Paige walked through the room for the hundredth time, and Natalie snapped her gaze away from the adorable scene on the couch and pretended to pay attention to the movie.
Halfway through, Elliott fell asleep as usual, but Lily and Natalie just let him snore, smiling at each other over the top of his head.
“We’ll have to play Elsa’s movie for him again,” Lily whispered as the credits rolled.
“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Natalie said.
She got Lily into bed, then came back to gently shake Elliott’s shoulder to wake him, as he’d requested she do anytime he fell asleep on her couch.
He looked up sheepishly and scrambled to the door, giving her arm a tired squeeze good-bye.
Natalie closed the door quietly and returned to the front room under Paige’s scrutiny.
“That didn’t look like friends to me. You’re sleeping with him, aren’t you?”
“No!” Natalie was truly shocked. What did she mean that didn’t look like friends? She’d never felt like more of a friend in her life. If that wasn’t friendship, she didn’t know what was.
“You promise?”
“Yes!”
“There haven’t been any more kisses? No caresses? He’s not copping a feel when I’m not looking?”
“No! Stop, Paige! We’re friends, and that’s it.”
Natalie turned toward the kitchen counter and busied herself with washing their cups and popcorn bowls. She couldn’t rectify the heat sliding up through her cheeks and was afraid she was blushing furiously. She felt quite in control when she was with Elliott, but hearing Paige mention kisses, caresses, and touching in relation to Elliott made Natalie picture him leaning toward her, maybe undoing her blouse, maybe smiling a little in that cute way he did, and . . . She needed to stop. It was hot. The idea was hot. That’s all there was to it.
She didn’t want to think of Elliott that way, but her thoughts were getting harder and harder to resist. Sometimes her imagination drifted when he stood too close at the center, and she could smell his sandalwood soap mixed with the scent that was just all man. Sometimes it happened when he ducked his head after being caught staring at her breasts when they played poker with the seniors at the center. Sometimes she’d have to corral her musings when she’d turn to face him under one of their many sunsets, and he’d be gazing at her with that reverence he sometimes had, lost in thought, thinking things she didn’t want to let herself imagine. And tonight the thoughts had gone all the way to marriage? She didn’t know what had come over her.
She finished rinsing the dishes and wiped her hands on a dish towel.
Paige watched her over the rim of her coffee mug. “I guess I believe you.”
“I do like talking with him,” Natalie whispered.
Could she tell Paige any of this? Would Paige understand?
But before Natalie could decide whether she wanted to venture into more revealing information, Paige stood and brought her mug to the sink. “Like I said, I don’t care if you talk,” she said. “But if I hear of clothes coming off, you’d better be standing at the door when I arrive, ready to hand over my seven hundred dollars. I still think you’re going to lose.”
Natalie bristled at Paige’s challenging tone. So much for sharing. Paige had just ruined the moment.
“I’m not going to lose,” Natalie said with a conviction she absolutely believed.
And she was a little surprised to hear the disappointment that lay embedded in that reality.
“We’ll see about that,” Paige said.
Natalie resisted throwing a dish towel at her. Or maybe a mug. Sometimes Paige could be such a bitch.
The following Monday marked Natalie’s last week on the island.
Olivia had only one more week of required bed rest, and Natalie had only one more week of prom planning. It was hard to believe that three months had come to an end already. She thought that the idea of leaving—once it was right on the horizon like this—would give her a feeling of freedom, like a balloon breaking from a fist and floating gently, free, away. But strangely it didn’t. Instead of the soaring feeling she thought it would give her, the passing days left her with a sense of enormous, unfathomable loss. By the time Wednesday rolled around, she was actually feeling panicked.
She glanced up at Elliott over the pizza slices they’d just made and were eating out on his patio, and tried to swallow.
“I’m leaving next week, you know,” she said.
A shadow crossed over his face as he picked the olives off his slice and nodded. “I know. I’m keeping track.”
The sounds of seagulls taking off interrupted them for a minute as they stared at their dinners.
“No chance you’ll stay on the island?” he asked.
She’d been thinking all week about that strange reversal of feeling she’d had, and finally came to the conclusion she must have been on a taffy high. The idea of marriage and being a parent this early was insane, clearly brought on by the dim lighting, too much sugar, and the cute way Elliott had been with Lily all night. But now she was thinking clearer. And remembering all her old reasons. Despite how wonderful Elliott was, and how panicked she was at the idea of saying good-bye, she really couldn’t live here.
“I can’t, Elliott. I admire all of you for being able to do it, but it feels claustrophobic to me.”
“But you’re not a commitment-phobe.” He winked. It had become an inside joke between them.
Natalie sighed. She didn’t like that word. She didn’t think she was afraid of commitment—weren’t commitment-phobes only men who were dodging marriage? She didn’t think of herself that way at all. Although, she had to admit, she did tend to gravitate toward unavailable men, as Paige had mentioned. And she did nitpick men until she could find reasons to break up with them. And she did tend to avoid jobs that required long lengths of time or enclosed surroundings with the same people.
But she’d done great with all the commitments she’d made so far these past three months—to the seniors, to the center, to Lily, to her friendship with Elliott. She was really proud of herself. But, then again, they all had an end date. Which made them less like real commitments, perhaps. The idea of staying on for any of these things, especially for an undetermined amount of time, made her want to throw up.
“Hey, do you like snorkeling?” Elliott asked.
Natalie put down her pizza. She suddenly wasn’t hungry. “Yes. I used to go all the time when I was a kid—up at Heart’s Cove.”
“We should go before you leave,” he said. “Something you said at the tide pools gave me an idea about an algae. I want to see if it grows over on the other side of the island. Where’s a good place to snorkel over there?”
“Heart’s Cove would probably be perfect.”
“Does it have some east-facing nooks, where algae might grow? Where is it exactly?”
Natalie described the location, and Elliott pulled out his laptop so they could double-check its position.
“This looks perfect,” he said, peering at the screen. “Want to go with me?”
“When?”
“How about Saturday?”
“Actually Saturday is Senior Prom, and I was going to ask—”
The doorbell rang and broke Natalie’s trajectory. She was finally going to get up the nerve to ask Elliott to go with her, as friends. Natalie had thought perhaps Paige would understand and let her bring a platonic date without sacrificing the bet, which ended the next day. The prom was, after all, part of her job, and what she’d been planning for the last several months. Natalie had thought she could bring Elliott, since the rules were already clear with him, and there’d be no long explanations necessary about the mancation.
When a second, more frantic doorbell ring followed, Natalie lifted her eyebrows. “Hot date?”
He laughed. “I can’t imagine
.”
He left to answer, and Natalie heard voices in the entryway—the other a woman’s. Finally, Elliott stepped through the slider.
“Natalie? I’d like you to meet someone.”
Natalie turned in her chaise.
“Nell, this is Natalie Grant. Natalie, my sister, Nell.”
Natalie scrambled to her feet, thrusting her hand forward. She’d never actually met Nell. She’d seen her at the Bars and Barks Event, of course, and once afterward at the post office, but Nell didn’t know her name and they’d never exchanged a word. Seeing her up this close, Natalie could definitely see the family resemblance. She stood before Nell now, expectantly, wanting to make a good impression.
“Nice to meet you,” Natalie said, pushing her hand farther forward.
Nell’s expression could best be described as perplexed, combined with a bit of wonder, and she shook Natalie’s hand hesitantly. “I didn’t know Elliott had a friend. Er, I mean, over. I didn’t know he had a friend over.”
“It’s okay. We’re just watching the sun set. Here, have a seat with us.” Natalie swept her hand in the direction of the gold-drenched chaise lounges. She truly wanted to get to know Nell better.
But Elliott seemed to have other ideas. “Nell’s not staying,” he said emphatically, tugging his sister’s shoulders back inside the house.
“Elliott, stop!” Nell slapped his hands away. “Maybe I want to chat a little with . . . What did you say your name was?”
“Natalie.”
“Huh.” The wonder was still on her face as Nell frowned, seemingly trying to make sense of a forest fairy. “Elliott’s never mentioned you.”
“I’m probably not worth mentioning.” Natalie laughed. “I just—”
“Nell’s got to be going,” Elliott said, pulling at her again.
“Wait.” Nell stepped back toward her. “How old are you, Natalie?”
Natalie blinked. That was a weird question. She glanced once at Elliott, who simply looked annoyed and shook his head.
“Twenty-seven,” she blurted.
“I see. And what do you do?”
“Nell, I’m sure Natalie doesn’t want to be given the third degree. I just wanted you to say hi.” He rested his arm over her shoulder and steered her back toward the slider. “Now, where did you have to be? Aren’t Max and Jim waiting for you?”
“I’m just curious about your friend, Elliott.”
“Uh-huh. Well, she might be curious about you, too, but she’s not asking rude questions. Let’s do this another time.” He directed her back into the house, and although she tried to protest at first, she eventually let him push her inside.
When Elliott came back a few minutes later, he shook his head and plopped down next to Natalie. “She’s terrible.”
“What was that?”
“She’s still looking to set me up.”
“Am I a candidate now?” An unexpected smile escaped Natalie, pleased by this endorsement for some reason.
“Actually, no. You’re my sister’s worst nightmare. She’ll call me tonight and ask me more about you.”
The smile slid off Natalie’s face. “What? What do you mean I’m her worst nightmare? I would be a great girlfriend. I’m perfect for you.”
Elliott lifted an eyebrow.
“I mean . . . you know . . . if we were thinking along those lines. Which we aren’t. But if we were . . . Wait, why would I be Nell’s worst nightmare?”
Elliott threw his arm over his head on the lounge and stared out toward the ocean. “You’re too young. Not science-y enough. Not nerdy enough. You don’t have a boring, staid career.”
Natalie stared hard at him. “Too young? I’m almost the same age as you!”
“She wants me to date someone in her thirties.”
“And what do you mean, ‘not science-y enough’? Do you mean not smart enough? Not cerebral enough?”
“I didn’t say that, Natalie.”
“And what do you mean I don’t have a ‘boring, staid career’? You mean I can’t commit to a career at all?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“But that’s what you meant, didn’t you?”
Elliott swung his legs over the side of the chaise and faced her. “Look, I’m not going to let you make this into something it’s not. I didn’t say any of that. And Nell didn’t say any of that about you specifically. It’s just that Nell told me, a couple of months ago, that she thought I should date women who were in ‘in my league,’ meaning as nerdy and undateable as I am.”
“I think she meant women who were as smart as you, and you know it. You think I’m not smart enough for you, and you know that Nell would think that.”
Elliott shook his head. “What are we even arguing about? You and I aren’t dating. Your choice, by the way. It doesn’t matter what Nell thinks of you. She doesn’t get to choose my friends.”
Natalie looked away. He was right. But it still bothered her that his sister wouldn’t approve of her as a romantic partner. She’d had a long life of being treated with disdain by many, many men, but it never occurred to her she might be treated that way by a woman. Regarding that woman’s brother. Whom Natalie wasn’t even dating.
She sighed. She was being ridiculous.
She reached over and gave Elliott’s knee a good-bye squeeze. “You’re right. This isn’t something we should argue about. So what did she come over for anyway?”
“Nell set me up on a double date with her and Jim for that Senior Prom this weekend. She’s flying someone over who she said is ‘just right’ this time.” He made air quotes and leaned back, not looking too happy about it.
The jealousy and possessiveness that zipped through Natalie regarding Elliott’s prior dates was something she’d gotten used to ignoring. But this time felt like something she might need to examine.
Because this time it had an ominous sense of foreboding. And she’d need to figure out why.
If she could stop her heart from pounding, that was.
CHAPTER 22
The next day, Natalie had a million errands to run to get the prom organized—so many, in fact, that she was able to keep her mind off her rising sense of apprehension.
As she prepared to leave Casas del Sur that afternoon to pick up Lily, she almost bumped into a closed door at the end of a hallway, then heard a familiar voice drifting out of a door ahead of her.
“Are you sure this is right?” the voice asked.
A smile overtook her for the first time all day as she peeked inside the room.
Elliott was standing in the center, one arm curled around an imaginary partner, the other lifted into the air as if grasping an imaginary hand. He was staring with focus at the floor, waiting for the music to start. Doris was fumbling with an MP3 player at a back table.
“Natalie!” Doris said. “Come help me with this.”
Elliott gave her a cute grin as she entered, as if he’d been caught at something.
“I heard you were taking dancing lessons,” she said, walking back to the MP3 player.
“I finally admitted defeat.”
She fumbled with the cord until the speakers came on, suddenly at the second bar of “Moon River.” It jiggled in and out of the song. “I think something’s wrong with the cord, Doris.”
“Can you hold it for a second, dear?”
“Sure.” Natalie held the cord in its precarious position while the music wafted across the ballroom, and Doris met Elliott in the center of the floor.
“Okay, ballroom hold,” Doris said. “Shoulder blade, remember?”
Doris only came up to the middle of Elliott’s chest, so he adjusted his arm hold to her.
“Now forward with the left foot, side with the right, close,” she said as she led Elliott across the floor. “Forward with the right, side with the left,
close.” The two of them moved in slow, large circles. “Left, side, close,” she said. “Right, side, close. Left, side, close. Yes! You’ve got it, Elliott.”
The two of them continued to spin gracefully around the room. Doris was beaming, and Elliott’s chin came up into the air. Natalie could have watched these two lovely people dancing to “Moon River” all day.
“Natalie, do you want to come over here and dance with our dear Elliott, here? I’m afraid I’m way too short for him. Elliott, you’ll see how much easier it is with someone closer to your height. And age. Come.”
Natalie hesitated for a second, but then thought, Why not? and went to take Doris’s place. The music stayed on, despite the faulty cord.
“Do you remember how to do this, Natalie?” Doris asked, pushing her into position with Elliott.
“I think so.”
“Ballroom hold.” She adjusted their hands. “Shoulder blade, Elliott.” She lifted Elliott’s hand higher. “See—isn’t that easier? You two truly are the perfect height for each other. Natalie, put your hand on Elliott’s shoulder. He has beautiful shoulders, doesn’t he?”
“Yes.” Natalie smiled, but he rolled his eyes and looked away.
They avoided each other’s eyes for the first few seconds, adjusting to the hold, the nearness, the awkwardness, Doris’s critical stare. But soon they were floating together across the room, finally looking into each other’s eyes. Elliott’s gaze stayed steady. It seemed to be filled with gratitude, perhaps for standing in during his lesson, or maybe for being tall enough, or maybe for being comfortable enough for him that he still got the steps right.
But as he continued to hold her stare—the longest he’d ever met her eyes, for sure—she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude herself. She was thankful for their trust, their friendship, the confidence they gave each other, the laughter they could always share, the months that had been filled with wonder. She stared right back into his eyes and was filled with tenderness, then a wave of sadness at the thought of saying good-bye. As her eyes began to mist, he gave her a small, appreciative smile.
The Kiss on Castle Road (A Lavender Island Novel) Page 24
