“Everyone’s out of the way, Grandma,” Brandon teased.
“Who are you, Marianne?” Elinor elbowed him. It was exactly the sort of thing Marianne would say if she were here.
She immediately regretted mentioning her sister, but Brandon only smiled. “I think what you’ve made here is pretty great, Elinor. I’m glad you forced me into coming that first time.”
“Thanks.” Elinor didn’t feel like a creator so much as a scrappy sheep dog herding a flock of velociraptors, but it was nice all the same.
The car passing by slowed to a stop, and the driver leaned out the passenger side window. “What are you guys protesting?” he hollered.
Various answers were thrown back, including boredom, the government, and small pockets on women’s jeans. Amen, sister. Amen.
“Are you doing okay, Greta?” Elinor asked.
“I was just thinking how much Dumpling would love this. So many ankles to bite.” Greta’s words came out in huffs and puffs, but she would never ask them to slow down. It wasn’t in her nature.
Elinor eased her pace, and Brandon automatically slowed to match. It put them closer to the guy who wore a portable speaker around his neck and blasted country music. Tonight, he had his cowboy hat on and foam covers for his running shoes that looked like giant cowboy boots. Greta’s observations on him, and so many other things, made running a lot more entertaining than usual, and Elinor finally began to relax, at least until she glanced back and spotted Edward and Lucy. They were chatting with another couple running alongside them. Edward lifted his and Lucy’s joined hands and kissed the top of hers. She beamed up at him as if he held the world in his eyes, and he looked down at her the same way.
Elinor knew she shouldn’t watch. Edward wouldn’t want her to. It was all fake. He’d reassured her of it this morning. But it sure didn’t look fake, and Lucy was determined it wouldn’t be in the end. She had already successfully recommitted him to making their engagement look believable. And for what? Money? Loyalty? Edward was a man of his word, but this… Elinor hated how disappointed she felt. How uncertain about where she stood. Maybe it was better to just retreat until they were strictly employee and boss, friendly neighbors who waved from across the street. It would make it easier on everyone involved.
Part of her rebelled against it, the hopeful, probably-in-love-with-him part. But it was also sort of a relief, to step away from the high risk of heartbreak. What should she do?
Elinor was grateful when her cell phone began to ring, forcing her to look away from Edward and Lucy, but her relief only lasted a few seconds. Marianne was calling.
“Did you make it?” Elinor asked in greeting.
“Yes. Finally. Jenny’s letting me stay with her until I figure out a place of my own.”
“Who’s Jenny?” Elinor glanced up at Brandon, but if he was listening, he was doing a good job of pretending he wasn’t. In fact, he went one further and jogged with Greta a few feet ahead to give her conversation a little privacy.
“Sherri’s mom.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“Yeah. Except it feels like extortion, like my gratitude means she has someone to endlessly talk to who has no choice but to laugh at her jokes.”
“Marianne!”
“I’m outside unloading the car. She can’t hear me.”
“Treat that lady nicely, Marianne.”
“Oh, I will. She’s done so much for me that if she asked me to shave my head and donate my hair to her doll collection, I’d do it.”
Elinor laughed. “I bet you would.” Dare she ask about Will? No. It was better to wait until Marianne brought him up. The fact that she hadn’t was troubling enough.
“I’m already acting as her personal butler. I thought I brought a lot of stuff. Jenny’s suitcase weighs a thousand pounds. Hold on, I’m going to put my phone down.”
Elinor used the pause to check on Greta, but she was staying right where she should be, next to Brandon. Along with the glow-in-the-dark bracelets, Greta had light up shoes. Or shoe. One side didn’t light up anymore. The poor dear was overdue for a new pair.
“Okay, I’m back,” Marianne said, out of breath. “I can’t believe I’m here. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight with everything on my mind.”
“Like job hunting?”
“Ugh, is that what you think about at night?”
“Yes, along with mentally matching sock pairs. It’s very soothing.” Elinor knew it wasn’t healthy, her tendency to lecture and Marianne’s tendency to jab right back, but what was the alternative? Not talking?
“Is it cold there?” Elinor asked, changing the subject. Yes, she was asking about the weather. She couldn’t get safer than that, except to maybe pay attention, because at that moment Elinor tripped over the curb and went flying. Her phone hit the ground, along with her body, and the last bit of her dignity.
