Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Rhett
Kids screaming. Adults complaining about screaming. Too much food. It may be Christmas, but nothing feels particularly festive for me this year. I still haven’t heard a peep from Brynlee.
At the very least, I hoped she’d text me to let me know she’s safe. Not knowing where she is and if she’s okay feels like the slowest form of torture anyone can imagine on top of a broken heart I caused myself. Merry Christmas to me.
“Were we like this when we were their age?” Hardy asks, leaning over the arm of the couch.
“Like what?”
“Feral?”
I laugh and nod. “Probably.”
The only way to quiet them down is to let them open up presents, but we can’t do that until the food is put away and the dishes cleaned up.
Even though I offered to help move things along, I was banished to the living room with the rest of the men to suffer with the screaming kids.
Which is because the women of my family want to talk about Brynlee, and she is a no-go topic around me. Their decision, not mine.
All I want to do is go home and drink away the ache in my chest while I stare at the few pictures we have together. I wish we’d taken more. More mementos of our relationship when we were happy. Before I screwed everything up.
But going home is almost more depressing. The shirt she gave back stopped smelling like her weeks ago. It doesn’t stop me from wrapping it around a pillow and pretending it’s her next to me. Pathetic, I know.
As I look around the room, I realize I need a better coping mechanism than drinking my sorrows away with Everett every night. I’m going to end up with a problem soon if I don’t. Then what will everyone think? That I’m an alcoholic and an asshole, not just an asshole.
If we don’t get the presents opened up soon, the headache I planned to fake to leave early won’t be quite so fake. I’ll need an aspirin if I stay seated in this recliner too much longer. The best I can do right now is pray my eardrums don’t burst while I continue to talk to no one.
“Okay, I can’t take this any longer,” Pop says. “Rhett, have you heard anythin’ from Brynlee?”
My brothers and brothers-in-law look surprised but also intrigued as they focus on me for my answer. Apparently, Pop is the only one not abiding by the unspoken agreement like everyone else.
I shake my head and stare at my buffalo-plaid socks.
I’d say something, but he wouldn’t hear me.
Besides, what can I say? I freaked out, got jealous over nothing, made the woman of my dreams believe she wasn’t enough for me, and then stubbornly stayed at the bar while she left town when I could have stopped her?
And now she won’t even text me that she’s safe when I asked her to let me know because she hates me?
It’s not like he doesn’t already know all this.
“Have you tried callin’ her?” Hardy asks.
“Well, that’s a new idea,” I snap and immediately shut my eyes. Luckily, he’s one of the only ones who can hear me over the kids. “I’m sorry. I’m crabby, and I didn’t mean to snap at you. Yes, I’ve tried. More times than I should admit. She never calls back. Won’t even text me.”
Clint sits next to him and looks shocked. “She has conviction.”
“She did the same with Kevin. When Brynlee’s done, she’s done.”
Something I clearly didn’t put together before it was too late. If I’d just asked her about the wedding countdown, she would have had the conversation with Kevin in front of me like she offered. We’d be here, together, having our first Christmas together. Instead, my heart is off wherever she is.
“Kids, stop it!” Pop shouts, putting an end to the running and screaming. “I can’t hear myself think, and we’re havin’ a conversation. If you have to run and scream, go out back.”
“Why didn’t he do that thirty minutes ago?” Darwin mutters as the kids all sit on the floor and lower their voices to a reasonable level.
Laughing, I shake my head. “I didn’t think anythin’ could stop the madness. The downside, though, is that I can actually hear myself think now. It was a nice little break.”
“What if you drove out to Chicago?” Darwin suggests.
Clearly, Brynlee’s won over my family. Or they know how much I want to be with her. How was I the only one who didn’t see she was as happy as I was? Until I made us miserable, anyway.
“I thought about it, but I don’t know for sure that’s where she went.
If she is, I don’t know the first place to look for her.
She mentioned her mom always wanted to go to New York, and they have that giant outdoor tree there.
Or she could have gone to LA, or… anywhere, really.
She told me once she missed bein’ invisible. ”
I don’t think they realize how much time and effort I’ve put into thinking about this every night. Where she may have gone and why. How I could possibly find her. I come up empty every time.
“What about Darla? Gem said they’re workin’ together now. Bought the Golden Comb, which she’s really excited about,” Isaac says. “Gem can’t get an appointment with Darla to save her life because Doris keeps shortenin’ the hours.”
“Darla wants to stab me whenever she sees me, so I don’t think she’s in much of a helpin’ mood. She’s so mad, I’m pretty sure she’d hesitate before helpin’ put me out if I caught on fire.”
The doorbell rings, and the kids fall completely silent. We all take a quick inventory, but everyone’s here.
“We have a doorbell?” Hardy asks and looks around. “Since when?”
“Since forever,” Pop says and stands.
“Has anyone ever heard it before?” I ask and look at my brothers. “I honestly thought it was just for decoration.”
Mom walks out of the kitchen and waves a towel at Pop. “I got it.”
“Earl’s not still makin’ deliveries, is he?” Clint asks. “It’s Christmas. Poor man.”
Mom’s squealing has us all leaning as far as we can to see whoever stands in the entryway, but a large wall where Pop built her a closet blocks our view. The kids stare in silent shock, and I’m actually surprised they’re still as quiet as they are.
“Who is it, Mom?” Pop calls out.
“I didn’t know if you got my message. I just put dinner away, but I can make you a plate and warm it up. Here, hang up your jacket, and I’ll get you a plate. Oh, I’m so happy you’re here!”
My sisters and in-laws shuffle out of the kitchen and gush over whoever stands in the doorway.
“Any chance that’s your girl at the door?” Clint asks, his voice a whisper as he leans over Hardy.
I shrug, straining as far back as I can without tipping over the recliner to see who stands there. I have no idea who it could be other than Brynlee, and my heart races. Mom left a message for whoever it is. She doesn’t have her number, does she? Did they exchange them at Thanksgiving?
“Come into the kitchen and sit down. I’m goin’ to make you a plate of everythin’. You’re even thinner than you were at Thanksgiving,” Mom says.
Jumping up, I nearly trip over the three kids as I run into the kitchen to find Brynlee sitting at the island, just like she did the last time she was here. I slide on my socks as I stop, and her back sits straight as she looks around cautiously.
“There’s no bowl of flour sitting around, is there?” Brynlee asks.
Her voice sounds like music to my ears as I forget to breathe while Mom laughs. “No, we’re long done with bakin’. Oh, what do you want for dessert? We have cookies and pie.”
“You don’t have to go through any trouble. I was supposed to be here sooner, but there was a storm in Chicago that delayed my flight.”
“It’s no trouble. If I knew you were comin’, we would have waited for you.”
“I’m glad you didn’t. It would have been late, but I have to be honest… I expected to walk in to find kids screaming and running around. Do you have them locked away in a basement closet or something?”
She’s joking. That’s a good sign. Until she glances back to see me standing there like a stalker creep and jumps. Our eyes lock, and I damn near fall to my knees.
“Hi,” I manage to finally spit out once my lungs take in air again.
“Hi,” she says. “Your mom called and invited me for Christmas.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She gives me a small smile, and I notice she’s smaller than she was before. “Thanks. I figure we should probably talk, too.”
“After dinner. I feel like you need three of my home-cooked meals a day for a month to put some meat on those bones, sweetheart,” Mom says.
Brynlee turns back to Mom, a bright smile on her face. “I might actually get hips if I do.”
“May I… Do you mind if I sit with you?” I ask.
“Sure,” she says with a shrug. “It’s kind of your house. Or… was.”
Even though she’s been on a plane for however long the flight from Chicago to Atlanta is, and then in a car for at least two hours, she still smells amazing. Looks it, too. She wears a deep red sweater dress with a belt that cinches her waist and her hair in loose curls. Beautiful.
I sit next to her, and Mom sets the plate down. Brynlee’s eyes widen as she stares at it. “I can’t eat all of this, Lydia.”
“Eat what you can. I’ll send the rest home with you,” she says. “Come on, girls. Let’s give these two some privacy.”
Mom winks at me as they walk away, and I shove my shaking hands onto my lap under the counter as she takes a bite of ham.
“How have you been?” I ask.
“Not great,” she admits. “This is good.”
“Mom’s a great cook.”
“How about you?”
I shrug. “I’m decent. But give me a grill and a big piece of meat, and I’m a fantastic cook.”
I’m rewarded with a small smile. “I remember.”
“I’ve been pretty terrible, actually,” I admit. “Brynlee, I’m so sorry—”
“Can we wait to have this talk until we’re not in a house filled with people listening to us? Would that be okay?”
It’s obvious what she means. I’ve never heard this house as quiet as it is now, especially with twenty kids on Christmas. It’s kind of eerie, actually. “They’re goin’ to pepper us with questions.”
“I figured. Kind of spent most of my travel time preparing for the onslaught of questions. I’m not sure if I have many answers, though.”
“Just tell me… Are you here to get the rest of your things and list the house?”
My heart beasts so fast that I feel light-headed. “I don’t know,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying to decide what I’m going to do and where I’m going to land since you ended things.”
“Don’t sell the house,” I say.
“This is your town, Rhett—”
“It’s also yours. And based on the feedback from pretty much everyone, includin’ those listenin’ ears in the next room, you’re more welcome than I am. Give me a chance to make everythin’ up to you. Just a chance.”
Her head turns, and she locks eyes with me. “How am I more welcome than you are?”
I chuckle as I gaze into her blue eyes I’ve dreamed about every night.
The eyes I’ve missed getting lost in like crazy.
“I spent my entire life tryin’ to shake my nice guy persona, but now that I have, I miss it.
So does everyone else. They don’t like the guy I turned into any more than I do, and I want to be the nice guy again.
I can’t blame anyone for hatin’ me. I was terrible to you, and I’m so sorry. ”
Mom walks into the kitchen. “You know what? On second thought, why don’t I pack you up these leftovers, and you two can head out?”
“I don’t want to ruin your holiday plans,” Brynlee says, but Mom waves a hand in the air.
“You’re not ruinin’ anythin’. Rhett’s just been mopin’ around here, anyway. And if things go well with your talk, maybe you’ll consider comin’ over for brunch tomorrow mornin’. It’s adults only, and there will be no bowls of flour sittin’ around.”
She takes the plate from Brynlee who looks at it longingly. “I suppose I can eat later.”
I hurry to put on my boots before grabbing her jacket from the closet. The only designer one in the group, and I hold it out for her to slip into. “Will you come to my house? I have somethin’ for you.”
Her eyes lock with mine, and I hold my breath. All I need to do is show her what I did while she was gone, and she might believe me when I say I’m sorry. That I’m not that guy anymore, and that I love her. I love her more than anything in this world.
“Sure, I guess that’s fine.”
Mom walks out with three containers of food, and Brynlee’s eyes widen again. “I have more if you need any. Just let me know.”
“More? Than this? This is like my tater tot fiasco, only better,” Brynlee says.
I shake my head at Mom, and I know she’s doing this for me. “Thanks, Mom. Merry Christmas. I love you.”’
“Merry Christmas,” Brynlee says. “And thank you.”
“Merry Christmas, you two.”