As he sanded the edges, she cleaned the boards, inspecting all the carvings. “SL and AW ’82.” She used a small carving tool to accent the apostrophe. “Ryder, wow, here’s one from 1900. Fritz and Golda.” She looked up at him, surprised by her emotions. “We forget history didn’t begin the day we were born. That people lived and loved decades, centuries before us.”
“The fire tower was built in the 1870s, long before Cheatham WMA existed. A blaze almost wiped out Hearts Bend with its one street and two shops.”
“Can I ask you something?” Elizabeth said. When Ryder looked around from where he sanded the edge of a board, his lopsided smile reminded her of a young 1950s movie star. “Why is the tower so important to you?”
He set down the sander and reached for his water bottle. “When I was a kid, mad at my parents for leaving again, I’d ride my bike up here. Made my nannies furious. I’d climb up, pretend to look out for fires or someone in distress, and in my own way, talk to God. The tower was my sanctuary. I noticed new initials every now and then, and I started looking at all of them, realizing love wasn’t something given when it was convenient, but something people committed to for their whole lives.” He shuffled through the boards until he found the one he wanted. “This one…JCH and SLF, 7/1958 ’til death 7/2005. That’s when I knew not all initials were made by googly-eyed lovers recently engaged, but by people who’d gone the distance.”
“And you want that to be you one day.” In that moment, she saw straight through Ryder Donovan and fell a little bit in love.
“Sounds stupid, but I’m hopeful.” He reached for the sander. “That I’ll fool a girl into marrying me.”
“She’d be the fool to say no.” This was not going the way she’d planned.
They were silent for a moment. The good kind where she didn’t feel the need to talk. Ryder held up the board he’d just sanded. “If you have any ideas how to arrange them in the tower, let me know.” Then, “So, are you preparing for when Wharton accepts you?”
“Not yet. Don’t want to jinx it, you know?” She tried to absorb his confidence, but she was beginning to wonder if her acceptance would ever come. “Ryder, do you ever fear some things are just not meant to be?”
“Yeah, I do,” Ryder said. “Every day.”
10
The next week, Elizabeth gathered her courage to call Wharton, to see if she could nudge along her acceptance. Didn’t they know it was mid-July and a girl needed an answer? But administration assured her that wait-listed students would be informed of their status in time for the fall term.
So she occupied herself with work. She’d not say it out loud, but she enjoyed working at Dorsey Furniture, being around the family—despite her grousing—and getting to know all of the longtime, devoted Dorsey employees.
There wasn’t a week that went by without a birthday or wedding anniversary celebration, or some employee milestone. The lunchroom was perpetually filled with cake and balloons.
This afternoon, Ethan popped into her office. “Are you counting the days until you go?” She didn’t have to ask about where.
“Almost.” Elizabeth fixed on a smile. “Trying to enjoy the lull before the storm of classes, study groups, research papers, all-nighters.” She was starting to hate this facade.
“We’ve been talking around here and decided to throw you a Good Luck at Wharton send-off.” His goofy jig made her laugh. “We’ll celebrate.”
“I think Dorsey employees are addicted to cake.” But she appreciated the gesture.
“Lots of cake. And balloons.” He leaned close like he was telling a secret. “Maybe even a DJ.”
“A DJ?” Elizabeth shuffled the papers on her desk. “Sounds like you’ll be happy to get rid of me.”
“What? No, we just want to…Really? Will offered you the job as CFO because we want you to stay. We just know you got to do what you got to do.”
“Eh, I was kidding.” She shuffled and stacked the same papers. “Does, um, Will still want me as CFO?”
She’d not talked to him since the offer for fear of leading him on, but it would be nice to hear more details.
“The job is yours if you want it, Beth,” Ethan said. “Think about it.”
She was beginning to feel she’d hamstrung herself by only applying to Wharton for her MBA. It’s just she didn’t want to go anywhere else. Jordie had tried to talk her into applying to Kellogg, but she was so sure Wharton was a lock.
Okay, backup plan. It was time. If Wharton didn’t take her off the wait-list, she’d apply to Kellogg and other schools for next year. She’d considered Notre Dame, but who did she know in Indiana? Boston University had a good program, but that meant she’d be back home. And after being sick for two years, she was ready for adventure.
Besides, she wanted to forget the years she battled Epstein–Barr, thinking she’d recovered only to fade again.
As for figuring out her life, Pops and Granny thought faith played a big part. Dad and Mom trusted in reason and intellect. From what Elizabeth saw of her cousins like Will, Ethan, and Jeff, faith, intellect, and reason worked together.
Elizabeth grabbed her phone to text Ethan, bundling her faith with her intellect that Wharton would see reason and accept her into their fall program.
>>>Elizabeth: Get a DJ who plays ’80s music.
