Mere days are all it took.
I shouldn’t be surprised, but the sincerity he’s displayed since he got here almost had me convinced. I was believing again.
I allow myself to absorb the fresh sting as a reminder while I pull a match from the box. This is what Eli does. What he’s always done, and who he is.
The only relationship stamina Eli Welch ever had was in the bedroom. It kills me that I even considered giving him a chance for a real conversation. Resignation takes over as I strike the match, drop it, and walk away.
“I’m here,” I chirp at my mother, where she stands in the kitchen, sounding off a list of ingredients to Eli as he types them into his phone.
“What’s going on?” I ask. Eli doesn’t so much as glance my way as I look between them.
“Stealth mission,” Mom pipes tracing one of Grammy P’s recipe cards with her finger, “and I’m sending my strongest troops.”
Deflating at the idea of spending more time trapped in the car with Eli, I woman up and nod as Serena prances into the kitchen with Thatch on her heels.
“Mom, it’s just a trip to the grocery store,” Serena admonishes. “Whit and I can handle it.”
Mom looks between us, brows rising. “Can either of you change a tire?”
“No, but I can dial Triple-A,” I sass.
“Well, with these two coming, you won’t have to.”
“I’ll go get Peyton,” Serena says.
“No, your father has whisked him away. They’re busy. Conner and Gracie are stringing popcorn. This is an adult-only trip. In and out, the store is probably a madhouse today.” She turns to Eli. “And toothpicks,” Mom adds. “Got all that, handsome?”
Eli grins, clearly fond of his nickname. “Got it.” He pockets his cell in his dark-washed jeans as I try not to notice his impeccable dress.
“Good.” Mom nods. “Shop smart, kids. Last chance.”
“On it,” I say, as the four of us head toward the front door gathering our coats from the hall tree as Brenden speaks up from the recliner.
“You guys mind picking up diapers for Wyatt?” Brenden stands and opens his wallet, and Eli shakes his head. “I’ve got it man.”
“Thanks,” Brenden says, reclaiming his seat and picking up the remote.
“You could help Mom, asshat,” Serena snaps. “You haven’t lifted a damn finger since you’ve been here.”
“It’s called Christmas vacation,” Brenden defends indignantly as Thatch hisses Serena’s name in warning.
“He’s as lazy as the days are long,” Serena declares, her eyes zero in on Erin, who sits on the couch feeding Wyatt a bottle. “I don’t know how you put up with it. I feel sorry for you, sister,” she adds before stalking out the front door.
“Great,” I mutter, knowing something must have triggered Serena in the last hour as we all haul ourselves out the door. Thatch unlocks their idling SUV as we all pile in, the cabin already warm due to Thatch’s consideration. Serena has no idea how lucky she is to have someone willing to brave the cold to ensure she’s warm—to open the impossible pickle jar, carry the bulk of the heavy load. Little things men do to care for their women. Things that are taken for granted over time by those in a relationship. Things that make a single girl envious. I guarantee a week without Thatch would remind Serena just how much she relies on him—of how those little things add up. In truth, it goes both ways, and Thatch would be just as lost without her.
Eli and I stare out of our respective windows for the first few minutes of the drive—which would be fine if Serena and Thatch were speaking to fill the void. Eli pulls out his cell and begins typing away on his phone, grinning when a return text message comes in. He hasn’t so much as looked at me since our run-in this morning. It seems I don’t exist for the moment—which I decided this morning was for the best. Instead of mulling over the ancient dead horse, I try to thaw some of the inch-thick ice between Thatch and Serena.
“How are things at work, Thatch?”
“The usual. Nothing interesting. Got a long list of projects lined up next spring, but I can’t say I’m not happy about the downtime.”
“That’s so awesome. I’m proud of you.”
His grin is genuine. “Thanks, sis.”
One day, hopefully in the not-so-distant future, I plan on charging my brother-in-law with the task of building my dream home.
“What about you, sis? How’s the admin side going?”