152 A Tentative Truce, A Lingering Gaze
“My throat hurts,” Shanice whispered to Elara, leaning her small body against Elara’s
side.
Through the rearview mirror, Beck watched as both his passengers fell asleep. His eyes lingered on Elara’s peaceful face–the tension that usually marked her expression completely absent in sleep. A strand of her hair had fallen across her cheek, and he found himself wishing he could brush it away.
Beck shook his head. “No, not at all. I was just… making conversation.”
“Just talking,” Beck answered.
They moved away from the fire, finding a patch of tall grass at the edge of the clearing. Elara demonstrated how to weave the blades into delicate butterfly shapes, patient as Shanice’s small fingers fumbled with the technique.
The woman smiled knowingly, making Elara shift uncomfortably on the log.
“Cora?” Shanice asked, remembering the name from earlier.
Elara sat up, her hair disheveled from sleep. “Is she okay?”
“Yes,” Elara replied. “The fire helps.”
“Children get sick,” Elara replied, careful not to disturb Shanice. “It’s not your fault.”
The innocent question pierced Elara’s heart. “No. She’s… interested in different things
now.”
As they walked toward the glowing light in the distance, Elara wrapped the coat tighter around herself. The weight of it felt comforting, though she’d never admit it. The gentle rocking of the car and her own broken sleep from the night before soon made Elara’s eyelids heavy. Despite her efforts to stay awake, she found herself drifting off, her head tilting until it rested lightly against the window.
“I like making them with you,” Shanice declared, holding up her crooked but recognizable butterfly creation.
Elara hesitated before accepting it. “Thank you.”
152 A Tentative Truce, A Lingering Gaze
Elara blinked back unexpected tears. “I like making them with you too.”
“Look! It’s huge!” Shanice pointed at the roaring bonfire that illuminated the small clearing where other campers had gathered.
Elara stroked her hair. “The doctor will make it better soon.”
In the car, Shanice insisted on sitting next to Elara in the back seat. The little girl’s head soon drooped onto Elara’s shoulder as she drifted to sleep, congested breaths coming in small puffs.
The three of them found a spot on one of the logs arranged in a circle around the fire. Shanice sat between Elara and Beck, her eyes wide with wonder at the dancing flames.
“It’s fine,” Elara replied automatically, the response she’d perfected over years of uncomfortable situations. “Damien’s name doesn’t send me into a tailspin anymore.”
Beck looked uncertain. “Shanice, Ms. Elara might want her space.”
“Please?” Shanice looked at Elara with pleading eyes, punctuated by another sneeze.
Some boundaries, he reminded himself, weren’t meant to be crossed.
“Does she still make them?”
Beck was immediately at her side, feeling her forehead. “You’ve caught a cold, sweetheart.”
“You three make such a beautiful family,” an elderly woman commented from across
the fire.
Shanice’s eyes widened in alarm. “No! I want Ms. Elara to come with us!”
Between Shanice’s miserable expression and Beck’s apologetic one, Elara found herself relenting. “I’ll come with you to the hospital first.”
After Beck’s awkward phone call with Lucas, the atmosphere turned chilly–and not just from the mountain air.
“That’s boring too,” Shanice declared. She tugged at Elara’s sleeve. “Can you show me how to make those grass butterflies again?”
His fingers hovered, inches from her skin. Her lashes fluttered again, and he quickly pulled his hand back, heart pounding as though he’d been caught doing something
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152 A Tentative Truce, A Lingering Gaze
forbidden.
Grateful for the interruption, Elara smiled. “Of course. Let’s find some long pieces of
grass.”
“Since college,” she said. “We’ve been friends and business partners for years.”
Elara’s eyes remained on the fire. “It is. We’re making good progress.
“Are you warm enough?” Beck finally asked.
“So,” Beck tried again, “Julian mentioned your new project at YodaVision is going well.”
“I want to sleep next to Ms. Elara,” she insisted, dragging her sleeping bag closer to where Elara had set up hers.
“Stay where I can see you,” Beck instructed, watching as his niece scampered off.
Shanice soon spotted other children playing nearby and turned to Beck. “Can I go play with them?”
Beck looked skeptical but nodded. “Still, this weekend was supposed to be about getting away from all that.”
Elara nodded, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. “Yes. When she was about your age, we used to make dozens of these and hang them from her bedroom ceiling.”
“Just friends?” Beck asked, then immediately looked like he regretted the question. “My daughter used to love making these,” Elara said softly, helping Shanice twist the
grass.
Later that night, back at the cabin, Shanice refused to go to her own sleeping bag.
“Just a cold, I think,” Beck said, though concern lined his face. “We should probably get back to the city earlier than planned.”
“I’m sorry about this,” Beck said quietly from the driver’s seat. “Not exactly the relaxing getaway I promised.”
Elara turned to face him directly. “Yes, just friends. Is that important?”
Shanice beamed triumphantly at her uncle before settling down beside Elara.
“I’m sorry about the call earlier,” Beck finally said. “Lucas doesn’t always think before he
152 A Tentative Truce, A Lingering Gaze
speaks.”
Elara nodded, already gathering her things. “I can drive back on my own if take her to a doctor.”
Another stretch of silence followed.
you
want to
Now alone with Beck, Elara felt the weight of silence between them. The crackling fire filled the void where conversation should be. After Lucas’s call had brought Damien’s name into their peaceful retreat, the invisible wall between them had solidified again.
The crackling fire filled another awkward silence.
Beck cleared his throat. “That’s right.”
At a stoplight, Beck turned slightly in his seat. Elara’s lashes fluttered slightly against her cheeks as she dreamed. Before he could stop himself, his hand reached toward her face, drawn to that wayward strand of hair.
“Uncle Beck,” the little girl called out, her voice congested. “My nose is running.”
Elara stiffened. “Oh, we’re not-”
“Shanice, Ms. Elara might have plans-” Beck started.
The light turned green, and Beck faced forward again, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. In the mirror, he could still see Elara sleeping peacefully, unaware of his momentary lapse in judgment, unaware of the conflict raging within him.
“It’s okay,” Elara found herself saying. “As long as we stay in our own sleeping bags.”
“You’ve known Julian for a long time, haven’t you?”
“You’re going to freeze,” Beck said, approaching Elara with a thick woolen coat. “Here, take this.”
Before Elara could respond, Shanice came running back. “I’m bored with the other kids. What are you doing?”
The memory of Cora’s last birthday flashed through her mind–how her daughter had barely acknowledged the handmade butterfly Elara had created for her, too enamored with the expensive gifts from Damien and Vivienne.
Morning arrived too quickly with Shanice’s loud sneeze.
<
152 A Tentative Truce, A Lingering Gaze
The relief on both their faces made something warm unfurl in her chest.
They packed quickly, the peaceful morning routine transformed into a flurry of activity. Elara helped Shanice bundle up while Beck loaded the car.
“She’s not my mom,” Shanice explained matter–of–factly. “She’s Uncle Beck’s friend.” Beck handed another smaller coat to Shanice, who was bouncing excitedly beside them. “The bonfire’s starting soon. We should head down.”
Despite her exhaustion, Elara lay awake long after Shanice had fallen asleep. The soft sound of Beck’s breathing from across the cabin and Shanice’s occasional murmurs created an unfamiliar sense of peace. It had been years since she’d felt this kind of simple human connection.
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