Chapter 8
Jakob
Standing at the funeral of the man you replaced at work and also lived next door to, who you’d never met but had kissed his oldest son… was surreal.
“Noah Hinder was only forty-two. Taken too soon.” The officiant shook his head. “He is survived by his loving wife, Helga, and two devoted children, Hansel and Gretel Hinder.”
“Rhett,” I found myself saying louder than was proper for the setting. A dozen heads turned my way, but the only one I cared about was the one with blue eyes and a grateful expression.
“His sons, Hansel and Rhett,” Hansel emphasized, making sure everyone understood.
The eulogist wasn’t from the small town of Kleinholz nearby, having driven from further away, so I could only guess he was reading from what Helga told him as he shuffled papers in his hands. I should have corrected the part about Helga being loving as well.
“As I was saying,” the eulogist went on, shuffling to his next notecard while trying to ignore the interruption. “Noah Hinder was loved, and will be missed. His former employer, Holzhauer, has provided a lovely wreath of flowers, which is by the book for leaving notes of condolence.”
We all looked toward the large circlet of greenery woven with white flowers on a stand beside the small table next to the Hinders’ cabin. I’d helped Rhett carry the side table out earlier in the day, when I saw him struggling while fighting tears. We’d barely spoken since we kissed, but it was understandable under the circumstances.
“Now, we will have a few words from Noah’s widow.”
The man stepped aside and allowed Helga to take the space. She was decked out in black from head to toe, patting at her cheeks as if there were tears streaming down her face.
There weren’t.
It had only been a couple days, but she had gotten her nails done in black, wore a dress cut an inch or two too high above her knees for a funeral, black fishnet stockings, and a hat with a legit veil. Her lips, though, were bright red when she pulled the veil back to speak.
“Today is a tragic occasion.” Helga sniffed her imaginary tears and put on a face that looked like an odd mix of sad and seductive. “No one could have imagined a lovely, virile person in their prime would be subjected to something so horrible when so young.”
For a moment, I thought she was talking about Mr. Hinder and expressing genuine sadness. Rhett and I met eyes, his narrowing in suspicion. Then she spoke again.
“I’m too young to be a widow. It’s horrific, truly.” Helga revealed her real meaning, pouting her bright red lips. “How could Noah subject me to this?”
No one interrupted her, and I was disgusted to see some guests nodding their heads with sympathy for the woman’s fake performance. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’d convinced our bosses to keep her employed despite being vindictive and lazy, and most of the people there seemed to be her friends.
Rhett and Hansel were too sad to speak and allowed the service to finish quickly after Helga’s little show. There was no reception, with only the bosses from Holzhauer shaking the brothers’ hands and speaking to them in low, empathetic voices before taking their leave.
Making my way over to Rhett, I saw Hansel had two school friends rubbing his back and whispering to him. I was glad he wasn’t alone. Rhett, on the other hand, had Helga getting in his face.
“We’re going to the bar,” Helga started, then seemed to hear how that sounded with her bosses still close by. “To have a drink in honor of Noah and toast to his life.”
The second part was spoken louder, to be sure she earned maximum credit for her behavior. Rhett just nodded and waited. Helga had more to say, so I waited behind her in case I needed to intervene.
“You will clean this all up.” Helga whispered her instructions, but I could clearly hear them.
“I’ll help.” I moved to stand beside Rhett. I wanted to slip my hand in his and give it a squeeze, so I did. Rhett gasped at the contact and Helga narrowed her eyes.
“We’ll talk later,” she said in warning, though I wasn’t sure which one of us she planned on talking to. Possibly both.
“Enjoy the bar,” I couldn’t help calling after her.
When Hansel went into the house with his friends to comfort him, Rhett and I stood there for a few minutes. He needed to let things settle, but I really wanted to give him a hug. I got the feeling Rhett rarely asked for what he wanted.
“Can I give you a hug?”
Rhett sniffed and bit his lip before walking into my arms, not waiting for me to make a move. He really did need it. I couldn’t help but wonder, when was the last time he’d been hugged?
Letting go of his hand between our chests, I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing the sweet young man to me as tight as possible. He sniffled and cried quietly while I rocked him from side to side.
Kissing the top of his head felt natural, but it had Rhett lifting his head to look at me. I wiped away his tears with the corner of one finger, hoping my rough hands didn’t hurt the tender skin. He’d cried a lot in the previous days.
Rhett pushed up on his toes until his face was closer, his breath mingling with mine. We met in the middle, a sweet press of lips I didn’t want to lead to more. This was about comforting Rhett after his father’s funeral, not making out.
We stared into each other’s eyes, brushing our lips together until Rhett gave me a small smile. “Thank you for being here for me. Not just today.”
“Anytime, sweetheart,” I promised, the endearment coming naturally.
“What the hell is going on here?”
The shrill voice interrupted our little bubble, and Rhett tried to pull away. I let him, but kept my arm around his back.
Helga was standing at the corner of their house, hands on her hips, no longer wearing the ridiculous veil, and purse over one shoulder. She must have forgotten it when she left, or still been in the house freshening up while we thought she’d gone.
“Explain yourselves,” Helga insisted.
“No.”
My answer appeared to piss her off more, if the redness of her neck and exposed cleavage were any indication. There was too much makeup on her face to show there.
“No?” Helga yelled, advancing on us as her heels sank into the soft ground. It was ungraceful and all we could do was stare and wait. “I forbid this.”
“Rhett is twenty-one now,” I pointed out, since he’d had a birthday shortly after I moved in. He was well past being a youth. “He can date whoever he wants.”
Rhett looked up at me at my use of the word date, but I was sticking to my point. I’d date the hell out of the sexy young man.
“He?” Helga’s voice grew even more shrill, “So you’re gay? That’s why you turned me down? He’s not even a real man!”
Fuck that noise.
“Rhett is real enough for me. And even if I was straight, I’d never go for a married woman,” I pointed out, not bothering to explain how gender didn’t matter to me. She wouldn’t get it anyway.
“This isn’t over,” Helga threatened before tottering away on the sticks she called shoes.
Despite her outburst and bigotry, it made me realize something. I wanted to do more than protect Rhett.
I wanted to keep him.