Page 14 of Letters of Faith
I sweep my arm out in front of me, gesturing for her to come in, all while praying for the patience of Job.
In the year that I’ve been living here, Harper hasn’t been here once. Ellie has, but never Harper—not that I expected anything different.
“Where’s Cole?” I ask, closing the door behind her.
A flash sparks through her eyes at the question, and it takes me a minute to recognize that it’s pain. By the time I realize, though, Harper already has her face twisted into a mask of indifference.
“He’s visiting a friend out of town,” she says, distaste clear in how she says the word friend.
If we had a better relationship, I wouldn’t hesitate to ask what’s happening between her and Cole, but Harper’s dislike for me doesn’t allow for that type of relationship. She doesn’t let anyone behind those steel walls of hers, and if I were to ask, she’d likely bite my head off.
Instead, I extend the olive branch with a simple, “If you need anything while he’s gone, let me know.”
Her only answer is a sharp “humph” as I walk to the kitchen. Standing by the refrigerator, I turn to offer her a drink, but before I can, she says, “You’re awfully cozy here, aren’t you? Are you ever planning on returning to the house you bought with my brother? You do remember him, right?”
And that right there is the problem. I offer an olive branch, and she snaps it in two.
I grit my teeth to keep from retorting. I’m used to Harper’s comments. It does no good to respond to her because it only eggs her on—I’ve watched her with Grayson enough times to know that. The two get along like oil and water.
Another knock at the door saves me from having to make nice, though.
Turning my back to her, a dangerous decision, I walk over to the door, open it, and usher Ellie in.
She’s in her fifties, but life has been cruel to her, leaving worry lines creasing her face. Her shoulders are hunched forward from the weight she’s carried for so long. First, her husband left, and then she had to deal with her only son dying. The woman deserves the world, but she was handed hell instead. Her gray hair frames her face in a bob, and her shoulders are hunched forward.
Once she’s inside, she wraps her arms around me, squeezing tight enough that I might shatter.
“Oh, darling. It’s so good to see you.”
The tightness of my chest starts to dissipate as I laugh into her hair.
“You see me every Sunday, Ellie.”
“Oh hush, if I had it my way, I would see you girls every day, but I know you each have your own lives to live,” she says, keeping one arm around my waist as she lets go and looks over at Harper.
“Some more than others,” Harper says into the drink she helped herself to.
“Harper,” Ellie scolds.
Harper throws her hands up, pretending to be innocent. It’s her go-to look.
Ellie shakes her head and turns to look at me. “I brought food. It’s in the car. Why don’t you come help me bring it in?”
I glance at Harper, who’s made her way to the living room, picking up items and then placing them back where she got them. I think aboutthe letter I shoved in the book, and for a second, I worry she might find it. It’s not that I’m trying to hide it, but Harper is pessimistic about most things. I don’t want her to ruin Nate’s words to me. The car is just outside, though, and I doubt she will find it in the time it takes for us to go out there and come back.
Giving Ellie a small smile, I take her arm and lead the way.
Outside, I shiver against the night air, rubbing my hands together to keep warm. I should’ve slipped on a jacket before coming out here. Fall has faded into winter, and the chilliness from the weeks before has taken on a biting edge.
As Ellie opens her trunk and places food in my arms, I can’t help but glance over at the main house in search of any sign of life from Grayson. The lights are off, and there’s no movement in the windows. It makes me wonder where he is—if he’s okay.
Ellie places one more bag in my hand as I firm up my resolve to check on Grayson after Harper and Ellie leave.
“You know she doesn’t mean it, right?” Ellie asks, slamming the trunk shut.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, debating the best way out of this conversation. I know Harper is Ellie’s daughter and Nate’s sister, but the woman is difficult. I don’t like putting Ellie in the middle, just like I didn’t like putting Nate in the middle when he was alive. Harper has her own issues, but she continuously walks a fine line between making them mine.
Her attitude was one thing Nate and I always fought about. It wasn’t that he defended her, but she was better at hiding her disdain for me in front of him. Now that he’s gone, she lets her barbs flow freely, and Ellie gets stuck between us. I try to hold my tongue so that she doesn’t have to choose because I already lost Nate. I don’t want to lose her too.
