying to tell her, but she hadn’t given him a chance. Holding her breath, she turned to Elliot, her future with him hanging in the balance.

  “I will, Father,” he said calmly. “Justin and me. I’ll handle design and he’ll head up construction.”

  All the breath that had been captured in Lizzie’s lungs escaped in a rushing gasp. Her eyes hesitantly left Elliot and scanned across the desk toward Senior, expectant and apprehensive about his response.

  A muscle beside the older man’s eye twitched as he stared at his son, as if a tug of war was being battled between him and Elliot across the ageless desk. Finally, he grabbed the arms of his chair. “Elliot, you’ve worked for this firm how many years?”

  “Seven, sir.”

  Senior hesitated, a frown darkening his expression. “You’ve done
everything we’ve asked of you, but…”

  Clenching her fists in her lap, Lizzie waited. She had no doubt that Elliot would find a way to fulfill his plans with or without his father but starting from scratch would be much more difficult. And take time.

  “…but you’ve never spearheaded anything,” the older man continued.

  Elliot nodded. “True enough.”

  Senior shook his head. “Shipping containers.”

  Apparently unruffled, Elliot nodded again, his face as calm as his father’s was emotionless.

  “Son,” Senior sighed, his expression grim, “I’d about given up hope that you’d find a project to spark your passion.”

  Lizzie’s eyes flew back and forth between father and son, unsure she understood, waiting for some clue as to what was happening.

  Elliot stood, offering Lizzie a hand.

  Still waiting for an answer, Lizzie balked, her eyes wide with question, but she put her hand in Elliot’s.

  With a laugh he pulled her to her feet and circled an arm around her waist. With his eyes shining, he grinned down at Lizzie. “Consider my passion sparked.”

  Lizzie’s heart melted, causing a lump to form in her throat.

  Senior stood to walk around the desk, a grin breaking over his face as he stretched out his hand toward Lizzie. “Thanks for coming to our meeting, Lizzie. I hope to see you again soon.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said with a shy smile. “I hope you will too.”

  Taking her by the hand, Elliot led Lizzie out the door and back to his office. Once inside, he closed the door and leaned against it.

  Her eyes bright with emotion, Lizzie propped her hip against his desk and folded her arms. “You were planning to come back to Smithville all along, weren’t you?”

  He grinned.

  “But I wouldn’t listen.”

  He took one step toward her.

  “Are you sure you’ll like living in the country?” she asked as he took another step closer.

  He shrugged. “Seems possible that I’ll adjust.”

  Meeting his eye, she dealt one last blow. “And my mother?”

  Now standing so close to Lizzie that she had to cock back her head, he reached up to twist a curl around his finger. “Too bad for her, I’m taken,” he whispered.

  He caressed the back of his fingers up and down her arm, sending chills dancing along her skin. Ever so slowly he lowered his head, both his hands now cupping her jaw to draw her to him. Lizzie’s eyes drifted closed and she rose on tiptoe, anticipating the epic kiss to come.

  A breath away and with a wicked smile, Elliot released her and stepped back. “We’d better get going,” he said, taking her hand and turning toward the door.

  She nearly fell forward into the void he left, and her eyes flew open. “Going where?” she stammered, still lost in the heated moment.

  He gaped at her in mock amazement. “It’s opening night! If we hurry, maybe we can catch the curtain call.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Finding a place to park among the throng of vehicles surrounding the barn was no easy feat. Elliot was finally forced to pull up onto a gravel patch behind the spa.

  Lizzie tugged her arms into her jacket sleeves. “Good thing I parked by the flower shop and caught a ride up with you.”

  Elliot agreed as he opened his door and climbed out. “I don’t think there’s room for one more car up here.” Circling the car, he opened the passenger door for Lizzie and offered his hand.

  Placing her fingers in his, Lizzie grinned up at him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  He slid his arm through her elbow with a chuckle. “Your mother is the big star in town, not mine.”

  “Lord help us,” Lizzie mumbled as they headed across the lawn toward the brightly lit barn. Even from a distance they could see people milling around the theater, kids running, even a few dogs in the mix. Music, slightly off key, rose from the theater along with the passionate voices of the actors. Lizzie recognized the song as the reprisal of “Tomorrow,” and they picked up their pace. “It’s almost over,” she huffed, struggling to match Elliot’s long strides. “You were right about getting here in time for the curtain call.”

  As they came around the corner of the barn and into the theater, the crowd filling the bleacher seats were on their feet cheering, and the cast was bellowing the final note, their hands gripped in a line across the stage. Near the center was Beatrice, decked out in a hideous dress topped off with a grey wig. When the music ended, the line of cast held their hands high for a long moment, reveling in the applause, then bowed. Beatrice bowed with the line, her face flushed with exertion, heat from the lights, and excitement. The cast bowed again to the thunderous applause and shouts from the audience.

  Lizzie and Elliot clapped enthusiastically, Lizzie beaming. Elliot let out a long shrill whistle that made her jump. “Your mother did a good thing,” he shouted over the noise, but Lizzie couldn’t answer. Much to her surprise, a lump had formed in her throat. Watching her mother smile from the stage, finally finding the acceptance and adoration she’d always desired, made Lizzie’s heart swell.

  Elliot nudged her in the ribs, pointing toward the stage. “Look at your dad!”

  Harold stood in front of the stage, his hands raised in applause as he shouted and cheered for his wife. As the applause waned, he hustled onto the stage and disappeared behind the curtain. A moment later he emerged with his arms full of roses. Beatrice stepped out of line, her eyes wide, and Harold placed the bouquet in her arms, then kissed her on the cheek. Lizzie had never seen her parents exchange such loving glances.

  Sweet, tender feelings for her parents surfaced for the first time, allowing Lizzie to almost imagine the couple as young lovers, touring with an acting troupe in an old VW bus.

  Applause melted into a roar of chatter as the crowd began to disperse. Children ran up and down the steps between the bleachers as their parents greeted neighbors and friends. More family members trooped onstage to hand out flowers and cameras flashed. Elliot squeezed Lizzie’s hand to get her attention. “Let’s go around the back,” he yelled over the roar.

  She agreed and they shouldered through the crowd and around the theater. Once onstage they had to push through the crowd of actors and family sweating under the lights. Elliot led the way, tugging Lizzie behind him.

  Beatrice turned to see Lizzie and her face lit up. Reaching out with her arm, she pulled her daughter close, mindful of her flowers. “Oh darling!” she shouted over the din, “I did fabulously, didn’t I?” She turned to her husband. “Tell them, Harold, I did so good!” Then, wagging a finger at Lizzie, she continued, “And with only one day to rehearse, too!”

  Lizzie hugged her mother again, then took turns smiling at her father and glancing at Elliot as her mother babbled on.

  “…and Mr. Chatterton says I can be in any production here that I want! I can’t tell you how lucky they were to have me here to save the play!”

  Horror crept into the pit of Lizzie’s stomach at the thought of her mother returning for more productions. But the poor woman was so happy, happier than Lizzie had ever seen her. “That’s wonderful,” she said, giving her mother one more pat on the arm before stepping back to allow Mr. Chatterton to crowd between them.

  Soon, Beatrice was surrounded by not only the teacher, but also Winnie, Becky, and Marge, all hugging her and exclaiming how extraordinary she’d been and how thankful they were that she had been there to play the part.

  In the crowd gathered around her mother, Lizzie noticed Gloria. The girl’s brassy red hair was pulled up into a loose bun, and she wore a T-shirt tucked into blue jeans. Her face was glowing with almost no makeup and she looked relaxed and comfortable.

  Lizzie raised a hand in greeting and Gloria nodded with a smile.

  Elliot encircled Lizzie protectively with one arm, drawing her away from the crowd to the edge of the stage.

  Watching her mother glow under the attention of friends, L
izzie felt some peace settle into her heart. She’d finally managed to give her mother what she’d longed for, acceptance and love, and in a setting where she could someday resolve the loss of her own mother. Lizzie felt confident that over time, Beatrice would feel less pain from the past and more hope for the future in the country. She was also beginning to realize that her mother would always be a part of her life, and she’d have to find a way to balance her own wishes with those of her mother.

  Pulling her into an embrace, Elliot tucked Lizzie’s head under his chin. As she melted into the hug, Lizzie had to acknowledge that a future with Elliot would mean time in the city, and she could cope with the idea. She knew big business and how to function in society, and it wasn’t Boston, after all. Elliot was established and it would be fairly easy to slip into his circle when needed, then retreat back to the country. He was worth the challenge.

  After several long moments, he released her to search her face. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

  * * *

  A distant rooster crow woke Lizzie, but she didn’t open her eyes. Instead she tugged Elliot’s arm tighter around her shoulders and spooned her back against his chest. He was so warm she didn’t want to move. Sunbeams poured through the bedroom window and she felt Elliot awaken, his breath hitching as his grip tightened around her. She turned in his arms to greet his sleepy smile.

  “Good morning,” he murmured. “Did you sleep?”

  “Yes,” she lied, knowing full well that both of them had been too busy to sleep much.

  The clatter of tools in the barn jolted Lizzie out of her reverie, and she sprang from the bed, arms and legs sprawling, taking the quilt with her as she ran to the window.

  “What is it?” Elliot asked, leaning up on one elbow.

  Frantically grabbing up a discarded T-shirt from the dirty clothes basket nearby, she tugged it wrong-side-out over her head, momentarily getting stuck. “Someone’s in the barn,” she shouted from under the shirt. Her head popped out of the hole, and she snatched up a pair of jeans, hopping on one foot as she stepped into them.