Page 23 of The Art of Loving Ellie
There's very little she can't do, and although she never married, she has had a few partners—none of which were memorable to me. Which is why I find it odd that Richard is hanging around here. I make a mental note to inquire about their relationship later on.
“Come on,” she gently squeezes my shoulder, “let’s get you settled upstairs.”
We grab my things and walk up the dark wooden steps, and as if this house couldn’t be any more amazing, when we make our way to the top, I gasp at the beautiful library in the big, loft-like space separating the two bedrooms.
“Aunt Jane!” I exclaim in disbelief.
She smirks, leaning against the wooden railing. “Cool, huh?”
That’s the understatement of the century. I walk into the space, letting my gaze settle on the magnificence of it all. To left and right, stand two giant built-in bookcases, with white double doors in the center that lead out on to the balcony. I notice a small, circular table with two chairs by the bookcase to my right, and there’s a tea tray sitting on top with delicate little teacups and dainty jars of what I assume are different tea leaves. The space feels like a dream; homey and beautiful all at once.
She motions to either side. “You can take whichever room you’d like. I’ll meet you on the balcony for tea later when you’re ready.” Squeezing my arm she moves to walk back down the stairs. “Oh, and Ellie?” I turn toward her, my smile still firmly in place. “I’m so happy you’re here baby girl.” I watch her make her descent down the stairs, and my heart begins to overflow with joy.
When I was a little girl, I would visit her when she was in between one adventure and the next, but it was never enough time. I always secretly prayed that she would someday scoop me up and take me away from the hell I was living daily. But now that I’m older, I realize that wouldn’t have been fair to her, and it wasn’t her responsibility, no matter how badly I wished that it was.
Entering the room on the right, I set my things down and climb onto the comfortable queen size bed that beckons me to close my eyes and rest. My mind wanders, and I imagine my exhaustion seeping through me, deep into the mattress where I can pretend it doesn’t exist.
I’m happy to be here, but anxiety pulls underneath my skin, causing an itching sensation that’s manifesting only in my head. I’m at a loss with what to do about Robert’s sudden interest in my life, and even though I won’t dare admit it out loud, I already miss Tyler. I let out a deep sigh, desperately wishing I could wrap myself up in the quilted comforter I’m lying on and just hide away for a little while.
I fall into a fitful sleep, tossing and turning until a gentle knocking at the door startles me awake. Sitting straight up, my heart hammers wildly in my chest and I glance out the window to gauge the time. Judging by how close the sun is to setting, I’m guessing I was asleep for longer than I thought.
I blink my eyes a few times, focusing on my aunt’s housekeeper whose cheeks are flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry to disturb you, dear, I just wanted to let you know that your aunt is waiting for you outside. I’ve made some tea and biscuits for you both.”
“Thank you, Helen.” Standing, I change into some pajamas and grab the quilt I was wrapped up in, and make my way out to the balcony to meet Aunt Jane.
When I open the double doors, I notice there are two identical hanging bench swings on each side of the balcony, and a large round table sits between them with the tray full of snacks Helen promised me. I eagerly grab a glass of sweet iced tea, and gulp down several sips, savoring the sugary sweetness. Up north, the only sweet tea that you’ll find is a mix of regular brewed tea with an added Splenda packet. I internally cringe at the thought. Aunt Jane might actually disown me if I ever told her I’ve tried it that way.
“Come have a seat, baby! I want to hear all about your adventures in New York.” She’s patting the spot beside her on the swing excitedly, and her bright smile drags me toward her like a magnet. Snagging us both a biscuit and honey, I walk over and curl up beside her, noticing that the temperature has dropped a bit since the sun has started to go down. It’s a beautiful evening, and I hear the sounds of various wildlife off in the distance. Aunt Jane’s house rests on ten acres of land so there’s no telling what’s lurking around out there.
“Well…” I stuff a portion of the biscuit into my mouth in an act of nervousness, and she’s wide-eyed watching me as she laughs. I want so badly to tell her how successful I’ve been, and how I’ve created so many wonderful paintings in the last six and a half months, that Alex doesn’t even know what to do with them all. Choking down the rest of the biscuit, I decide that I can’t lie to the one person responsible for giving me this opportunity to begin with. “To be honest, I feel like a complete failure.”
Her brows come together in confusion, and she shakes her head, “No, I refuse to believe that. You could never be a failure, Elizabeth.”
I grab her hand, feeling the secret I’ve been keeping from her constricting my throat. “New York is wonderful, and the work I’m doing with Alexandre is going well… but it’s not the work I was sent there to do.”
I’m such a coward; I can’t even look at her. “I can’tpaint anymore, Aunt Jane. I’m completely lost and unmotivated, and it’s like… I have these ideas and concepts that I want to work on, but for the first time in my life, the thought of picking up a paintbrush scares the crap out of me!
“I love Alexandre so much, and I’m lucky that he has been so supportive—but I can feel his frustration with me. The whole point in moving there was for me to become an addition to his main gallery, not his errand girl working the events.” There’s so much more I want to confess, but I wring my hands trying to stop from unloading the rest of my negative thoughts on to her.
She squeezes my hand gently, reassuring me. “I can see there’s more than that bothering you.”
That’s so like her—cutting straight to the quick and wanting to get everything out before giving me her advice. I’m reluctant to bring up my questionable relationship with Tyler, so instead, I tell her about my recent phone call with Robert.
“Have you talked to Robert recently…?” I let go of her hand to play with the edge of the quilt anxiously.
She pauses a few heartbeats before answering me softly, “Your father and I spoke a few months ago when—” she pauses, seeming to think about whether or not she should continue. “When he told me that he’s moved back to Texas.”
The information startles me. “H—He's here, in Texas?”
She nods her head in confirmation. “He’s living in San Antonio now.” For a second, I’m thankful that she didn’t say he's living here in town.
“Yeah, well, he called me out of the blue; telling me that he’s changed, and that he was just checking in on me.” I purposely leave out his accusation that I’ve been abusing the money she has given me. I know that they’re still close, regardless of her disapproval of his lifestyle choices, and there’s no point in me causing a rift between them out of my own anger.
“What did you say?” She asks, genuinely curious, but I have a feeling my response is going to disappoint her.
“I told him that I don’t need him checking up on me." I roll my ponytail around my finger and lean back on the bench, silent for a moment. “We’ve spoken to each other so little in the last four years… I figured he was as done with me, as I am with him.”
The sun has set now, and the only light we have surrounding us are a couple of unscented candles on the table and the moon shining brightly above us. Aunt Jane takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, her eyes looking troubled. “Robert wasn’t always there for you—hell, I know that’s a huge understatement, but I think you should talk with him, and try and see if there’s anything between you two worth salvaging.” She runs a hand through her long hair, turning her eyes to mine.
