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“Hey, Daniel,” Wiladean called from the doorway. “Can you help me with something, honey?”
“Sure, what do you need?”
Now would be as good a time as any to tell Wiladean what they were facing.
“When I was outside tending to the ivy on the wall, I noticed there was something different about one of the balconies. Would you come and have a look?”
The balcony? What could be wrong with the balcony?
He couldn’t help himself. His mind flashed back to that first morning when he’d seen Elle on the balcony off her room.
He blinked hard. He’d promised himself he wasn’t going to do that. He still loved her. Always had. Always would. And because he loved her, he needed to let her figure out things. But it was difficult to give her space when she was living in his head. So, he tried not to think of her.
“You okay, hon?” Wiladean asked.
“I’m fine,” he said as they stepped off the stone front porch steps into the front yard.
“Oh, good, because I need you to look up there and tell me what you see.”
He squinted up in the direction she was pointing. It was at Elle’s balcony.
“Wiladean, I’m sorry, I don’t see anything wrong. Can you be more specific? What am I looking for?”
“Really? You can’t see that? It’s glaring. Are you sure you don’t have something in your eye?”
“No, I don’t.” He started to shade his eyes, but Wiladean grabbed his arm.
“Here, come across the street with me. Maybe you’ll be able to see it better from the park.”
“Maybe I should go upstairs to the balcony and take a look close up?”
But she was already pulling him into the empty street, across the sidewalk and onto the grass. As he started to turn around, he saw Elle sitting on a blanket with a picnic basket at her side and a small tabletop easel with a canvas on her lap.
“There’s Elle,” he said.
“Well, yeah,” Wiladean said, as if he’d pointed out the Forsyth fountain a few yards behind her. “That’s who I’ve been trying to get you to see all along.”
“But you asked me to look at the balcony.”
“Did I say balcony? I meant for you to look at the park. Oh, well, go on over there and you kids have a nice picnic.”
“A picnic? She didn’t invite me on a picnic.” She was painting. He didn’t want to disturb her. But then she raised a hand in greeting. He did the same.
“Go on, now,” Wiladean said. “I think she’s making that painting for you.”
He felt almost as bad for Wiladean as he did for himself. She had tried so hard to get the two of them together. But it wasn’t going to be. Not right now, anyway. Of course, the county was going to call her and offer her something. She was good at everything she did. They’d be crazy to let someone like her get away.
He’d be crazy to let someone like her get away. But it was out of his control. He wasn’t going to force her into anything she didn’t want. And she’d turned down his proposal—as unconventional as it was. When it came to relationships, she seemed scared to death of going down the traditional path again after Roger had done such a number on her.
When Elle motioned for him to come closer, he went to her.
“Hi,” she said. “Thanks for coming out here. Do you have a minute to sit and talk?”
“I always have time for you.”
As he sat down, she moved her easel to the side. The canvas was facing away from him and he couldn’t see what she was working on, but he was too busy trying to figure out how to say his bit about wanting to give the long-distance romance a try when she opened her basket and took out two red cups.
She handed one to him. “What’s this?”
“It’s champagne. I know it’s midday and you’re working, but I have news. And I can’t imagine celebrating it with anyone else but you.”
His gut twisted, because he knew what she was about to say.
“You know how I said I was going to leave my decision about whether to stay or go up to fate?”
“You got a job.” He tried to infuse enthusiasm into his voice, but he wasn’t sure if he was successful.
