“I know the perfect place!” Annie announced and Elle’s body jolted. “It’s in the next village. They have posh shops for tourists. Fabulous clothes. Gorgeous. We’ll go there!”
Witnessing her friend’s excitement and knowing how much Annie loved to shop, Elle’s heart sank.
It stopped beating when Mikey declared, “When you and Prentice get married, Bella, there better be log throwing.”
Elle stared at the phone with wide eyes and parted lips.
Then she whispered, “Married?”
“Yes, married. You can’t live in sin forever even if it is with a broody-hot guy who, from the sounds of it, is very good at sin,” Mikey noted.
Elle immediately regretted the depth of her sharing.
“Yes, you can, Mikey,” Annie objected.
“No, you can’t, Annie,” Mikey retorted.
“Don’t be so traditional,” Annie replied. “It doesn’t become you.”
Elle wasn’t listening to them.
She was thinking about Prentice and being married.
Having his ring on her finger (again). Belonging in his house. Belonging in his life. Belonging to his children.
Belonging to him.
For always.
She remembered the first time he’d asked and how happy she’d been.
No, not happy, ecstatic, thrilled, overjoyed, over the moon.
This time, older, wiser (both of them) and sensing the beauty of their lives, rather than youthfully expecting it, she wasn’t over the moon.
She was…
There were no words to describe it.
“Married,” she repeated, still whispering.
“Bella?” Annie called but Bella’s eyes remained on the speakerphone.
“Mikey?” she asked softly, “do you think I’ll have my fairytale?”
There was silence for a moment before Mikey replied, “Girlie-girl, of anyone I’ve ever known, except Annie who already got hers, you’re due.”
She was due.
Boy, was she due.
Elle grinned at Annie.
Annie grinned back.
“Hello! What’s happening?” Mikey shouted, Annie and Elle giggled and shortly after they let Mikey go back to sleep and they went shopping.
Prentice called while Elle was in the changing room of the posh clothing shop, about to step into the fourth dress she’d tried on but having a stack of sweaters, jeans and blouses that were in her “to buy” pile.
When she saw his name on the phone, she panicked.
How did she answer? “Hello, Prentice,” or “Hey there,” or “What’s up, Pren?”
She went with, “Hi,” and felt like an idiot.
Proof positive that it was too soon to tell the children she was moving in. She didn’t even know how to answer the phone when Prentice called!
“Baby,” he replied in his soft voice that did sweet, funny things to her system and she immediately stopped feeling like an idiot.
Elle shook off those sweet, funny things and asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Aye. We’ve a booking for six. I’ll be home at quarter to. Can you have the children ready?”
Instantly, Elle was unsure.
She knew what her ready meant but what did his ready mean?
What if she did something wrong?
“By ready, what do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.
“Out of their uniforms, in something presentable and not at each other’s throats.”
Elle sighed in relief. She could probably do that.
Depending, of course, on Sally’s mood.
“Yes, I can have them ready,” Elle replied.
His voice went back to soft when he murmured, “Thanks, baby.” Then he asked, “What are you doing?”
She looked at herself in the changing room mirror and froze.
He was going to think she was a pampered, spoiled rich girl, loads of cash in the bank, no job, nothing to do but shop.
She should be at his house, mopping the floors, making homemade bread, hand washing delicates, inventing wholesome family recipes, not out gallivanting with her best friend and spending hundreds of pounds.
She began hyperventilating.
“Elle, are you there?” he asked.
“Yes,” she wheezed.
“Are you okay?”
No, she was not.
Elle forced herself to sound (somewhat) normal, “Yes.”
“You sounded strange.”
“I’m fine.”
There was a pause and then he asked again, “What are you doing?”
Elle wondered if honesty was the best policy.
Apparently, she wondered too long.
For when Prentice’s voice came at her, he sounded borderline unhappy, “Elle, are you with Annie?”
“Um… yes?” she asked as if he could confirm that she was indeed with Annie.
“What are you doing?”
“Um…” she muttered but didn’t answer.
“Elle.” His voice held a warning.
“We’re shopping,” she blurted then closed her eyes tight.
“For what?” he pressed.
Elle opened her eyes and explained on a rush, “Clothes. See, I didn’t think I’d be staying this long, definitely not staying staying, as in, moving here. I’ve run out of clothes. I’m recycling outfits. I need clothes.”
She held her breath waiting for his answer which came at her in a voice filled with relief.
“Thank God.”
Elle blinked.
Then she enquired, “Thank God?”
“Aye, baby,” he replied softly. “Thank God you and Annie aren’t perusing a litter of border collie puppies for Sally. Or buying her princess dresses. Or arranging five-star accommodation for your trip to London to take Sally to Harrods. Or something equally mad.”
In all that had happened, Elle forgot about the trip to Harrods.
Therefore she breathed, “Oh.” Then went on stupidly, “I’ll have to look into that. Can I use your computer in the study?”
He was chuckling when he replied, “It’s your house now, Elle, you can use anything you want. But don’t you think we should take you back to Chicago to get you packed up before you take Sally to Harrods?”
Elle blinked again before saying, “Chicago?”
“Aye, it’s half-term next week. I reckon we all can go.”
Elle felt her heart contract. Chicago meant Carver Austin. Elle couldn’t imagine her father’s fury when he saw her in photos with Prentice and the children.
No, that wasn’t right, she could. She could easily imagine it and it wouldn’t be pretty.