Picket Fence Promises

“No.”

“Is he still in town?”

“He’s at Charity’s. At least he was last night when I dropped him off. He wanted to have dinner with me, I told him no because I was cutting hair at the Golden Oaks. He met Esther and John, and Esther told me that being a Christian is like bungee jumping—thanks so much for warning me about that—and unless Charity’s bird perched on Alex’s poster bed last night and recited the Ten Commandments, he’s probably lurking around somewhere, ready to pounce on my unsuspecting self. Oh, and Heather called and he answered the phone…”

“Okay, stop right there. My brain can’t take your version of shorthand. Heather talked to him?”

“Sort of. He pretended he was my voice mail. It wasn’t a real conversation. He said he has me cornered. I went back home and decided I’m never going to let him see my apartment.”

“I like your apartment. It’s unique, like you.”

Best friends. Their loyalty is deep but strange.

“I don’t think I’m going to get out of dinner, unless he has to arm wrestle Jim Briggs, then there’s a chance. Alex could probably beat the farmers but Jim has arms like wooden posts, have you noticed that?”

“Why would he arm wrestle Jim Briggs? Never mind. How long is he staying? And why is he here?”

“Answer to both questions—no idea.” I glanced at my appointment book and saw Jill Cabott’s name scrawled between the black lines. Jill always ran a few minutes late. “I’m not even sure how he found me. He said he wanted to tell me how he’s doing.”

“So he came in person. From California.”

“I guess.” Seeing Elise’s expression, I shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense to me, either.”

“Does he want a relationship with you?”

Elise’s words may have been soft but they hit hard. “No!”

“You sound pretty sure.”

“He didn’t ever want a relationship with me.”

Elise frowned. “But you told me that you left him.”

“I did.”

“So, doesn’t that mean you were the one who didn’t want a relationship?”

“I can’t have this conversation without coffee.”

Elise smiled. “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Get in line.”

In the ten minutes of privacy we had before my appointments started, I filled her in on what happened at Sally’s and how Candy threatened to confiscate his luggage and that Jim Briggs wanted me to be careful. By the time I finished, the normally unflappable Elise Penny was looking a bit dazed. I was glad—I’d hate to be the only one.

“So people aren’t falling all over him?”

“Maybe if they’re armed with pitchforks.”

“He’s not going to make the marquee then.” Elise looked disappointed.

“Maybe he will…only it’ll say Go Home Alex Scott.”

“You’re handling all this pretty well.”

I was? “I am?”

“You aren’t falling apart. You aren’t packing your suitcase. You aren’t eating handfuls of Tootsie Roll.”

I’ve learned to dispose of the wrappers. But she was right. “God reminded me of something last night. I don’t have to run away anymore. Now I can run to.”

Elise didn’t flinch or look surprised when I mentioned God. She was getting to know Him better, too. I came across a verse recently that said something about God-chosen lives and what splendid friends they make. Elise was that kind of friend. So were Annie and Esther and John.

There was a flash of color outside the window and the door swung open. “Good morning, ladies.”

Alex. And he looked like he got a decent night’s sleep, too. And he looked like he’d been…running? He was wearing black sweatpants and a gray T-shirt and tennis shoes that would have cost me a month’s rent. His hair was messy and his face flushed with color. And he still looked gorgeous. Honestly, could he be any more annoying?

“You remember my friend, Elise?”

Alex nodded and smiled. “Hi, Elise.”

The day before, I’d been so shocked when I’d seen him that I couldn’t even remember introducing him to Elise and Annie but now I watched him carefully to see his reaction. Usually when men see Elise for the first time, they get a little tongue-tied. Elise is truly beautiful. If God hadn’t planted her in Prichett, Elise could have been as famous as Alex.

The first time we met, I really wanted to hate her but Elise is totally un-hate-able. In the first place, she isn’t one of those beautiful women who flaunt their beauty. And she doesn’t pretend she isn’t beautiful, either, which can be just as irritating. She accepts it just like I accept the way my hair has a stubborn wave that can only be tamed with a curling iron the size of a rolling pin.

My favorite thing about Elise is that there’s more to her than pretty packaging. We’ve been friends for ten years but it wasn’t until Heather contacted me and I started to unravel that I realized that true friends are right there, winding you back up and tucking in the loose pieces of your heart.

Alex was polite but his eyes didn’t linger on Elise, like a tourist getting his first glimpse of the Mona Lisa. What on earth was wrong with him? He was looking at me.

“I almost woke you up to go running with me this morning.”

Elise was too polite to laugh but out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shoulders jiggle. “Well, I better start my day. Sam and I are going over to Munroe to pick up some parts for the tractor.”

“How is Annie feeling?” Mindy would be thrilled that I’d tried out her delay tactics but I really did want to know. I’d been so wrapped up in my own troubles that I hadn’t even thought to ask until now.

“Anxious to start the nursery. With the holidays coming, she’s going to be busier at church.” Elise moved toward the door just as Jill Cabott pushed it open.

“Elise!”

Jill hugged her and Elise disappeared momentarily in the depths of Jill’s sheepskin coat. When she reappeared, she was smiling. Wonders never ceased. A few months ago I practically had to hide my scissors when the two of them were in the same room together. Elise had blamed Jill’s son, Riley, for her daughter Bree having second thoughts about going to college. But Bree and Riley were taking their romance slowly and she was in Madison—at least for the next four years—so Elise could breathe a little easier.

“Hi, Jill. All set?”

“Just let me hang up my coat.”

Elise gave me a little wave that promised we’d get together soon and slipped out the door. Alex was sitting on a chair, his hands clasped behind his head and his legs stretched out in front of him with a cup of coffee wedged between his knees. Right next to the coatrack.

I knew the second Jill realized who Alex was because her sudden gasp sounded like a blown-out tire.