32. RHETT
RHETT
The house is not what I expected. It’s a mini mansion with a homey feel to it from all the photos dotted around and solid furnishings that look as though they’ve spanned years of changing tastes and styles rather than all being picked out from the same set.
The checkerboard marble floors and high ceilings with intricate moldings are everything you would expect from immeasurable affluence.
Something that Avery doesn’t give off with her quiet and amiable nature.
“This is it.” She side glances up at me with long sigh.
It’s obvious she’s trying to put on a brave face for Iris, maybe even for me.
After my deluge last night, she’s really been trying to keep her emotions in check.
And I feel like a bastard for letting my frustration out.
I can’t even excuse it with the turn of events because I should’ve done a better job of sucking it up to make sure she stays above water.
We’re back in the kitchen, and even though she hasn’t drunk the coffee we picked up on the way over, she’s pulling some grounds from the freezer and spooning them into the coffeepot before she tops it up with water and puts it on the stove.
“I should’ve had the gas cut off or something,” she mumbles, shaking out a dishcloth that was hanging on the front of the oven. “After the wake…I just…I couldn’t come back here. You probably think it’s stupid and irresponsible but—”
“Avery.” I round the island and stand behind her, staring out of the window overlooking the side yard. “I’ve never thought any of those things about you.”
“It’s okay if you did because I certainly have.” Shrugging, she pats my arm as if to tell me to set her free.
That’s never going to happen, though, and as such I clutch the edge of the counter tighter. “About last night. In the car…”
“Don’t, Rhett.” Leaning back, Avery rests her head on my chest, below my chin, lolling it from side to side as she tells me, “Don’t apologize for saying how you feel.”
A long heavy breath pushes from her. It’s heartbreaking how palpable her anguish is between us. It makes me wish I could take back my thoughtless outburst, and the reality that I’ll never be able to undo any of it…it’s crushing. The words are out, and I can’t take them back.
Turning to face me, Avery fusses with the buttons of my shirt for a moment.
“You’ve listened to me when I’ve been hurt, scared, hopeless, and so many other things that I…
” Worrying her bottom lip, she inhales deeply before simply saying, “I’m sorry I dragged you into this ordeal.
And before you say it isn’t, because you have this thing about protecting me, and—”
“It’s not a thing. It’s a living, breathing need.”
“Regardless, I am sorry because any other person would have been easier to love and to be with.”
“Any other person isn’t you. You didn’t drag me into anything, sweetheart. I saw you and…and I found myself. I found something that has been missing all my life. Right up until the moment I laid my eyes on you.”
“God.” She smiles with a light chuckle. “You are so good at making me forget about all the shit with that mouth of yours.”
“Where’s Iris?” I ask, sitting her up on the counter. “My mouth is always at your disposal.”
A laugh vibrates all the way through her as her thighs press to my hips.
With her lips gaping and glistening after she licks over them, I can’t resist the urge to kiss her.
The light trill of her happiness lowers to a rumbling groan as my tongue sweeps over hers.
Warm hands bracket the curve of my neck while mine mold to her hips.
And while I drink my never-sated fill of her, nothing else matters. It all goes out of the window.
“Get a room!” Iris calls from behind us with a loud snicker.
When we pull away, Avery holds my stare with a gorgeous blush warming her cheeks. My chest squeezes at the sight of her beguiling grin. Her usually pinks lips are slightly darker and swollen from the nip of my advances.
“We should focus on what we’re doing here,” she murmurs while leaning closer, fingertips skimming over my jaw to my lips as she strokes the tip of her nose over mine. Up and down, side to side. “You’re a wicked distraction.”
“Me?” Feigning shock, I lift her off the counter and put her on her feet just as the coffee kettle starts whistling.
“There are many things you can pull off,” Avery chuckles, taking the pot off the gas and moving it to the back of the stove. “Innocence is not one. Now, come on, time to get to work.”
“Yeah! I want to go home.” Iris tugs at my hand as I follow them through the house, all the way up to the top floor.
We head into a small room that overlooks the bald maze running from the side of the house all the way to the back of the property.
Conifers protrude from a few of the dead ends with the large center having a tall birdbath fountain and large black iron benches that look like half cages woven through with naked branches and vines.
“Mom used to call it the room with a view,” Avery tells me, looking around the whitewashed paneled walls.
Paintings of the ocean and beach make up stunning oil canvas collages on two out of the three walls. A large floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall bookcase surrounds the double-width doorway facing the french-style doors that run the width of the room and Juliet balcony.
“In the end, she was too weak to leave these four walls. The pain meds were just as bad as the chemo would have been.”
Oddly, there’s nothing but peace when she talks of her mother. Almost as though she’s relieved she’s not here. I can’t blame her, though; lung cancer is a bastard. Any cancer is, but the way that particular type takes you in the end…
The thought of Robert’s end hits me again, and the longer I go without telling her, the more it feels like a dirty secret. Even if I’m trying to protect her.
“Sorry, I…this room…”
“It’s my favorite,” Iris says, going straight for the baby grand to one side of the glass wall. “Can you play the piano?”
“Not very well.” An understatement given I was an absolute shit during all the private lessons my mom demanded I take when I was Iris’s age.
“Pop was the best, but Mommy is good too.”
Avery chuckles, pulling the key that was in the file from her pocket and heading back toward the wall of books. Pressing the edge by the far side of the wall, she pops the four bottom shelves open.
“Dad always said that the safe in his office was far too predictable to keep what was important secure.”
“I can see where he was coming from.” I move closer but keep enough away that I can’t see what’s inside.
“Here, take these,” she instructs me, holding out a couple of mahogany cigar boxes. When I take them, she pulls another bigger box out. It’s rounded with pastel blue panels decorated with intricately carved shells and mermaids all around it, the scaled mother-of-pearl top clasped with a small lock.
“Bingo!” She blows out a breath when she inserts the key. “My grandmother bought me this for my tenth birthday to keep my treasure.”
Heading to the small writing desk, she sits at the chair and opens the trinket box. A small, carved mermaid dives into the ruffled blue silk in circles, over and down.
The fond nostalgia that lights her face is entirely enthralling as she listens to the music. Avery must realize I’m watching her because she looks up at me and says, “My dad used to wind it four times after he put me to bed, and I would always fall asleep before it was finished.”
“What is it?”
“La Mer by Debussy, or rather a section of it. She had the movement especially made for this box. It’s why it sounds a little choppy in the middle—it was hammered out by hand. One of a kind.”
“It sounds so…”
“Peaceful?” Avery asks as I put the boxes she handed me down to one side of the desk.
“My grandmother was old-fashioned; she believed in giving gifts that meant something. She used to say that the things we treasure are the ones we have to search for. Always dig deep, she used to tell me, and I would ask, for what?”
Brushing a strand of chestnut hair from her face, I ask, “What did she reply?”
“Everything.” With a shrug, she pulls up a trim of silk to reveal a row of stud earrings that grow in size.
Pointing at the minuscule sapphires, she tells me, “Those were for my tenth birthday. The emeralds were for my fifteenth, and the pearls were for my sixteenth. I only got my first diamonds when I turned eighteen.”
The diamond drops are bigger than the rest, and as she fingers the gems, she adds, “She passed away before my twenty-first birthday. It’s why this cushion is empty.”
Closing the top of the box with a sigh, Avery turns the key until the lock clicks shut and then presses it all the way to the rounded top before twisting it again so that the sides pop open.
“This was my favorite part about this box,” she chortles, pulling out the jewelry pouches that sit inside the drawers until she finds the one thing that clearly doesn’t belong there.
The levity on her features draws, leaving a serious stare.
“The reason it went in the safe up here was because I would play with it all the time, and Mom used to worry that I would break it. Until I married, this was the only home I’d ever known, and by then she was gone, and the reminders as small as they might be, they felt like constantly open wounds back then. ”
“And now?”
With another shrug, she pulls the USB stick from the tray and holds it up between us. “My perspective’s changed. As much as she was in pain, she got to go peacefully. In the end, the drugs helped her let go. It wasn’t like that for him, was it?”
My heart jumps into my throat, its pulse choking all my thoughts and my words. “Avery…”
“Come on, Doc. I have a PhD in Marine Conservation.” After a deep breath, she whispers, “You can’t protect me from the truth. It might hurt like a bitch, but it’s nothing compared to—” She stops abruptly as the tinkling of the piano keys behind me pauses. “I can handle it.”
“Okay.”