“That’s gorgeous!” Even at a distance, Rayne could tell it was an antique glass ornament, which he loved. The early twentieth century glass ornaments appealed to the historian in him. “We need to use that one for sure.”
“There should be a male dancer that matches her,” Emilio said, handing Rayne the female figure and digging back into the box. After a moment, he smiled victoriously, holding up a male flamenco dancer in the same style. “I think my parents got these on their honeymoon in Spain.”
The boxes proved to be a treasure trove, though there were also some kitschy ornaments of more modern vintage, cartoon figures and mementos Emilio commented were from family trips. One box proved to be full of hand-carved wooden angels, and Emilio smiled as he showed them to Rayne. “My grandfather was a country doctor. People called him their angel because he was their only access to medical care, and someone carved a wooden angel for him. He made such a fuss over it that more patients started giving him angels. There must be a hundred in here.”
“We should use them on the tree in the family room,” Rayne said. “I don’t want that one to be a showpiece. I want it to be personal.”
Seeing all the antique ornaments was giving him ideas for a more rustic and vintage theme for the family room than he usually got to create.
“Sure, that would work,” Emilio said. He’d pulled his hair back in a ponytail, but strands had escaped, and he pushed them back from his face. “I see what you mean about needing clear boxes for these things. I suppose I should sort the ones that are valuable from the junk.” He held up a sand dollar on a ribbon, one that had obviously been painted by a child. “I made this in kindergarten.”
“Value is relative when it comes to things like this,” Rayne said, taking the sand dollar and holding it carefully. “Isabel would probably consider this one priceless. If you want to sort them, we can do that. I’d say for now only put aside the ones that are damaged beyond repair or that no one has a sentimental attachment to.”
“That makes sense.” They made their way through the boxes, sorting things carefully into piles. Then Emilio pulled over the final box, opening the flaps and peering inside. He didn’t say anything, but he bit his lower lip as he looked down at the contents.
Rayne skirted around the boxes and stood beside him, watching him with concern. “What is it?”
“It’s… things I thought I’d gotten rid of a long time ago,” he said. He looked at Rayne and then leaned back so Rayne could see the item on top, which was a framed 8x10 photograph of the two of them kissing beneath a hanging cluster of mistletoe. It had been taken their senior year in high school by Emilio’s mother, who had caught them by surprise.
Seeing the photo sent a sharp pang through Rayne, a mixture of regret and longing that made him draw in a startled breath. “We were so young,” he said softly. “It feels like forever ago.”
“Almost half our lives,” Emilio replied. He picked up the photo and looked beneath it. “Mama must have put these away. I thought I’d thrown them out. It’s all the pictures of you and me over the years, and… God, the letters you wrote me.”
“I can’t say I blame you for wanting to chuck everything,” Rayne said with a rueful little smile.
Emilio shrugged, the movement seeming pained. “It took a while for me to reach that point. At first…” He looked at Rayne hesitantly and then the words came flowing out as though he couldn’t stop them. “At first, I thought you might come home and tell me it had all been a horrible mistake. I used to dream about you begging me to take you back. I thought maybe you’d met someone else and wanted to be free to sleep around without feeling like you were cheating on me. I told myself I could forgive that because I loved you. It wasn’t until you graduated from college and it was obvious you were really gone that I tossed everything out. I even thought of burning it, but Mama convinced me that was stupid.” He paused. “Did you ever want me back? Or did you just forget me and move on?”
Answering the question honestly meant Rayne had to put himself out on a precarious limb, but Emilio deserved the truth. If nothing else, maybe it would help heal old wounds.
“I never forgot you,” he said, clasping Emilio’s hand loosely. “I still have our photos and your letters, and yes, there were times when I thought about coming back and asking you to forgive me for making such a big mistake.”
Emilio entwined his fingers with Rayne’s. “I wish you had. I missed you, you know. Not just as a boyfriend, but as my best friend, too. It was hard after you went away, because there was no one else who understood me the way you did.”
“I’m sorry,” Rayne said, squeezing Emilio’s fingers gently. “I missed you too.”
“And then you fell in love with someone else.” Emilio pulled his hand away. He drew in a deep breath and shook his head. “Forget I said that.”
“I don’t mind talking about it if it would help you,” Rayne said, letting his hand fall back to his side.
But Emilio grimaced. “Sorry, I have no desire at all to hear about him. Call it immature if you want, but I’d rather not think about what he had that I didn’t.”
Rayne frowned slightly and shook his head. “What do you mean? What did he have that you didn’t?”
Emilio leaned back. “Oh, come on, Rayne. I mean I’d rather not know if he was better looking, or better in bed, or smarter, or richer, or more supportive of you, or more ambitious than I was, all right?”
The lightbulb went off in Rayne’s head, and he waved both hands. “No, I wasn’t going to get into any of that. Sorry, I thought you meant something like he had my heart and you didn’t, because that’s not true.”
“Well, neither of us ended up with it in the end.” Emilio shoved the box of memorabilia back against a wall before turning and picking up a box of ornaments. “Shall we get these downstairs?”
“Sure.” Rayne mustered a smile and hefted the nearest box. “We can sort through everything and decide what’s going on the showcase tree and what’s going on the family room tree. Then I can make a list of what I need to fill in, and we can go get the trees.”
“All right.” Emilio led the way downstairs. It took several trips, but they got all the boxes down to the foyer. When they dropped off the last load, Emilio dusted off his hands. “Do you want to pick up newer lights while we’re out, too? The ones I have are all really old.”
“Then yes, I need to add lights to the list,” Rayne said. “LEDs will last longer and be less of a strain on your electricity bill. I think white for the tree in the foyer and maybe multicolor for the family tree.” He felt like he was babbling, but taking refuge in work seemed like the best option.
“All right. Let me make sure I turned off the oven and then get my jacket and we can go.” Emilio headed back toward the kitchen. “Do you need anything before we leave?”
“I left my coat in my car,” Rayne said. “I’ll get it and meet you outside.”
Escaping the house and all its pervasive memories was a relief, even though it meant he was about to be alone with Emilio in the small enclosed interior of a truck. He got his coat out of the car and shrugged into it, and he checked the pockets to see if he had a knitted hat stuffed in there. He usually did, and this time was no different, so he put that on as well since they’d be outside for a while.
Maybe if he focused on talking about his plans for decorating the house, things wouldn’t get too awkward—or at least no more awkward than they already were.
