Chapter 31Rafe
Chapter 31
Rafe
I rubbed the palm of my hand on my chest, right in the middle where it suddenly felt tight. When did she put that there? Right in the open, where anybody and everybody could see.
“Hey, is that new? Nice shot.” Pete had come up behind me, and I hadn’t even noticed. “You kids look like you were having a fun time.”
I nodded slowly. Yeah, that was a good moment. A good day.
We’d snapped the leashes on the dogs after their run in the surf. Rose had handed her phone to some lady walking by and asked her to take a pic. Us and the pups and Haystack Rock in the background. Rose was laughing and looking at the camera. I was looking at her.
Sometime since then, she’d printed the photo, stuck it in a frame, and set it here among the other family stuff in her living room.
I turned and met Pete’s eyes. Lucky for me, he smiled and didn’t say anything more.
Earlier, I’d taken on setup responsibilities. Rose had said they were expecting an even bigger crowd this year.
Your mission , she’d informed me, should you decide to accept it, she’d followed this with a wink, is to find enough chairs for every person to sit at the same table. By any means necessary.
I’d almost saluted her, but held off in favor of a return wink. She’d burst into giggles. Yeah, the element of surprise—gotta love it.
While they were busy in the kitchen, I’d brought up the extra leaves and card tables from the basement. By the time I’d finished, the dining “table” extended from the dining room through the arches into the living room. Chairs had been a challenge, but I’d hunted up enough from around the place. Rose had snorted when she saw my finds.
Nevertheless, it’d all worked. Barely.
Now I was parked in a corner of the living room, beer in hand. Pete swung around to my side and stood there shoulder to shoulder. People continued to pour in through the front door.
“Good place to stay out of the way, eh?” he commented, taking a long swallow from his bottle.
“Mm-hmm,” I agreed. Rose was commanding the kitchen quarters where the chow line would be set up on the counters. The turkey was halfway to being done. Jennifer was setting the table with Mateo’s little sister’s help. The television was blasting from across the front hall—sounded like a game was on from all the cheers and boos. And some barks?
“Nuh-uh! Stay!” I said this loudly and sharply to Princess and Pirate. They’d jumped up from my feet when Cab lumbered through the front door. Jean-Luc followed close behind, hefting a box of wine bottles.
“Hi, guys,” he called out. “Pete—Dr. Mica’s out at the curb with her papa. Looks like she could use some help.”
We both moved forward, but Pete handed me his beer. “Familiar face and all that, Rafe. Can you stick this in the fridge for me?”
“Sure, you betcha. If I can find room.”
He laughed and headed out the front door.
Eyeing Princess and Pirate, I muttered “stay” again. Cab plodded over, weaving around the dining table and dodging other furniture. Agile for a big-ass lug. Annnd…let the butt-sniffing begin .
Jean-Luc and I made our way toward the kitchen and paused in the opening from the dining room. Chaos? Or a normal Thanksgiving? We looked at each other and shook our heads. Who were we to know or judge?
Rose spotted us and waved from her post in front of the stove, where she was stirring something in a big saucepan. She wore a Chocolate Lab apron over a short jean skirt, her hair was bunched on top of her head with strands falling everywhere, and there was a smear of, yeah, that looked like gravy, on her cheek. She looked flushed, hot and stressed—and I wanted to kiss the ever-lovin’ fuck out of her.
A little hard to do when the kitchen was crammed with people.
Finn stood by Rose at the stove, mashing potatoes in a big pot and adding hot milk and stuff as he went. Mateo and his mom were piling apple empanadas on a platter to join the pumpkin pies others had brought. Jennifer’s twins were putting rolls in a basket. Miss Ada was brushing a glaze on the ham in front of the convection oven. Some women I didn’t know were arranging foil-covered dishes on corkboards on the chow line.
Everybody and their mother was here. Plus a few dogs—Miss Ada’s dachshunds were begging for ham scraps, and a corgi was sticking close to the girls.
“Jean-Luc, there you are. Oh, that must be heavy!” Rose indicated a cleared space on the counter with her elbow. “Thank you so much! Can you and Lauren open a few bottles and space them out down the middle of the table, please?”
Lauren was coming out of the pantry carrying a full tray of wine glasses and startled when she heard her name. Jean-Luc quickly put his box down and covered her hands on each side of the tray to steady things. She froze, he froze—although the back of his neck turned red—and everyone went quiet. After a beat, Jean-Luc stepped away, and Lauren continued into the dining room. The chatter resumed.
On my way to the fridge to stow the beers, I bumped him with my shoulder. He ignored me and moved over to the counter to start opening wines. Lauren joined him a moment later.
Are Rose and I that obvious? I shook my head and turned from the fridge…to come face-to-face with the lady in question.
“Come with me. I need your help reaching something.” Rose hooked her right arm in mine and dragged me half backward over to—and into—the pantry. She switched on the light and closed the door.
I must have been slow on the uptake— on half a bottle of beer? —because the next thing I knew she reached up to wrap her arms around my neck and hug the soft length of her body against mine.
I went hard in response. Not suitable for the PG audience outside the pantry door, but I’d deal with that later.
“Rafe, I’ve missed you,” she whispered before pulling my head down for a wet deep kiss.
She tugged back when I wanted to keep going.
“It’s been too long! How long has it been? Why can’t I remember? I know it’s been too long.”
Three nights and almost four days since we’ve been alone together. But who’s counting?
Rose frowned, and I wanted to smooth out those furrows between her eyes.
“And it’s all my fault,” she mumbled. “I should have never asked you to leave.”
Shadows under her eyes. Obvious, even in the dim light of the overhead bulb. Like when I first arrived, and she was sad about her mamma.
Shit. She was having trouble sleeping too.
“It’s…it’s…too overwhelming right now,” Rose said, her throat clogged with tears. “Staging the perfect Thanksgiving like Mom and Dad used to do. Protecting Finn from change like he was a little boy. Wishing Mom were here when she’ll never be again. Trying to save the Chocolate Lab by myself.”
She stopped abruptly. What? What the fuck is she talking about? Save the—
She started again and caught my attention. “And you…you leaving in a week. It’s too much.”
I pulled her close again and wrapped my arms tightly around her. She resisted for a moment and then relaxed against me. I laid my cheek on her hair and breathed her in. Roses combined with the scents of roasting turkey and spicy pumpkin pie. It worked for me.
“I’ve got you. Don’t you worry—you’re safe. Let’s concentrate on today. You’ve got a house full of people who love you and who are thankful to be here, spending this time together.”
Rose sighed and nodded against my chest. We stayed close a moment more, and I said, “We still have one problem.”
“What’s that?” she asked, angling back to look up at me.
“How am I gonna walk out there like this?”
She looked down to see my ever-present desire for her on full view. I’d worn a black button-up and jeans for the occasion today, rather than my customary T-shirt and flannel overshirt.
“Oh, that’s no problem. That’s what aprons are for.”
She grabbed a spare Chocolate Lab apron off a hook and handed it to me. For our cover story, I reached up to get a huge platter off the top shelf of the pantry, and we strolled out into the kitchen.
After Mateo, Katt and some of the kids took the dogs out back to do their business, after Finn carved the turkey with Pete’s help, after plates were piled high on the chow line, we sat down to dinner. A seat for everyone at the same table, even if a couple were upturned planters. Someone thought to bring a high chair for their toddler.
Turned out—unlike the army where everyone fell on their food like ravenous dogs and unlike my few foster families who made even meager attempts at holidays—Rose’s home had an important tradition.
It happened before anybody picked up a fork. The oldest and youngest guests got things rolling with a blessing. This year, Miss Ada and Liam’s little girl, a real cutie—couldn’t be more than four or five—did the honors.
Meggie climbed on the old lady’s lap and snuggled under her chin. Miss Ada started off, and Meggie repeated each line. Both voices were soft, and the little girl stumbled over a few words. No matter. The rest of us were quiet, even the toddler in his highchair and the dogs under our feet.
Dear earth who gives to us this food, Dear sun who makes it ripe and good, For the meal we are about to eat, For those past and present whose efforts made it possible, For family and friends who share this bounty today, We are thankful.
Maybe we were supposed to say “amen” or something at the end. Instead, we applauded. Meggie got shy and hid her face while Miss Ada smiled around the table. Liam reclaimed his daughter, and we all dug in.
After a few bites, I lowered my head, trying to catch Rose’s eyes across the table. There’d been wet streaks down her cheeks during the blessing, and she’d squeezed Finn’s hand so hard her knuckles had turned white. She was still quiet, pushing food around on her plate and sipping from her wineglass. Her neighbors were busy talking around her, letting her be for now.
I didn’t want to yell over the hubbub to get her attention, so I stretched out my leg past Princess to nudge her in the ankle.
Except I got Pirate instead, who yelped and surged up. Only to bump his damned domed head on the underside of the table and rattle the plates and glasses in front of Rose and Finn. Princess reacted and did the same on my side. Nothing fell over, but not for lack of trying on both their parts.
We stuck our hands under the table to grab their collars and shouted at the same time, “Calm down, you big babies! You’re fine.”
The table erupted. “Did somebody drop their plate?” “Oooh…watch the wine bottle…it’s tipsy!” “Are you guys okay?” “Mom?” And barking, lotsa barking.
Rose met my eyes, shook her head and started laughing.
I laughed back. There she is.
After everyone settled down and finished their dinner, after big plates were exchanged for small plates with both pie and empanadas for some of us, after leftovers were shared out, most people started heading out the door.
Rose and Finn stood in the front entry hall, giving and getting hugs. Never saw a group exercise so much physical contact, outside of my fighting days. I almost escaped, standing on the edge of things.
“Young man, I need your help getting home.” Miss Ada clutched my arm and thrust leashes into my free hand. She kept her giant handbag, jammed with plastic containers, hooked on her elbow. Must’ve weighed a ton, the way she was listing to one side.
“Yes, ma’am, of course. Why don’t you let me carry your bag too.” Not making it a question, I slipped the bulky damned thing from her elbow to mine.
Miss Ada hugged my arm again, and I muttered, “quiet, you two” to her bickering dogs. We walked out the door, down the porch steps and up the block toward her house.
When I returned, I found Rose in the middle of the kitchen, directing cleanup traffic. A big crew had stayed behind—besides Finn and Lauren, there were Mateo, Jean-Luc, Pete, Katt and even a couple of Finn’s buddies.
So…enough of this shit.
I marched over to Rose and interrupted her mid-order, “You and I are gonna take the dogs out for their walk. Grab your jacket—it’s cool out but not raining.”
She opened her mouth…and closed it when I reached around her to loosen the strings, pull the apron over her head and toss it on the counter.
I turned to Finn and said, “Leave the roasting pan for me to scrub out when we get back. I can take the trash bags over to the café’s dumpster too.”
He smiled. The boy had Rose’s sweet smile . “Nah, we got this, man. Right, guys?” Everyone else closed their mouths, smiled and nodded too.
“Goodnight, Mom. Great Thanksgiving—Grandma would’ve been proud.” Finn hugged his mamma and pushed her out of the kitchen.
She grabbed her jacket while I got Princess and Pirate. We walked out into the cool starry night, not saying much. Going toward the park, we held hands. The dogs tugged on their leashes, tracking scents on either side of us.