Standing up, I pulled her to stand too, and instructed, “Go back to bed, get some sleep. Be ready to go by nine.”
Elsie’s face scrunched up in confusion. Pulling her toward me, I gently lifted my hand to her face. Elsie swallowed hard and I heard her breathing deepen. “I’m,” I pushed myself to say, “I’m taking you out tomorrow, around Seattle. The Seattle you’ve never seen.”
Elsie’s pink lips parted, and she exhaled a short breath. I froze, thinking she would refuse. When those lush lips lifted into a smile and she nodded her head.
I wanted to kiss her. This close, with that beautiful face beaming up at me, I wanted nothing more than to kiss her pink lips. But I didn’t. Like a coward, I backed away. I thought I saw a flash of disappointment in Elsie’s eyes, but she lowered her head before I could be sure.
Elsie grabbed her pen and paper; I took her hand. I walked her out of the pool house to the kitchen door. I opened the door, and Elsie walked through. When she glanced over her shoulder, I said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Elsie smiled and walked up the stairs to her room. Just as I was about to shut the door, Lexi appeared from the darkened dining room, a sleeping Dante in her arms.
I opened my mouth to say something when Lexi beat me to it. “Dante woke up for a feed a while ago. I was in the dining room when I saw Elsie run by and leave. I panicked at first thinking she was running away, then I saw you by your pool house. Saw you let her inside.”
My face was on fire as Lexi spoke, rocking my nephew in her arms. I didn’t say anything, but I clearly didn’t need to. “You like her. A lot,” Lexi stated. Unable to lie to my brother’s wife, I nodded my head.
Lexi moved closer. “You’re taking her out tomorrow?”
“Yeah.”
Lexi nodded, then went to walk back up the stairs. Before she did, she turned round, and looked like she wanted to say something, but stopped herself. Needing to know what it was, I questioned, “What?”
Lexi looked in the direction of the stairs, in the direction Elsie went, and she said, “I think she’s been through more than we can understand, Lev. I’ve tried to talk to her every day, but she avoids conversation completely.” Lexi sighed and added, “I think she’s really broken inside. Severely. I think there’s something dark in her past that’s haunting her.”
My heart ached, and just as I turned to go back to my room, I whispered, “Then we’re the same. That’s what makes her so special to me.”
“Lev…” I heard Lexi hush out softly, but I was out of the door and into the pool house before she could react.
My mind raced with what Lexi said, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t already see. Elsie didn’t speak, she was too timid and shy. She’d lost her mamma, like I had lost mine. And I could see she was lonely, just like me.
Taking off my jacket, I walked to the table to clear away the mugs, when I saw a piece of paper was lying on the top. I wondered what it was. Suddenly I recognized Elsie’s handwriting.
Moving round the table, I dropped to the seat. The paper was folded in two, my name written across the top.
My heartbeat picked up speed as I opened the paper. At first I was confused by the centralized column of words, then my heart burst apart when I read a poem that Elsie had written:
Alone and lost, appeared this saint,
With pretty gray eyes, darkness can’t taint.
He stole her from cold, from blustering storm,
Kind and gentle, he took her from harm.
Fearful of dark, he created her light,
A jar of gold, chasing demons of night.
Telling stories of love, he brought to her life,
A moment by his side: no pain, no strife.
He gifted her poems, a gesture on whim,
With every word read, she could see only him.
She counted the days until he returned home,
The boy with his light, the girl not alone.
Invisible to all, a shade wandering in dark,
He brought back her faith, with his pure kind heart.
I love poetry, Levi.
Thank you for the book.
Elsie x
I read through the poem three times. I poured over every word, every thought from her heart. Sitting back in the chair, I ran my hand down my face. Then I stared at the clock on the wall, counting down the hours until our date.
Eight hours.
Twenty-four minutes.
Twelve seconds.
Damn torture until I could see her again… and maybe hold her hand.
*
I knocked on Elsie’s bedroom door, and waited for her to answer. I’d had about two hours of sleep by the time I finally closed my eyes, but I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have traded the time spent reading and rereading her poem for all that I had.
With every word read, she could see only him… She counted the days until he returned home…
These lines, these two lines had my head spinning. I’d put the poem in my drawer, keeping it safe—I’d never be throwing it away.