Storms

08 | sleet

0 8

sleet: ice pellets, mixed with rain and/or snow.

❝...provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys.❞

Luke 12:33

FORGIVENESS IS NEVER EASY. It's an everlasting process that takes an inane amount of time, no matter whom it involves. It can be as simple as an apology, or—in Tanner and Elliot's case—a full decade of processing and prayer. Forgiveness has never been easy for the people housed on Earth, but as God meant it to be—a home, a saving grace, a final peace of mind. 

"Can we move it to Thursday?"

Elliot blinks as a soft, familiar voice breaks through her thoughts, her gaze flickering to one of her most valued and known customers, Mrs. Eleanor Hart, clad in a gorgeous blue sundress and over-sized sunglasses hiding kind, hazel eyes. She'd worked on several projects with Eleanor this month—especially since the Harts had moved from Dallas last year and wanted a fully redone kitchen and bedroom—and she finds the middle-aged woman incredibly fun to work with. 

She'd been an interior designer for five years now, and yet, she still finds it incredibly satisfying to step into an organized home, decorated nicely—or, in other words, a place that truly feels like home.

"We can move it to Thursday, if you'd like," Elliot finally murmurs, offering a small smile as she slides her thoughts aside. They'd been discussing the date in which the Harts' townhouse would be available for Elliot's viewing, and she has to admit, with the unbelievable amount of deadlines piling up on her plate, she's relieved they've finally agreed on a day.

"Thursday would be great," Eleanor replies, beaming. "Thank you, Elliot."

"I'll come over around four, so I won't be in the way of dinner," Elliot adds, closing the portfolio she'd spread across her desk minutes ago. She offers Eleanor a sheepish smile. "Sorry this meeting was so long. I'll forward you some ideas, and we can discuss it on Thursday."

Eleanor nods. "That'd be perfect." She stands, gripping her purse tightly, and waves before stepping out of Elliot's office and into the lobby, the door closing with finality behind her and allowing the scent of orchids to float into the room.

Elliot releases a soft sigh as she sinks into her chair, her eyes drawn to the photographs hung on the walls, most of them inspirations for room designs, from indoor plants to pale pink staplers. Drumming her fingers softly on the white desk, her eyes flicker warily to the calendar filled with meetings and appointments for the next three weeks. After the whirlwind of a snowstorm, she'd returned to work only to find a cluttered and overflowing inbox.

"Elliot." A soft knock on the door brings her out of her thoughts, and she glances up from her laptop, her eyes finding her assistant and friend of three years, Juliette Rein—a petite figure with large glasses framing her round face—entering the room and closing the door softly behind her. 

"Hey, Jules," Elliot greets with a small smile. "What's up?"

Juliette resists the urge to smile. "There's a Tanner Williams waiting for you out in the lobby."