20
We believed anything worth doing was worth over-doing.—Steven Tyler
“That house.” Rhett pointed out the car window.
"Oh my God." Mel shook her head as she ducked to get a better look. "Are you completely insane?"
Miffed, Rhett narrowed her eyes at the back of her sister's head. This was the second less-than-enthusiastic reaction she got when showing off the house that captured her heart. Rhys also expressed doubts about it when she pointed it out, albeit in a more tactful way than Mel.
"No, I am not insane. What the hell is wrong with people, anyway? That house is gorgeous."
Mel looked at her with one brow cocked in derision. "It's a money pit, Rhett. Just looking at it from here I can see about sixty thousand dollars worth of shit that has to be done and that’s just cosmetic. And I know this neighborhood."
"Don't even start on the neighborhood. I've done my homework, and this area is coming back.
People are buying up all the old houses like this one and renovating them.
Property values are going up, and it's right on the verge of being trendy again.
" Rhett looked past her sister to where the big, white Victorian sat behind unkempt hedges.
Everything about the house called to her, from the wraparound porch to the turret on the right side.
Okay, yes, the paint was deplorable, the roof was a disaster, and none of the gingerbread trim that must have been there at one time was left.
But it was still gorgeous in Rhett's eyes, and she wanted it.
"I'm not talking about the neighborhood now.
" Mel waved her hand in front of Rhett's face to recapture her attention.
"What I meant is that for a long time this was rental city, okay?
And I'm talking low-rent rentals. I'd lay good money on betting the inside of this place has been carved up into too many apartments and then trashed. "
"So?" A stubborn frown turned down the corners of Rhett's mouth as she folded her arms across her chest. "It can be fixed up."
"It's not worth it, honey. It's been let go too long. Hell, before you got halfway through it you'd go through everything Dad left you."
Rhett shook her head. "It wouldn't take that much."
"Yes, Rhett, it would." Whatever she saw on her sister's face made Mel sit back with a sigh. "Look, before you do anything, have someone who knows about this kind of thing go in there with you. Call Gary if you want. He's a good general contractor. And listen to what he says."
"That's what Rhys said."
"Well, if you won't listen to me, then listen to him. Promise me you won't buy this thing until you find out what'll it take to fix it up. And that's even if it can be saved."
"Fine." Rhett uncrossed her arms and put the car in gear. "I will."
In the months since Rhys left for Illicit's tour in Australia and then Europe, Rhett busied herself looking for a place to live.
The money from her father's estate meant she could raise her budget, but she was still determined to find a bargain.
And the asking price for that Victorian was even less than she could have dreamed.
Even though restoring an old house was something she'd never done, she was ready to take it on.
To be able to bring something neglected and abused to its former glory stirred something deep within her.
To be able to also make it a home, a haven for herself, was even better.
Despite the many amenities of Mel's condo, Rhett's yearning for a yard, a patio and greater privacy grew more pronounced with every day that passed.
What drove her hardest, though, was the desire to keep from stagnating.
The only times she really felt alive and vibrant were the times she was with Rhys.
He made her aware of herself in a way she'd never been before, and not just physically.
When she was with him, she used her mind as well as her passions.
But Rhys was never going to be around for long stretches of time.
She knew that and she accepted it, but she was unwilling to crawl back into a quiet, timid shell of herself when he was gone.
Since there were no jobs that interested her, she needed to find something to stimulate herself.
And the thought of renovating a house was that something.
With one last, wistful glance at the house with which she'd fallen in love, she pulled away from the curb.
Footsteps scuffed across the hardwood floor, and Rhett turned to see Lilith shuffle into Mel's kitchen. She couldn't help but grin at her daughter's bedhead and the yawn she tried to hide behind her hand.
"Merry Christmas, sleepyhead." Rhett gestured behind her. "Fresh pot of coffee over there."
"Thanks, Mom. Merry Christmas." Moving at the speed of snail, Lilith crossed the kitchen and took one of the mugs Rhett had set out on the counter earlier. After a few sips of coffee, she lifted her head and sniffed the air. "Biscuits?"
"In the oven keeping warm." Rhett dumped a plate of crumbled, cooked sausage into the skillet in which she'd just prepared homemade gravy.
"Whoa, is that Granny's sausage gravy?" More alert, Lilith came to stand beside her mother and peer into the pan. "Is it ready yet?"
"Couple of minutes more, then you can have some."
Lilith leaned her hip on the counter and sighed. "I still think it's crappy that Granny's in Florida instead of here. I mean, she missed Thanksgiving because she was in Atlanta with Patsy, and now Christmas, too. Let Patsy go visit her family by her own self and let Granny be with us."
"I miss her, too. But I don't begrudge her the chance to get away." Rhett turned the heat to low and popped a lid on the skillet. "This is the first time since before I was born that your granny's been able to travel and meet new people. Let her have fun."
Lilith gave her mother a long look over the rim of the coffee mug. "You're sure she's not mad at you and Mel for living here instead of staying in Claiborne or something?"
Rhett pulled a long oven mitt onto one hand.
"Scoot back so I can open the oven door.
No, she's not mad." She pulled the pan of biscuits out and placed it on a waiting trivet.
"I kind of think she was a little envious when I moved here, to tell you the truth.
Maybe she saw me getting out of that small town and starting to have fun and decided to try it herself.
She and Patsy sure don't stay home much these days. "
"No kidding." Lilith eyed the golden, flaky biscuits. "Do I have to wait until Brendan and Mel wake up before I can eat?"
Laughing, Rhett kissed her daughter's forehead.
"It's Christmas, kiddo. You can eat whatever and whenever you want.
" Her cell phone chimed from her back pocket, and she pulled it out to see a video call coming in.
There was only one person who would call her this early on Christmas morning, and her heart gave a pleasurable little thump.
"I'm going to go take this in my room, okay? "
Lilith snickered. "Tell Rhys I said Merry Christmas."
Rhett hurried into the living room and answered the call. "Merry Christmas, you."
"And Happy Christmas to you, too." Rhys's beautiful face smiled up at her from the screen of her cell phone. "Why are you out of breath?"
"Because I'm about halfway running to my bedroom. Can I call you right back?"
"Um ..." He looked rather dumbfounded at the request, and Rhett bit back laughter.
"Really, just stay right there, and I'll call you right back."
"All right then." He cocked a brow. "But I'll want an explanation."
"You'll get one. 'Bye." Rhett ended the call as she entered her bedroom. After shutting the door behind her, she grabbed her laptop and stretched out on the bed with it. A few clicks of the mouse, and Rhys was back in front of her.
"What was that all about?"
Rhett settled herself in a more comfortable position on the pillows. "I was on my phone before, and I wanted to see you full size on my computer screen, that's all." She grinned at the pleased look he tried to hide. "You're too hot to be relegated to a cell phone."
And, oh, he was hella hot smiling at her from halfway around the world. His hair was mussed, and he sported a day's growth of facial hair that lent him a tough vibe that made her motor run.
"You keep flattering me like that and I'll not be able to get through the door."
"Not flattery," she said. "Truth. So, how's Brighton?"
"London, actually. We're having Christmas at my sister's this year since there's more room here than either my mum or dad have. How's Dallas?"
"Still the way you left it."
His lips pulled up in an almost wistful smile. "I've found myself getting a bit homesick the past few weeks. Seems like an eternity until I can be there again."
Rhett could not have agreed more. Illicit would be touring the States beginning in January, but their concert at American Airlines Center in Dallas wasn't scheduled until the end of April.
"Yeah. I kind of miss you." If she kept that up, she was going to get teary. That wasn't something she wanted him to see, so she changed the subject. "Was Santa Claus good to you this year?"
"He was very good to me. And would you mind explaining how he managed to sneak a gift from you into my luggage?"
She laughed at his wry expression. "You're doubting the abilities of a guy who can squeeze down chimneys all over the world in one short night?"
"Ha ha. You can imagine my surprise when I arrived at my flat here yesterday, opened my suitcase and found a brightly wrapped package with a tag that read 'To Rhys, with love from Rhett.' I know for damn sure I didn't pack it in there myself. How the hell did you do that?"
Pleased with the success of her surprise, she relented.
"It was Ross. I kind of stole his number off your phone and worked it out with him before y'all left the States.
I sent the package to him while y'all were rehearsing in California, and he dragged it with him until the other night when he snuck it into your luggage.
" An attack of nerves hit her, and she bit down gently on the inside of her lower lip. "Did you open it yet?"
"Last night." His smile warmed her and abated the nerves somewhat. "It's perfect."
"Do you know what it means?" She had driven herself crazy trying to come up with a gift for him.
Clothes? No. Gift card? Definitely not. Music downloads?
Ha bloody ha. She'd finally gotten on the internet and researched his name and discovered its meaning in Welsh.
A local jeweler engraved the word brwdfrydedd, the Welsh word for ardour, on a silver bar, and then affixed it to a long silver chain Rhys could wear around his neck. If he wanted to.
"Actually, I do. My grandmother was from Wales, and she's the one who suggested my name to my parents.
She always told me what Rhys meant, so I recognized it straight away.
" His smile widened. "I can't begin to tell you what a perfect gift this is.
I just wish I could be there to give you a gift in return. "
"I'm looking at you and talking to you," she said. "I don't need anything else."
His lips parted on a long indrawn breath at her words.
"Christ, Rhett, I really do miss you." A different voice came through the phone, a woman's voice calling his name.
He looked aside and nodded. "Yeah, be there in a minute.
" After a sigh of resignation, he looked back at Rhett.
"My sister calling me to the table. I'm going to have to ring off now. "
"I understand. I need to go wake up the lazy people here so we can have breakfast." She bit her lip again. "Rhys, I'm glad you called."
"So am I. And thank you for my gift." He touched his forefinger to his lips, then placed it against the camera lens of his phone. "Happy Christmas, Rhett."
Later that night after Lilith and Brendan left to return to Fort Worth, Rhett dragged herself into her bedroom.
The post-holiday letdown left her exhausted, and she was looking forward to soaking in a nice, hot bath before snuggling into bed.
But when she entered her room, her attention was caught by a slim, narrow package wrapped in red sitting in the middle of the bed.
"What in the world?" She sat down on the edge of the mattress and picked up the package.
It wasn't very big, about six inches in length, and half that in width.
It was light, and even when she shook it, it made no sound.
All of a sudden, Mel's smug expression earlier made sense.
Apparently, she'd been playing Santa for Rhys.
Smiling in anticipation, Rhett carefully removed the paper to find a plain white box.
Opening it, she saw a black velvet case, and her breath stopped for a moment.
This was the kind of thing she'd seen in movies.
God knows she'd never received a black velvet jeweler's case herself before.
With the same care she'd use to handle an armed explosive, she took the case from the box and opened it.
On a bed of white lay a delicate silver necklace.
At its center was the word selog, and just under that and offset a bit to the right, tanllyd.
Both words were spelled out in rows of tiny sapphires, and Rhett's hand went to her mouth in shock.
She could tell from the spelling that the words were Welsh, but she had no idea what they meant.
As she reached out a finger toward the necklace, she spied a folded piece of paper in the lid of the case. With shaking hands, she removed it and spread it out on the bed. Rhys's smooth, flowing handwriting covered the page.
I was curious one night, so I looked up the meaning of your name online. Your name is Welsh, and it means ardent and fiery. Those words in Welsh are selog and tanllyd. I told you the day we met your name suited you. Happy Christmas, Beautiful.
Love,
Rhys
P.S. I also discovered that the name Rhett is a form of Rhys. I'd say that was a coincidence, but I don't believe in those.
She had to dash tears from her eyes before she could type a text into her phone.
I don't believe in coincidences, either. So what is this? A case of great minds thinking alike? I love the necklace more than I can say. Merry Christmas.
The next morning, she awoke to his reply:
Whatever it is, I like it. A lot. A whole lot.