Free Straddling the Fence by Annie Evans Page A

in the swing glowed
through the darkness.
    Her throat tightened. Tears clouded her vision until she
blinked them away. Bellamy set the teacup and saucer aside, pulled on a robe
over her nightgown and grabbed her phone. Flipping on the back porch light, she
slid her feet into a pair of flip-flops and walked outside.
    The virgin wood was smooth under her palm, then cool beneath
her bottom as she sat down. He’d routered the edges to a comfortable curve and
shortened the long length of rope enough to allow for reworked knots beneath
the seat.
    Forget flowers, expensive gifts or dinner dates. This modest
gesture was the single most romantic thing any man had ever done for her.
    After taking a long moment to simply absorb just how sweet
and thoughtful Eli’s gift was, she pulled her phone from the pocket of her robe
and sent him a text.
    I could use a push.

Chapter Six
     
    In truth, Eli had already given Bellamy a push,
metaphorically speaking, although that probably wasn’t his intention. Any
hesitancy she’d felt at getting involved with him vanished the second she spied
the repaired swing. Maybe even upon encountering the closed gate. And she
couldn’t forget the concern he’d shown for her living conditions last Saturday.
The frown he’d tried to chase away but had kept returning to darken his eyes
and set his mouth in a tense line. It wasn’t like she was living in squalor,
but she could admit it was scant. To an outsider it might appear lonely and
disconcerting. Temporary.
    Isn’t it?
    Admittedly, she did miss some material things—the huge comfy
beanbag chair she’d sat in to read, her old bed with its wrought iron frame
she’d found at a yard sale for fifty bucks, and a few other odds and ends that
didn’t make the trip because of space constraints. Renting a moving truck
would’ve cost money she didn’t have to spare, and her mom and dad couldn’t be
troubled to shorten their trip and offer help of any sort.
    She’d outright lied to Eli when she told him her parents
weren’t the overly involved type. The truth was they were emotionally
negligent. She’d never wanted for anything growing up except their attention,
their genuine involvement in her life. To feel as if they cared about what
happened to her instead of always wondering if she’d been an afterthought. A
reproductive concession to satisfy some societal, parental or sibling pressure,
not a sincere desire for a child.
    Down deep inside, Bellamy knew her parents loved her, but
they were selfish in expressing the sentiment in ways that really mattered.
That was why getting to spend summers and holidays with her grandparents had
meant so much. Here, she’d felt wanted, loved and nurtured. Like she belonged.
In some ways, she supposed it fed her through the months in between visits.
Gave her something to look forward to.
    Her phone chimed with a return message, jarring her from the
depressing thoughts and back to the moment.
    Be there in 10 .
    She dropped the phone back into her pocket, let go a shaky
breath and kicked the flip-flops aside to drag her toes through the cool,
dew-dampened grass. Let her mind focus on the tickling sensation instead of the
fast, anticipatory thud of her heart as she tried hard not to count off the
minutes in her head.
    It didn’t dawn on her until she heard the approaching whine
of the big tires on his pickup that she’d locked the gate behind her earlier.
She waited for him to call, but he must’ve kept a spare key for himself or hid
one somewhere because after a brief pause, headlights flashed through the side
of the yard and then he was parking behind her raggedy car.
    Bellamy closed her eyes and listened to the soft shush-shush-shush of his footsteps through the grass as he drew nearer. Beneath her palms, the
rope was hard and slightly abrasive since it hadn’t been handled in years. The
night air was crisp, but still held enough humidity for it to feel moist against
the bare skin of her legs. When his