“It’s not thirty. It’s twelve, and you don’t have to cover yourself in them.”
He sets his jaw and shakes his head in irritation. “Still don’t need so many out here. It’s like a goddamn slumber party.”
“What crawled up your ass today? It’s just blankets, and you’re ready to have my head on a platter.”
Rhett remains quiet, stabbing the buttons on the remote control like it’s offended him, as he pushes another blanket from the ottoman to the floor with his feet.
“Hey! That’s a special one! Don’t be such an ass!”
Rushing over, I grab the blanket off the floor, hugging it to my chest like I need to protect it…or me. I’m not sure which rightnow. Rhett has never acted like this since I moved in. I know it’s only been a month, but he can’t be changing his mind already, can he?
“Do you want me to leave?” I ask softly.
That seems to snap him out of his mood, and he drops the remote. He crosses the room, and when his gaze meets mine, I recognize the pain there.
“Tell me, Rhett. I can’t understand if you don’t tell me.”
He gently takes the blanket from my arms and wraps it over my shoulders before pulling me against his chest. “I’m sorry.” His words are quiet as he holds me, and I clutch him back.
“I forgive you, but tell me what’s wrong, Rhett. This isn’t like you.”
“I just…the blanket just pissed me off because… because today is my grandfather’s birthday, and it seemed like something I could just get mad at.” He sighs and squeezes me tighter. “His favourite colour was yellow. The blanket is yellow and…yeah. I’m just in a bit of a mood, and I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m just missing him today.”
Rhett doesn’t release his hold, so I stay where I am, wrapped in one of my favourite blankets that remind him of someone special he lost and still misses.
“Want to tell me about him? I know you helped at his restaurant, and he was a father figure, but not much else. Did he like music or tease you about the way you styled your hair as a teenager?”
He snorts a laugh, and I’ll take the small win. As we’ve been unpacking, we fell into old photo albums of his, and his teenage pictures were something else. I’ve never seen a mullet on a man that made me laugh so hard.
Rhett finally releases me and pulls me to the couch next to him, tucking me under his arm and holding me close.
“He loved ABBA. We used to have all their CDs in his ancient disc player. It’s all he would sing in the kitchen.”
“You know all the words to every song, don’t you?”
Another smile graces his face. “I do, and if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
“I bet it slips out sometimes. I’m going to play ABBA at the café next time you have a meeting there and see if you sing along.”
Rhett’s sparkle returns to his eyes, and he kisses my temple.
“Thank you, Dee. Sometimes I stew in things and take them out on people. I just missed him this morning, and it kinda stayed all day.”
“I think it’s normal to miss people we love. Never stuff that down. I bet he’d love this house, and if you ever want to talk more about him, I’ll listen.”
Rhett relaxes back and draws me closer. His hand absently rubs my arm as he tells me the story of how his grandfather bought him his first bike, but didn’t know how to ride one himself. He was so excited to give it to Rhett when he was ten, but didn’t know what to do with it. Rhett’s voice is lighter as he laughs, retelling how he’ll never forget his grandfather telling him it can’t be that hard because everyone compares things to riding a bike.
“I think you’re a lot like him and don’t even notice, you know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he learned to ride a bike with you and didn’t give up. You did that by riding broncs. You said you didn’t know how and just did it until you were good at it.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“No, maybe. You cook like it’s second nature and whip up a version of cannoli at a moment’s notice. He taught you all that, and as long as you keep doing it, he’s never gone. Know what I mean?”
“I do.”
