Chapter Eleven
Elijah
The leather chair creaks as I rock back and forth; my fingers fly over the keyboard as I type. I’m editing the rest of the article John has written about the fall festival, adding in pictures from last year’s festivities and grammar-checking.
He put me up to the task about thirty minutes ago before he left for lunch, and he’s just now returning with a paper bag with the Tabitha’s Place logo printed on the side.
If I’m honest, I’m just happyhewent to grab lunch rather than sending me. I’m kind of nervous thinking about seeing Bennett again after our awkward interaction on Saturday.
“You almost finished, boy?” John asks, dropping the paper bag on the desk across from me as he sorts through it.
I try not to bristle at the use ofboy; that’s just how John talks.
“Yeah, almost,” I tell him, and he nods as he hands me a wrapped sandwich.
“Turkey,” is all he says, and I thank him. “How is it goin’ with Rowan Alexander? Get those questions yet?”
I sigh, pushing my laptop aside so I can place my sandwich on the desk.“It’s fine. I’m meeting him for dinner tonight to interview him.”
“Really?” John sounds as if he has a hard time believing me. Just as Bennett did. “I’m surprised. I thought it’d take a lot longer than a week to convince him.”
I shrug, choosing to leave out the part where I went to his house on Friday while taking a bite of my lunch and chewing thoughtfully.
John gave me his thoughts on the situation once: that Rowan isn’t a mean guy. He even said he believes Rowan needs a friend. But I’ve never directly asked him what hisopinionof the man is.
“Sir,” I start after I’ve swallowed my bite of sandwich. “What do you think of him? Rowan, I mean.”
“What do I think?” John repeats the question.
“Yeah. Like, what is your opinion? I know what you say the other locals think, but you’ve never given me your personal thoughts.”
John drops into the leather chair closest to him, humming thoughtfully as he unwraps his own turkey sandwich. After a moment, he shrugs.
“I don’t know if I really have one. I’ve known him his whole life; I knew his parents before they moved away. I think he’s treated a little unfairly, but what can I do about it?” He’s staring at a section of the wall, pulling gently at his beard and seemingly lost in thought as he speaks. “He’s always been very kind, though. The boy helped me when I broke down just outside oftown a few years ago. It was rainin’ and everything. But people don’t care to look past his… peculiar personality.”
I’m nodding, taking in his monologue with great interest.
I get the impression John doesn’t ‘not have an opinion’ of Rowan. I think John really likes him, which makes sense. Why else would he be pushing for this article so insistently?
“I think he’s nice too,” I offer, taking another bite to give my mouth something to do, other than ramble aimlessly.
John stares at me for a moment before he sits up, setting his lunch to the side.
“You know, I’ve never seen or heard of Rowan having a significant other,” he says, and I raise a brow, clocking how he chose to saysignificant otherand not girlfriend.
“Oh?”
“Mhm. Which is sad, because I think he has a lot to offer a person.”
“Huh,” is all I say, because I’m not surewhatto say.
And honestly, I’m still a little bitter over being barred from Rowan’s house. What was that even about?! I’ll never understand that man.
“Speaking of dating,” John not-so-casually interjects, awkwardly looking around the office. “What’s goin’ on with you and Bennett?”
“What?!” I practically trip over the word.
“Don’t act all shy now. I saw the two of you flirtin’ at the diner on Saturday.”
