“The truth is, we broke up a few months ago, but because of some money issues—which, I’m sorry, I can’t talk about, even with you—Edward and I agreed to wait a bit before telling people the engagement was off. But I never wanted to break up in the first place, and now he thinks I only want to be with him for the money. But that’s not true.” She squeaked out that last bit and began to cry. “I’m sorry, I just don’t have a lot of people in my life right now that I can confide in, and you seem like such a trustworthy person.”
Elinor was feeling anything but grateful to be singled out for her trustworthiness at the moment. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her backpack and tried to focus on sounding supportive. “So, you’re hoping to patch things up?”
“He’s the love of my life, and I was an idiot to ever let him doubt that. He used to tell me how much he loved me, and I was so fragile, I couldn’t reciprocate. No guy had ever said it to me without expecting something, without using those words to try to manipulate me. But Edward saw the true me, and valued me the way I was. I didn’t intend to monetize our relationship. I was trying to finally put into words how much he meant to me. The success is so bittersweet.” She sniffed. “Sorry, I know I keep talking around the money thing like you already know, but of course you don’t. It boils down to this: I wrote a book about us.”
“Oh.” Elinor insides felt like they were being tossed like a salad. Lucy’s side of things made a lot of sense. And that was the opposite of what Elinor had hoped to hear.
“I hurt him. I took something private and special between the two of us and shared it. And even though he initially gave me permission to do it, I should have seen what it would do to us in the end. Edward’s vulnerable right now. And hurting. It wouldn’t take much to turn his head, and a shiny new relationship would seem a lot more tempting than opening himself back up and trusting me again. I’m so afraid that’s what I’m up against. Do you think it’s too late for us?”
Elinor could see her house up ahead. She wanted to march straight to her bed and crawl under the covers, even though she knew that wasn’t going to be possible. Greta would need her. Marianne would ask questions. Mom would worry. “I don’t know, Lucy. I don’t have a lot of relationship experience to offer.” Nothing as dramatic as Lucy was describing. Nothing as poignant or heartbreaking.
Elinor had chemistry with Edward, but Lucy had a history with him, one Elinor hadn’t expected to sympathize with. “Maybe lay it all out there, like you did with me. Don’t make him try to read your mind. Then at least, you’ll know.”
“You’re right. That’s what I’m going to do. I wish I wasn’t out of town right now. This is definitely an in-person conversation. But I guess it will give me time to think. Thanks for listening, Elinor. You’re better with advice than you give yourself credit for.” And with that, she hung up.
Elinor snapped her flip phone shut and stifled a scream. Suddenly, her simple phone and her sensible shoes and her frugal life felt like they were choking her. She’d made one impulsive decision today. One. And she couldn’t even have that. Once again, the universe was telling her that risks were always bad.
If there was even a sliver of truth in Lucy’s words, then the right thing to do was to step aside and let Edward and Lucy figure themselves out. If he had left things unfinished with Lucy, he wouldn’t be truly ready for something new anyway. It was quite a depressing revelation.
“Elinor!” Greta came running up to meet her with Ian and Dumpling close behind. “We found a bunch of caterpillars trying to cross the road, but they’re so slow, so we helped them along. And Dumpling sniffed them, but she didn’t hurt them. She was like a caterpillar mom. It was so cute.”
Greta’s hair was coming out of her braid in funny tufts and she was smudgy and dirty. Just the sight of her freckled face lifted Elinor’s spirits. The two kids kept talking the rest of the walk home, and Elinor found it easier and easier to set aside her own unhappiness and tuck it away where it couldn’t be dwelled upon. Besides, the hope Elinor felt when she thought about Edward hadn’t died completely, it had only shrunk, put into a compact size to be tucked away for now. Patience was a virtue for a reason. Everything would work out if she could just hold on. She had to believe that, or she’d go mad.
“Elinor,” Greta tugged on her hand, bringing her back to the present. “Ian needs to tell his parents how many of us are coming to the party tomorrow night in their backyard. Marianne says she’s not going if Will’s not going to be there.”
“Why won’t Will be there?”
“He went home, and he won’t be back until Monday.”
Elinor turned to Ian. “I’ll call your mother in a bit. Sorry, we’re not sure on the numbers yet.”
He shrugged. “Okay. But don’t wait too long. She really likes to know these things.” He took Dumpling’s leash from Greta and ran home.
Elinor sighed. She had completely forgotten about the block party until Greta mentioned it, despite the flier on the fridge. Apparently, Sherri meant business when it came to R.S.V.P.s. “Why is Marianne home early?” Elinor asked, frowning at her mom’s car parked in the driveway. “Is Mom home too?”
“No. Marianne said to ask you to go pick up Mom from work when you got home. Marianne came home because she’s not feeling well. She’s in bed.”
Elinor pulled out her phone to check the time. She had a few minutes before she’d need to pick up Mom, but it would have been nice to know in advance. Elinor’s worry eclipsed her irritation, and she ran in to check on Marianne.
Her sister was a lump under the covers, and she moaned when Elinor sat down on Marianne’s bed and nudged what she thought was a shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Marianne peeked out from under the blankets. “I’ve been texting Will all day, and he’s not responding.”
“Maybe his phone is dead.”
“But why would he not notice if his phone died? We always text each other throughout the day. He’s practically married to the thing. The longest he’s ever gone without texting or calling me back was like two minutes. It’s beeneight hours.”
“So, you’re not sick?”
“I have a headache.” Marianne’s tone warned Elinor not to pry further. In Marianne’s mind, her distress was as troubling as any illness anyway.
Elinor reminded herself that she’d been tempted to do the same thing not a half hour ago, to climb in bed and wallow. However, Elinorthoughtabout it. Marianne followed through.
“I’m leaving to pick up Mom. Should I take Greta with me, or are you going to get up and be a good sister?”
“Why are those two mutually exclusive?” Marianne muttered. She threw off her covers in a huff and marched down the hall, hollering, “Greta!”
Good sister won out, just as Elinor had hoped.
