All I Need

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by Jennifer Van Wyk


  Trust may as well be a four-letter word as much as it’s screwed me over.

  As to not make a scene in front of Miss Polly, I gently pull my arm from his grasp.

  “Trust isn’t something I have the luxury of giving.”

  I move past him, ignoring the confused look on his face, and walk toward the Inn. Miss Polly has her arm out, ready to welcome me. As soon as I’m within arm’s reach, she pulls me in for a hug despite not ever being introduced to one another.

  “Come on in, Ellie.”

  Obviously I don’t do a very good job at hiding the surprise at her knowing my name because she chuckles lightly. “Walker had Grayson call me. Let me know they were bringing you to me.”

  I glance over my shoulder at Walker who’s still standing by my car, hands in his pockets.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow at Sunday services,” Miss Polly calls to Walker. He nods over to Grayson and she shifts her focus to him, who’s watching out his window he has rolled down. “You, too, young man,” she adds in a way that makes it clear they will be seeing her tomorrow.

  “Only if you make me fried chicken for lunch afterward,” Grayson shouts back.

  She snickers and shakes her head good naturedly. “That boy never stops eating.” She squeezes my shoulder, her warm scent enveloping me as she turns us and without another look at the men who brought me to her doorstep, pulls me into her home.

  “Grayson said you might not be staying long?” Miss Polly asks as she sets a bowl of steaming hot chicken and dumplings before me. Right after she pulled me into the house, she gave me a tour of the old Victorian home her granddad built in the 30’s and showed me where I would be staying the night. I had no intention of spending the night in this sleepy town, but one look at the antique bed with the beautiful quilt that looked homemade and I swiftly changed my mind.

  Stepping foot into her home, a solace I’ve never known before immediately blanketed around me. It brought with it a sense of security that even if I had anywhere else to go, I don’t think I would leave.

  She sets down another bowl to my right and slides into the seat, laying a napkin on her lap before reaching over and grabbing my hand.

  Bowing her head, she says a blessing over our meal with an ease that tells me she’s done it thousands of times before then releases my hand and lifts her spoon to her mouth.

  I stare at my food wondering if there’s ever been a single person in my life who has welcomed me so seamlessly.

  “Eat up, Ellie. Something tells me you haven’t had a good home cooked meal in a while.”

  She’s not wrong. I enjoy cooking but Gary always wanted to go out to eat, always needed to be seen or around others. There always seemed to be some benefit dinner or party he said he had to be present at. Looking back now, I realize how much I detested the lifestyle I was living by being Gary’s fiancée. At first it was fun, always dressing up and eating fancy food. But then it became just another event. Just another party. One more way for him to parade me around as the arm candy he wanted me to be.

  He was the face of his father’s company and after I had been all but abandoned by everyone who had claimed to love me, I followed him around like a little puppy. He wanted a wife who would be there for him at a moment’s notice so I made sure to be that for him, even before we were married. He made enough money that I didn’t need to work, though I enjoyed having something for myself. And, I liked to keep busy so I took a job at a friend’s little boutique. It’s small and local and I love it. It drove him crazy that his fiancée was working retail, which should have been a major red flag.

  But I’d been wounded deeply and I ignored the signs that he was a jackhole.

  Miss Polly gently slides my bowl closer to me and I raise my eyes to look at her. Light blue gazes back at me, her eyes soft when she notices the few tears that slipped down over my cheeks.

  “Eat. Sleep. In the morning, you can tell me all about whoever took that sparkle out of your eyes. He doesn’t deserve those tears.”

  I wipe away the wetness from my cheeks with the napkin on my lap and smile. “This looks delicious. Thank you,” I tell her before taking a bite of the creamy comfort food. Sighing with contentment, I dig in, not realizing how hungry I am.

  Before I know it, Miss Polly’s carrying over a pan and ladles up a few more spoons full into my bowl. She places it back on the stove then sets a plate of warm apple crisp topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream next to me and one for her. She winks at me and says, “Dessert doesn’t cure everything but it’s a good Band-Aid until then.”

  I rush through my second bowl of food to get to dessert. After demolishing it as well, I lean back, stuffed full, and not just of the food that Miss Polly fed me.

  “Thank you, Miss Polly. That was delicious. You’re right, I don’t remember the last time I had a good home cooked meal.”

  “You’re welcome at this table any time, honey.”

  She doesn’t fight me when I tell her I’d like to help her clean-up, which makes me smile.

  “Before you go to bed, you need to see the backyard,” she tells me as she dries the last bowl and places it in the cupboard.

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. It’s like dessert. It might not cure everything but will aid in the healing process.”

  She pats me on the arm as I gaze out the kitchen window into the slowly darkening summer night. “You know where to find me should you need anything but this old woman needs her beauty rest. You’ll join me for Sunday services?” Her question is anything but. My guess is nobody says no to Miss Polly.

  “Sure,” I promise her. “I’m going to get my bag from the car.”

  “Lock up when you get back inside, you just need to turn the knob. Feel free to use the dressers,” she says by way of letting me know I’m welcome to stay for a while. I don’t have any intention of staying any longer than necessary, but her offer makes me feel good, nonetheless.

  She shuffles out of the kitchen and down a short hallway off the main living area. The door to her bedroom clicks closed quietly behind her and I grab the key fob from my purse before making my way out the front door to the car. For a brief second, I consider just climbing in and driving away but the desire to stay is far greater than the desire to run.

  Instead, I tap the button on the fob to pop the trunk. Five minutes later, my bags are hauled up to my new room, or at least the place I’ll be sleeping tonight.

  Thinking over the words Polly said about her backyard, and considering that it’s only eight o’clock in the evening, I venture back downstairs and out the backdoor.

  I gasp as soon as I step out of the door and onto the patio. If I thought there was a lot of time spent on the front landscaping, it was nothing compared to what is laid out before me. Large evergreen trees line the expansive property on either side of the yard with what looks to be almost a privacy fence. Off to the right of the patio is a rock garden with a trickling fountain. There’s a brick patio with a table and chairs set up on the other side. Slowly moving one foot in front of the other, I step down onto the grass and walk around, bending over to smell the flowers. Wrapping my arms around my waist, I tip my head back and take in a deep breath.

  It might not cure everything, but it will aid in the healing process.

  I can’t help but think that there’s more truth to those words than she’s letting on.

  I ROUSE A GRUMBLING GRAYSON with a little more pep in my step than I usually carry on a Sunday morning. If I know Miss Polly, she’ll have Ellie in that seat next to her. I fell asleep to thoughts of her and woke up with her still on my mind. What brought her to our sleepy little town? Trust isn’t something I have the luxury of giving. What did she mean by that? As curious as I am about her story, I also can’t get the vision of her out of my head. Never before have I met someone as beautiful as Ellie. Or as broken.

  My phone in the pocket of my black trousers alerts me with a text so I give Grayson one more gentle slap to the back to get him moving. With one l
ast reminder that it’s time to get up if he wants that fried chicken from Miss Polly, I head down the stairs to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

  I dig my phone out of my pocket and settle against the counter as I take a small sip of the steaming brew, my bulldog, Brutus, is snoring at my feet, as usual.

  Willow: How was your night?

  Me: Interesting. Easier to explain in person.

  Willow: Yikes.

  Me: Lol it’s fine. Heading to services. Grayson’s hoping for some chicken from Miss Polly for lunch.

  Willow: So you saw Miss Polly last night? Sounds like it was an interesting night.

  I laugh to myself at how well she knows Miss Polly.

  Me: Yup. See you there. ;)

  Willow: Ok

  Grayson comes down the stairs, hair sticking up in every direction. He dramatically sits down in a kitchen chair and lays his head on the table, arms stretched out wide beside him. “Why am I awake?” he mumbles.

  “Miss Polly’s fried chicken,” I remind him.

  He slowly lifts his head and graces me with a crooked grin that reminds me of when he was younger. “Right. It’s worth it.”

  Brutus walks over to Grayson and drops in front of him, all four legs spread out. Grayson reaches down and scratches the top of his head and Brutus lets out a pathetic moan. “He’s so lazy.” I just sip my coffee. I don’t need to agree to what he already knows is true. “Breakfast?”

  “Shower first. I’ll make you some eggs while you’re getting ready for church.”

  His head jerks up at my offer. It’s not that I’m not always willing to make him breakfast but lately I’ve been making him do it on his own. “Really? Thanks Walker. You’re the best.”

  “Don’t you forget it.”

  He stands up and starts for the stairs then stops in his tracks. Straightening to his full height, which is just a little shy of my 6’2”, he slowly turns around and points at me, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Wait. Why are you so cheery this morning?”

  I shrug, not meeting his eyes. “I just got a good night’s sleep last night.”

  “Liar. You’re hoping Miss Polly convinces Ellie to go to church with her today.”

  “Why would I care if she comes with her?”

  “Because you like her,” he states simply.

  “How can I like her? I talked to her for all of ten minutes.”

  “I’ve asked girls for their Snapchats in less time than that.”

  “Yes, but I’m not a teenager.”

  He looks at me for a second. “You’re right. You are pretty old. In fact… is that a gray hair coming in?” he asks, inspecting my head a little closer.

  “Shut up, you punk. I do not have gray hair,” I growl.

  “Maybe you’ll get lucky and Ellie likes a silver fox,” he teases.

  I playfully push him away from me.

  He laughs all the way up the stairs and the second he’s out of eyesight I dart to the small guest bathroom off the living room and check the mirror.

  “That little liar,” I whisper, inspecting my head for any signs of grays.

  “Made ya look,” I hear from behind me and whip around to see Grayson peeking his head around the door frame. I lunge for him and he quickly moves away, howling in laughter all the way up the stairs.

  An hour later we’re on our way to church. Every time I look at Grayson he has a smirk on his face. “Stop it already.”

  “Stop what? Knowing the truth? You always said that it was smart to pay attention to human behavior so I could have empathy for people’s needs.”

  “What made you such a smartass?”

  “Becoming a teenager. I’m pretty sure it’s in our DNA.”

  “Good thing we’re heading to church. You need prayer.”

  “We all do, Uncle Walker. To pretend otherwise is just insane,” he scoffs.

  “You used to be sweet and innocent. What happened to you?”

  “Probably technology.”

  I groan. He has an answer for everything.

  A few minutes later we pull into the parking lot next to his mom’s car. Not surprisingly, she’s still sitting in it. Even at thirty-five she hates going into crowded places alone. Grayson climbs out and opens her door.

  I round the front of the pickup just in time to hear him tell her, “Uncle Walker has a new crush.”

  “You have such a big mouth and I do not.” I try my best to protest.

  “Look at him. Have you seen him this dressed up for church in years?”

  I glance down at my pants and realize he’s absolutely correct. Our church has taken a more casual tone and we tend to wear jeans most days. It’s not like I’m wearing a three-piece suit but the black dress pants and charcoal gray button down I’m sporting is definitely a step up from my usual Sunday attire.

  “Crap,” I mumble.

  “You weren’t joking when you said you had an interesting night,” my sister teases.

  “Let’s just go in.”

  They follow behind, chuckling the entire way.

  My eyes immediately seek out Miss Polly the second we’re in the building. She sits in the same general area every single week. At least she does the weeks she manages to convince me to be in attendance.

  My heart deflates when I find her and don’t see Ellie sitting by her side.

  The three of us find a seat and settle into the section of seats across the aisle from her and back a few rows. Polly glances over her shoulder and looks right at me. She winks and turns around to face the front right away. I scrunch my eyebrows but shake it off.

  For as amazing as a human as Miss Polly is, she’s also a little bit eccentric.

  I’m fidgeting in my seat, feeling uneasy for a reason I can’t identify when the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I turn just in time to see Ellie breeze past me and find her seat next to Polly. This time when Polly glances in my direction I know exactly what she’s trying to convey in her look.

  Told you she was here.

  Grayson starts nudging me with his elbow then I hear him lean over and whisper to his mom something about the woman beside Miss Polly. I roll my eyes, knowing this is going to screw me over so bad.

  I don’t hear anything the preacher says in the service. Every time I manage to tear my gaze away from the back of Ellie’s head, I feel that pull and can’t stop my eyes from drifting over in her direction.

  “She’s not going anywhere.” Grayson leans over to whisper.

  “Pay attention to the sermon.”

  “I could say the same to you, since it’s over,” he jokes.

  Just as I’m standing I hear Miss Polly’s voice. “Willow, I’m sure Grayson told you he requested fried chicken for lunch. Are you joining us?”

  “You know I never turn away an offer for your cooking.”

  “Good. We’ll see you at the house soon then.”

  “Miss Polly? Care to introduce me to your guest first?”

  Her hand goes to her mouth and a gasp escapes her lips. “Oh my! I can’t believe… yes. This is Ellie, though, she’s already met Grayson and Walker. I’m surprised they didn’t tell you all about it? I suppose I haven’t really heard the whole story, either. Maybe over lunch, hmm?” Polly rambles on, all the while keeping a firm grip on Ellie’s hand, likely afraid she’s about to run off. I wouldn’t blame her. I think every pair of eyes is on her.

  My sister reaches out a hand to Ellie. “Hi, welcome. I’m Willow, Grayson’s mom and Walker’s sister.”

  Ellie takes her hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you.” Her eyes flit to me for just a quick second, assessing me head to toe before turning back to Polly. Yesterday she was beautiful but today with minimal makeup on and a simple long black dress, she’s even more so. “I’m going to stop at the restroom before we go back to the Inn. I think I saw it right when I was walking in.” As she walks past me, our arms brush against each other’s and I suck in a breath through my nose.

  Only, that’s a mist
ake because as I do so, I inhale her light, flowery scent. I almost groan. Never before has a woman affected me in this way. Sure, I’ve been physically attracted to them, obviously. Turned on? Yes. But this desire I feel for her is almost all consuming. I don’t know what to make of it but I definitely know I don’t like it.

  “Oh, I’ll be happy to show you where it’s at,” Willow says cheerfully, giving me a smile much like her son’s earlier this morning as she passes by me. I resist the urge to yank her back to me knowing she’s about to meddle where she has no business meddling.

  I’ve never been much for commitment. While I was in college my main focus was getting into veterinary school. Then Willow got pregnant and after searching for and contacting Grayson’s dad, she realized she would be raising him primarily on her own. Willow made it perfectly clear that if he didn’t want any part of his life, that was on him but he would not come and go as he saw fit. He was smart enough to want to be a part of Grayson’s life but doesn’t live close. One weekend a month he would visit Grayson, then once he was a little older and Willow and he were both comfortable with it, Grayson began spending a few weeks out of every summer with his dad.

  My focus expanded from strictly veterinary school to helping my sister raise her only child. Any woman who came into my life had to be okay with sharing me that way. Obviously since my relationship status is still showing single, none made the cut. There’s nothing that matters more to me than Grayson, though. I’ve never once felt like I was missing out on something in favor or putting him first.

  It’s not that I have some big reason to be shy of commitment. I wasn’t traumatized by some love gone wrong when I was younger. My parents are still happily married and enjoying their retirement as snowbirds living in southern Texas. But their conservative views on sex before marriage prevented them from being the grandparents Grayson deserved and the support Willow needed.

 

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