Page 44 of The Rules We Broke
I thought of Aunt Lu and smiled. Yes, she was sick. But feisty as ever.
“She’s doing as well as can be expected,” I said. “She’s scheduled for angioplasty tomorrow.”At least she better be.“Her doctor expects a full recovery.”
He patted my arm. “Excellent news. Please let us know if we can help in any way.” He turned and returned to the black walnut pulpit, his shoes echoing quietly down the aisle.
A few moments later, Caroline tiptoed over. “My mommy says I can sit with you, if that’s okay,” she whispered. “I didn’t want you to be by yourself.”
A Jackson on the Eaton side. Unheard of.
I glanced at her parents. Both smiled warmly.
My chest tightened. This sweet little girl had no idea what this meant to me. “Yes, of course you can.”
She scooted in close, and I wrapped an arm around her small shoulders. Her grandma didn’t look thrilled judging by her pinched expression. I didn’t care.
Brady kept turning around to smile. The fool.
I focused on the pastor as he asked for prayers for Aunt Lu, announcing her surgery to the entire congregation. I winced. Pretty sure that wasn’t meant for public consumption.
Still, knowing this town . . . by tomorrow, I’d probably have fifteen casseroles stacked on the porch. At least I wouldn’t have to worry about feeding myself.
The sermon was solid. It would’ve been better if I didn’t feel like I was on display in a museum—Kaysville’s Most Talked About Rule-Breaker, now open for viewing.
I couldn’t imagine why I was still so interesting to these people.
Yes, I broke the rules once. In a very public way. Brady and I hadn’t exactly been subtle. And sure, I rattled some cages with my prom stunt. But I’d never broken the law. I was valedictorian. I’d even built a good life for myself. Lonely, but good.
Still, the stares came from both sides of the church.
Caroline fidgeted beside me. I didn’t blame her. I was half tempted to scoop her up and escape to the playground behind the building. We could’ve swung on the swings and giggled about nothing.
But that would’ve locked in my title as a perpetual rebel—and probably sent the Jacksons into cardiac arrest.
Not that I cared what they thought. I wasn’t dating their son. Not anymore.
But I looked down at Caroline and really looked.
Here she was, a Jackson sitting with an Eaton on the Eaton side. The phrase, “And a little child shall lead them,” came to mind. It gave me some hope that maybe things wouldn’t always be so divided in this town. Maybe the next generation would do it better. I remembered all the grand plans Brady and I had made to change Kaysville, but that’s all they would ever be—plans.
During the closing hymn, Caroline sang with all her might—off-key and proud. Just happy to be doing something. I smiled and let myself wish. Wish for one of my own.
After the prayer, I gave her a tight hug. “Thanks for sitting with me. You better scoot off to Sunday School.”
She nodded, grinned, and skipped toward her parents—completely unaware she’d just healed a little piece of me.
I had a line of people waiting to speak to me. I was embarrassed to admit—I didn’t remember most of their names.
Still, they were kind. Each asked about Aunt Lu, offering help with anything I might need.
I told them we were covered. We had Doris, and honestly, I wasn’t high maintenance.
But then came David Mayfield. Him, I remembered.
One of Brady’s oldest friends. One of the first to welcome me into their circle when Brady and I went public—and the rare few who stayed kind after the breakup.
“Wow, Ellie Eaton,” he said, with that familiar grin, “you look terrific.”
I smiled. “Thank you. It’s just Elle now.”
