Eltingville Characters Novels & Stories

He looked at the dirt path leading up the cliff. The cottage sat on the edge of the world, its white paint peeling away in long, jagged strips. Elara was there, a silhouette behind the moth-eaten curtains. She didn't leave during the day. She didn't talk to the butcher or the baker. She was a ghost in a floral dress, waiting for the sun to drop so she could breathe. Abram kicked the door open. The smell of frying garlic and cheap tobacco hit him. "You're late," Elara said. She didn't turn around from the stove. She moved with a stiff, guarded grace, her hand instinctively hovering near the bread knife on the counter. "The boy just went down."

They all rose to their feet as she smiled and said, “Elowen, come here. Let me introduce the family to you. This is May and Luke. They are Alex’s parents. Over there are Jake and Shirley. They are your uncle and aunt. And there are also Bella, Jimmy, Lynn, Foria, and Annie. They are all about your age, so you can spend time together.” Elowen obediently bowed and greeted each person one by one. The older adults, though somewhat awkward, still maintained a friendly attitude toward her. The younger ones, however, did not hide their feelings at all. Whether they liked or disliked someone showed clearly on their faces. And they clearly did not like Elowen. It seemed that in this villa, aside from

My finger caught on a loop and the sentence unrolled in my mouth. “Home is where your wolf can lie down without teeth,” I said. I didn’t know I was going to say it until the words arrived and went out into the cold. Vivian nodded once like we had agreed on something fundamental. “Elara embroidered it when she was twelve and too good at staying quiet to make adults comfortable. She had that…that kindness people mistake for softness. She was not soft. She was…she had decided to spend herself on children and slow storms. It made her dangerous in a way I did not understand until she was gone.”

But everyone seemed to really like her and didn't mind at all. "We were so focused on Eloá that we ended up being rude," Mrs. Melanie spoke at one point, addressing me and making me look at her inquisitively. "We didn't even introduce ourselves to the lovely young lady," she explained her statement. "You're right, Aunt Melanie," Mr. Mackenzie quickly agreed. "This is Charlotte Thompson, Eloá's nanny." "I'm Douglas Carter, Oliver's best friend," the seemingly friendliest of the three men spoke and extended his hand to me with a handsome smile still on his face.

Taking another drink of her tea, Memory let Ellie eat her dinner, reflecting on how fortunate it was she’d showed up just when she was needed most. It really seemed a bit like a Christmas miracle. Her father asked where Ellie was from, and she relayed the same story Memory had heard earlier, about how she’d owned a shop in St. Charles, Illinois, though she added a few more details this time, and by the time Ellie was done with her meal, it seemed like they’d known Ellie their whole lives.