“Shocking,” Eli says sarcastically.
“Well, I’m still single. What does that say about me?”
“You’re not single. You have me, babe.” He winks, and my heart performs a rather messy somersault.
“We’re not a thing, Eli.”
“No, but you still have me, and that’s all that matters.”
Just then, our soup, salad, and bread are brought out. Eli thanks the server with a very welcoming grin and then picks up his spoon to smash through the crouton top of the soup.
“Are you going to share something with me?” I ask.
He lifts a spoonful of his soup, blows on it, and then takes a mouthful. When he dips his spoon back in his bowl, he says, “When my mom passed away, I was sent to live with her cousin, Marge. She had three children as well, all girls. Because they didn’t trust me, a twelve-year-old boy who just lost his mom, they made a room for me in their barn. It was insulated, so I wasn’t freezing during the winter, but it was lonely. Mom had got me started in hockey when I was about nine, and even though she didn’t make a lot in her job, somehow, she made sure I got to play hockey. Have new skates, equipment. All that stuff. I thought I was going to lose hockey like I lost my mom. It was shit. But I earned money for ice time through chores. I got up early to feed the animals, help with the cows, and after practice and school, I helped Tobias with anything he needed. I learned a lot, but I wasn’t loved. There was no affection shown toward me, and there were many nights when I just went to my barn to watch hockey. Study it, live it.”
Tears are streaming down my cheeks when he glances up at me.
“Shit,” he says as he moves his chair around the table. He picks up my hand and strokes my knuckles with his thumb. “I didn’t tell you that to make you cry. I just wanted you to know that I know what it feels like to feel abandoned.”
“But that’s so awful. You were so alone for six years. How is that fair to you?”
“It wasn’t, but it was the hand I was dealt. I had hockey, and the hard work around the farm grew me into the man I am today. They weren’t abusive—”
“Making you live in a barn by yourself because they were afraid you’d be a sexual predator is abusive, Eli.”
“I guess in a certain way, it is. But they never hurt me. I spent Christmas with them. They bought me simple presents, but they were more of a fostering family than anything. I barely knew them, and they were put in a situation they didn’t ask for.”
“But you step up when put in that kind of situation.” My mind keeps thinking about a twelve-year-old version of Eli with bright blue-green eyes, just looking for anybody to love him, and it splits me in two. Before I know what I’m doing, I throw my arms around him and bury my face into his chest, clinging tight. “I’m so sorry you went through that.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I pay a therapist a lot of money to help me sort through all the bullshit in my head. But I appreciate your compassion.”
I still hold him tight, not sure I’ll be able to let go right away.
He rubs my back softly as he says, “Penny, it’s really okay. I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” My voice is wobbly, and snot drips from my nose.
“Yes.” He chuckles. “I’m sure.”
When I pull away, I reach for my napkin, and I quickly blot at my nose. Eli’s hand remains on my back, ever the protector. “How about after this, we go get some ice cream?”
I nod. “I’d like that.”
“Stop, you did not draw naked women for money,” I say as I sit across from Eli at home. We decided to pick up ice cream at the store and make sundaes. I will not be telling Blakely because I believe this would be considered cheating on her.
“Sure did. I needed the cash. Hockey was expensive, so I did anything to make a buck.”
“Are you good at drawing?”
“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “But I convinced the guys at my school they needed my drawings. They went for ten bucks apiece.”
“Ten dollars? For someone else’s drawing, that they could probably do themselves?”
“Yup. My signature was pointy nipples. The guys loved them. Every girl had really pointy nipples, and it worked for me. I made around five thousand dollars on those things.”
“Wait, what? Five thousand dollars? That means you had to draw five hundred pictures of pointy nipples. When did you have the time?”
“I made the time. Luckily, school came easy to me, so I didn’t have to spend hours upon hours studying. When I was alone in the barn, I’d just start drawing. I’d replicate a lot and sometimes do different variations, but yeah, it was a great moneymaker for me. I have the horny guys in my school to thank for supporting my hockey career.”