“I see your driving habits haven’t changed any,” he said blandly. “Do you have any idea how fast you were going?”
Rebecca tried to remember and then shrugged. “No clue,” she told him cheerfully. “Why? Was I going too fast for you?”
He just mumbled something about getting killed before they’d had two full hours together and followed her into the building. She picked up the mail and rifled through it after opening her front door.
“What’s this?” she wondered aloud when she saw a large, cream-colored envelope at the bottom of the pile. “It looks like an announcement of some sort.” Elliot set his backpack on the floor next to the door and rested his chin on her head, watching as she slit it open with her key.
She started laughing when she read the first words on the thick paper inside. “Nicole’s inviting me to her wedding in two weeks,” she said, noting the date and doing some quick math in her head. “They’ve known each other for, how long now? A month or so? That was awfully fast.”
Elliot didn’t say anything for a moment, studying the invitation in her hands. “I guess when you know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone there’s no need to wait,” he said finally. Then he took the paper from her and tossed it, along with both their cell phones, onto the sofa. “Come on,” he ordered. “Outside. It’s too beautiful of a day to be indoors, and if we don’t disappear now, your sister might come and try to take you shopping. Today you’re mine.”
He strode around her building and headed purposefully toward the park. “I think we should have a picnic,” he declared, not stopping until they’d reached a tree at the far end of the pond. “We’re going to lay here and just be all afternoon.” Reaching inside his bag, he pulled out a blanket and spread it out. Then he pushed her down and sat next to her. She leaned against him and sighed happily.
“This is what I wanted to do the last time we had a picnic,” she confessed, closing her eyes dreamily. “But I didn’t know what you’d do if I tried anything.”
“Really?” His hold around her tightened, and he pulled her closer. “I wanted to ditch Cassie and Michael and take you on a long walk around the pond. My plan was to tell you I still loved you, but I lost my nerve after your sister started that horrible conversation about Sharpe.”
Rebecca groaned. “Please don’t ever say his name again,” she said. “I still can’t believe I ever agreed to go out with him.”
“Don’t worry,” Elliot said distastefully. “You won’t hear it from me.” They sat there for a long time, not saying anything and watching the people come and go in front of them. After a while, Rebecca roused herself to sit up and look at him.
“How did you ever get to own my mother’s piano?” she asked. She had thought about that since she’d left Cassie’s the night before, and now that the excitement of the morning was over the thought came flooding back. “I mean, you didn’t even know we were having an auction. You couldn’t have purchased it then.”
Elliot laid his head in her lap and gazed up at her. “I heard you talking to Locke one day in his library,” he said languidly. “I remember that piano very well, you know, and when I heard that you’d had to sell it, I knew I needed to find it. Maybe I wanted to atone for my actions with Nicole; I don’t know. Or maybe I wanted to save something that I knew meant a lot to you.”
To her horror, Rebecca could feel her eyes filling with tears. What was it about Elliot that made her cry? she thought fiercely. She’d gone years without tearing up, and Elliot Winters reappears and the dams come flooding down. “I’m glad you found it,” she said unsteadily, hoping he hadn’t noticed anything. “My mother would have been very pleased.”
He reached up and brushed away a tear with his finger. “It’s yours, you know. If I could figure out a way to get it up those stairs of yours, I’d move it in tomorrow.”
Laughing shakily, she rubbed her face on her sleeve and then ran her fingers through his unruly hair. He must have been running his hands through it all morning to make it look so wild. “I like it where it is,” she said. “Now I don’t need an excuse to come to your apartment.”
“Like you’ve ever needed a reason. Someday it…” He stopped talking and looked up into the leaves of the tree. “…Whatever my reason for searching it out, after you’d gone back to Chicago, I was left in that big, empty house with your scent following me everywhere, and I couldn’t get that piano out of my head. I made a few calls and found the family that had purchased it. One thing led to another, and it was mine by the time I came back here.”
She looked at him skeptically. “Surely they didn’t just hand it over to you.”
Elliot shifted uncomfortably and sat up to pull a bag out of his backpack. “It was a little tricky,” he admitted, his head averted, “but they eventually came around.”
Her eyes round, Rebecca placed her hand on his to still his movements. “You didn’t bribe them, did you?”
Again, Elliot eyes slid away. “I had to have that piano,” he told her in a voice that said, quite plainly, that this was the last she was going to hear on the subject. “Bribery is such a distasteful word. I traded something they wanted for something they already had. And I’d do it again if I thought it’d make you happy. Would you like ham or turkey? I brought both.”
Knowing it was futile to press him, Rebecca raised her eyebrows and watched him pull lunch out of his backpack. “When did you put that together?”
“This morning, before I dropped all those papers at your apartment.” He said this matter-of-factly, like he’d known all along they’d end up at that particular spot that afternoon.
“You were awfully presumptuous, weren’t you?” she asked him a little too severely. “I might not have even come today, and then were would you be?”
Elliot dropped the water bottles he was holding and stared at her. “I didn’t explain myself very well. I was hoping you’d come, not knowing. I know I left a lot of room for disaster,” he went on ruefully when she didn’t respond. “I spent the whole night and most of this morning praying that you’d read my column and that you’d get to the fountain.”
“I almost didn’t,” she pointed out. “You have no idea how angry I was when I read that.”
Rubbing his cheek, Elliot said, “Oh, I have a pretty good idea. You were right, you know,” he told her. “I did promise not to write about you again, and I reneged on that promise. I can safely tell you now that it’ll never happen again. You made me swear it in front of thousands of people.”
“And I imagine your editor was there, too.”
Elliot shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t bother to look for her. If it makes you feel any better, you can write about me any time you like.”
Rebecca laughed in spite of herself. “And who would I get to read that?” she asked, grabbing the water from him. “A bunch of two-year-olds?”
“You never know,” he said seriously. “You never know.”
They remained outside until the streetlights flickered on and it was hard to see the way back to her apartment. Then they stumbled, hand in hand, over the grass and to her front door. Elliot hesitated in the doorway when she walked into the sitting room, and she laughed and tugged him in behind her. “You weren’t thinking about leaving so soon, were you?” she teased, walking into her miniscule kitchen to wash her hands.
Elliot stood behind her and held her hands under the stream of water. “Well, I have been here a long time. I didn’t want to assume anything.”
Rebecca tilted her head back and kissed his chin. “You’re welcome to stay until bedtime,” she said firmly. “Any day you want. Didn’t I tell you that I loved you? That means you can stick around until you get tired of my presence.”
At this statement, Elliot lifted her chin and kissed her so hard that she almost forgot who she was. His eyes were dark and intense when he pulled away. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that,” he said in a hoarse voice. “So repeat it as often as you like.”
They spent the remainder of the evening curled up on the couch in her library, eating spaghetti and watching old movies that always ended happily. When he finally opened the front door to leave, he gripped her hand so tightly that she began to lose feeling in her fingers. “I’m afraid that if I go to sleep tonight I’ll wake up only to realize that this has been only a dream,” he said, panic starting to edge into his voice. “I don’t think I could handle that.”
“Locke promised to come over this weekend and help me paint down here,” she told him. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow when he does? He saw the whole thing this morning, so he can verify that it really happened.”
“Paint? Why do you need to paint in here?” Elliot stared at the walls blankly. “They look fine to me.”
Rebecca just shook her head. Maybe he needed to get his eyes checked. Or perhaps he was colorblind. “It needs to be painted,” she told him. “Now kiss me and go home. You look like you could use a good night’s sleep.”
One kiss turned into two, which turned into several more, and Elliot finally backed out the door with a promise to call her when he woke up the next morning. “Not too early,” she warned as he slowly made his way out of the building. “I need my beauty rest, you know.”
He paused with his hand on the doorknob, as though he was about to say something, but he just muttered to himself and walked out, looking over his shoulder as he went. She wandered up the stairs to her bedroom and lay awake for some time, thinking of water shows and picnics under the stars.
Elliot, Locke, and Melissa were on her doorstep at eight the next morning, and Rebecca was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes when she let them in. “I thought you were going to call first,” she yawned before leaning into Elliot’s arms.
He laughed quietly in her ear as the others went up the stairs. “I left my phone here,” he explained. “And I wanted to see you again. You don’t mind, do you?”
She smiled at him sleepily. “Of course not. Are you convinced this wasn’t all a dream, or do you need more proof?”
“I need just one thing.” When she looked at him questioningly, he asked, “Tell me again? Please?”
Bringing his head close enough for her blurry eyes to see clearly, she rose on her toes and said, just before their lips touched, “I love you, Elliot Winters.”
There was no more talking until Locke yelled from upstairs, “Come on, you two lovebirds. Time’s a wastin’!”
“I told you I’d never get tired of hearing that,” Elliot murmured as they climbed the stairs. Rebecca hugged Locke and disappeared into her bedroom to get dressed, and when she came back out they had the furniture covered with drop cloths and the paint cans ready to open. They even had the baseboards and trim taped off.
“You guys are fast!” she said in surprise, looking around her. “It shouldn’t take too long with all your help; thanks for coming, Melissa.” She looked at the other girl and they smiled at each other. Somehow Rebecca suspected that Melissa would be good for Locke, and she hoped he’d allow himself to see that.
Before she knew it, all the downstairs walls had been transformed from their previous grossness to a much lighter shade of green. It brightened things considerably and made the entire downstairs look much bigger than it had before.
I still can’t fit more than two people at a time comfortably in the kitchen, Rebecca thought while rinsing out the rollers, but at least I won’t get claustrophobic while eating my cereal every morning. She placed them on the counter to air dry and made her way upstairs to where Locke was sitting on the couch.
“Where is everyone?” she asked.
“Elliot’s in your shower; he brought his own razor,” Locke told her, laughing at her surprised expression, “and Melissa’s outside calling her roommate. We take off for Michigan tomorrow, and she wants to be sure everything’s ready.”
“I’m glad you’ll be following her,” she told him, sinking down on the couch beside him. “She seems like a wonderful person.”
“She is.” Locke had a faraway look in his eye, but it disappeared when he turned his attention back to her. “Before I leave, I wanted to ask you something.”
Rebecca brought her feet up onto the couch and rested her chin on her knees. “Shoot.”
“When Elliot asks you to marry him again, what are you going to say?”
Rebecca blinked at him for a minute. He certainly knew how to get straight to the heart of a matter. “If he asked me right now, I’d tell him it was too soon.”
“And if he popped the question later on, like in a month?”
Looking at him oddly, Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can tell you this: when I say I’ll marry him, then I will. After seven years of regret, no one can change my mind.”
Satisfied, Locke leaned over and hugged her tightly. “I’ll miss you, Rebecca Done. I won’t have an excuse for my random visits anymore.”
“Sure you do,” Rebecca protested. “You know I’d love to see you anytime.”
He sighed and ruffled her hair. “I know that, but you have Elliot now. Doesn’t she, Elliot?”
Rebecca turned her head and watched as Elliot made his way over to sit next to her on the couch. He pulled her onto his lap and propped his head on her shoulder. “You better believe it. Should we take them to Jaime’s for lunch as a send-off before they leave us for greener pastures?”
She laughed and leaned her cheek against his. “I’ll need to shower first.”
“You look fine,” Elliot said. “You always do.”
Locke clicked his tongue. “Man, she’s got green paint in her hair and all down her arms. Let the woman get cleaned up. She won’t wash down the drain. Besides, I want to talk to you, anyway.” Rebecca shot him a look when she stood up, but Locke just smiled at her innocently and put his legs on her coffee table. “Don’t worry about us, Rebecca. We’ll keep ourselves entertained.”
“Behave yourselves,” she warned, looking pointedly at Locke before she left the room.
When she came out of the bedroom half an hour later, her hair still slightly damp, Elliot was standing in the library alone, looking absently at her books. He had a strange expression on his face, like he’d just learned something but didn’t know what to do with the knowledge he’d gained.
“Is everything all right?” she asked, walking over to him and placing her hand in his.
He shook his head as if to clear it and grinned at her. “Of course,” he said. “I told Locke we’d meet them at the restaurant. He said they were such expert painters that they didn’t need to get cleaned up.” He lifted one shoulder. “Anyway, I was thinking I should drive,” he continued, following her down the stairs. “I’m not sure my blood pressure can handle your breakneck speed.”
“I’m a perfectly safe driver,” she protested, scooping up her keys and dangling them in front of him. “And we’ll get there much faster if I’m behind the wheel. You’re slower than a sloth. Didn’t anyone teach you what the pedal on the right is for?”
Wearing a slightly martyred expression, Elliot allowed her to lead him to her car. “Okay, from now on we switch off. At the end of the month, if you can honestly tell me that my way isn’t any better than yours, I’ll stop griping about your speedometer’s readings. Unless you’re putting yourself in danger,” he added hastily.
She just rolled her eyes and buckled herself in. “Come on, slow poke. It’s time to go.”
Elliot only had to grip, white-knuckled, the door handle once, and Rebecca groaned when she saw that Jaime was waiting for them outside the restaurant. “Here we go,” she muttered, looking apologetically at Elliot. “I promise to translate anything he says.”
He leaned over and kissed her before the door was wrenched open by a very excited Jaime. “I saw you on television yesterday,” he beamed. “I knew you two would see reason! Come in, come in! Lunch’s on the house tonight!”
“What’s with the English?” Rebecca asked curiously as Jaime led them to their table.
Locke and Melissa were already there, laughing behind their menus at all the fuss.
“I don’t need to talk about Elliot behind his back any more,” Jaime explained cheerfully. “He can know everything now.”
Rebecca squeezed Elliot’s hand sympathetically and they endured a procession of Jaime’s family, all congratulating them–on what, precisely, Rebecca didn’t know. It wasn’t like they were engaged or anything.
Locke watched the proceedings with a great deal of amusement. “You sly dog, you! Did you propose on the way here?” he asked, his question mirroring Rebecca’s thoughts. “Because if you did and I’m the last to know, I might be royally ticked off.”
“No, no,” Elliot said hastily, glancing at Rebecca briefly before making a show of opening his menu. “Leave me alone. We’ve only been dating a few days.”
Locke snorted and looked at Rebecca. “Speaking of marriage, I saw a wedding invitation in your kitchen. That wouldn’t be Pinkie’s, would it?”
“It is,” she said absently, watching Jaime across the room. He was mouthing something at her that she couldn’t decipher. “Are you coming back for it?”
When there was no immediate response, Rebecca’s eyes focused on the man across the table. “What?” she asked. He seemed very uncomfortable.
Elliot laughed quietly next to her and leaned back in his chair, his arm thrown casually across her shoulders. “Locke may not receive an invitation,” he said, laughing harder when Locke busied himself with the bowl of chips.
Melissa’s eyes darted between Locke and Elliot, obviously intrigued. “Who’s Pinkie?” she asked, resting her head on her hand. “And why wouldn’t she invite you to her wedding?”
“Yeah, Locke, why won’t Pinkie invite you to her wedding?” Elliot was laughing so hard by now that he had to hold on to Rebecca’s chair to keep himself upright.
Clearing his throat, Locke glared at his friend. “Pinkie, or Nicole, as she’s known in kinder circles, was after Elliot here when I first met her. She was very persistent, and after she bonked her head on the side of my boat, she seemed to think Elliot would cater to her every whim–”
The Ex's Confession Page 37
