Chapter 48 #2
I smile. Their similarities are uncanny.
They both have the same mahogany brown eyes that match their mother’s, but even more so, the warmth behind them.
Duke’s hair is shorter than Rhett’s, but still that same sandy blond shade that lays a bit messy atop his head.
And next to him is their father. His eyes are also brown, but much lighter than his sons’.
Beyond that, they all have that same shit-eating grin I didn’t trust when I first met Rhett, but have quickly grown fond of.
His dad removes his hat and places it on the hook by the door before extending his hand to shake mine. “I’m Henry. Glad to be in the presence of a woman who can handle the Rogers’ chaos,” he chuckles. “Heard a lot about ya.”
I shake his hand and smile back. “Happy to be here and to contribute to the chaos.” His grip is strong, but simultaneously gentle.
Callouses scrape across my skin as he pulls his hand away.
He’s shorter than Rhett, but not by a lot, and his face is adorned with smile lines around his eyes and mouth.
The kind you get from genuinely being more happy than not.
He claps his hand on the back of Rhett’s shoulder.
“Happy to have ya home, son.” He says it like he means it.
It’s not that same tone you hear when someone at a grocery store asks how you’re doing and you politely respond that you’re doing well even if you’re living a week from hell.
It’s simple, but obvious. Something I think I’ll find a lot while being amongst their family.
And I don’t think they take it for granted.
Lettie exits the dining room and hugs Duke before giving Henry a kiss.
The look in their eyes and the softness in their voices makes me believe the exact opposite.
Like they know they are lucky to have what they do, and that they cherish it.
“Ma, tell me it’s time to eat,” Duke jokingly groans.
“Duke’s as bad as the cows. Damn near bellows about somethin’ from sunrise to sunset.
” Henry pokes fun at Duke and Lettie, while the boys’ laughter fills the space with a kind of connection I’m amazed by.
Their fondness of one another is warm and inviting, and it doesn’t feel like I’m on the outskirts of an inside joke, but rather welcomed into it.
My worry eases at how natural it feels to be with them. I can tell they have no intention of grilling me to see if I’m fit for Rhett. That they are just as open to me as he said they would be.
Lettie places her hand on her hip. “Yes, son, the food’s ready. Go wash up and grab a spot at the table.”
We all do as we’re told and find a seat.
The natural cherrywood table is a nice contrast to the eggshell colored walls. Placemats mark each spot at the table with blue and white pinstripes that match the curtains.
My senses are enveloped with the smell of mashed potatoes and gravy.
Warm garlic fills the air as Lettie pulls a chicken from the oven and places it on the dining room table.
There’s home-made biscuits and cinnamon scented steam rises from the warm apple pie.
The space is small, warm, and welcoming.
Each of us takes a seat at the table and I find myself next to Rhett and Lettie.
We mostly eat in silence, a few jokes sputtered here and there, and Henry tells everyone the story of Duke finding his ass after trying to touch Juniper’s calf.
When the time comes to clean up, the boys all offer to help Lettie, but she dismisses them, only accepting my invitation to help instead.
The clean up isn’t hard. Since they all practically licked their plates clean, there isn’t any scraping or tossing things away, there isn’t even left overs. She’s either got the boys down to a science or they’d rather stuff themselves than give her more to do.
Lettie fills the sink with suds as I carry the plates to the counter.
Turning away from her, I look over the room.
It’s cozy like the rest of the house. There isn’t a dishwasher in sight, just warm oak cabinets, clean white and gold speckled formica countertops, and a fridge filled to the max with notes and drawings signed by Duke and Rhett.
Years of memories all hanging on for dear life by magnets.
From a note that says “from brother to brother”, to a stick family drawing that’s signed by Rhett but spelled wrong.
I can’t help but wish to have been a fly on a wall each time something made the cut to be fridge-worthy.
“Sorry for the mess,” she says, turning and leaning against the counter to take in the same view as me. “Couldn’t seem to let a single one of those drawings go.”
“No, it’s perfect.” My words come out softer than intended, so I clear my throat.
“It’s fun to see that even a fridge can be filled with love.
” I hate the idea of sharing my family life twice in one day, especially with a mere stranger that I really want to like me, so I add, “Rhett’s always telling me he’s a mama’s boy. Clearly, both your boys cherish you.”
Happiness shines within her eyes, and I turn back toward the sink, realizing that maybe I would have been better off not putting multiple rooms between Rhett and I because I suck at making small talk.
I grab the yellow sponge placed neatly in the frog holder by the faucet and start to wash the dishes.
She releases a happy sigh before grabbing the dish I just rinsed and drying it.
“Thank you.” Her voice comes out calm, but I sense sadness in her appreciation.
“Oh, no problem.” I offer her a soft smile before focusing my attention back on the task at hand. “There really aren’t that many dishes. I’m happy to help. Thank you for the meal, it was incredible.”
She chuckles. “Well, thank you for the help too, but, also, thank you for reminding me to appreciate those. They’ve become a permanent fixture, something I see, but sometimes forget to admire.
Maybe because they’re bittersweet. My babies are grown now, they don’t make me little drawings or listen to every word I say.
Not like the days when I hung everything they made special for me. ”
It makes sense to me why Rhett is how he is. How a gentle reminder can bring his mom to tears is just another obvious sign that he is who he is because he was loved with everything she had.
I know at some point in my life, Mom had openly shown she loved me, but it feels so foreign and far away it’s like a fever dream I can’t quite remember.
How much different would life be now if Mom hadn’t completely withdrawn into herself when my dad left?
I wish my mother would have given me even a fraction of the love and affection that Lettie gives Rhett and Duke.
The thought forces my throat to tighten and an ache in my chest for what could have been.
She brings her forearm to her eye and wipes away a tear.
“Oh my, I didn’t think today would be emotional,” she chuckles out.
“Especially while washing dishes. Rhett probably told you I’m a cryer.
” Another laugh escapes her. “You know, he has never once brought a girl home. Never talked about a girl or gave wind that he liked someone as more than a friend. You must really mean a lot to him.”
I like knowing that I’m the only girl that’s ever been introduced as more.
Rhett has reiterated that no girl was ever anything more than a sexcapade, a once off fling for fun then done.
And truly, that’s how all my interactions have been too, but it feels even better knowing the obviousness of the weight our relationship carries.
Like they don’t have to wonder if I’m one of many because he never made that a thing.
“He means so much to me too.” I don’t say it because it’s what she wants to hear, though I’m sure as a mother she does, but the more I’m surrounded by him, the more I realize that he’s the sunshine to my hurricane.
He pulls the sadness from my chest and replaces it with laughter, and seeing his family dynamic only further proves what a future with him would look like.
“Thank you for welcoming me into your home and for being so nice. I’ll admit, I was nervous. ”
“I’d be a lot more concerned if you weren’t. That just means you care, sweetie.” She piles the last dish into the cabinets before hanging the towel to dry.
She’s right, and, honestly, I now picture her that way.
Strong, while still being sensitive. Holding the family together with her softness and raising boys into men who know what real love looks like.
I know they know struggle, and yet they’ve found a way to wrap those life lessons in a warm hug.
It makes sense to me she didn’t want Rhett to give up on his dream, but it makes even more sense to me that she let him take the steps to do what he needed to anyway.
Because she always planned to be here for him, no matter the outcome.
After finishing up the dishes, the five of us retreat to the cozy living room where they share stories and ask me about my own.
Not in an invasive way. They’re all perfectly polite and seem more than happy to accept any crumb of information I give up about myself.
But I never feel pressured to give more than I want.
For which I am eternally grateful. Most of the time they let me lead the conversation, and it feels nice to get to know them without getting into anything negative.
Oddly enough, I feel at home with them, and I hope they like me as much as I like them.
Time goes by quickly and before long it’s time to leave. “Better head out so we can stop and see Juniper’s calf,” Rhett says.
We all say our goodbyes. Lettie hugs me last. “It was lovely to meet you. Welcome to the family.” Her words are shared just between us, something shy of a whisper, and it drives me to hug her a bit tighter.
Warmth blossoms in my chest, and I fight back tears.
How is it that in one short evening Rhett’s family made me feel more welcomed, more loved than I have in a very long time?
We get in the truck and wave once more before it rumbles to life and we pull away from the house. Rhett honks his horn twice as we drive out of sight.
“Why did you honk?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“It’s one last goodbye. We’ve done it as long as I can remember, and now it’s just second nature.”
The closeness they have is such a stark difference to what I’ve known, but every twist and turn makes me want more of that kind of love.
The simple things like a second goodbye aren’t as simple as they seem, because I know that one day that second goodbye won’t come and the absence of it will be monumental.