Page 80 of Storm Warning
“See, she’s not too bad. Already wants to show ya the baby books. That’s got to be a good sign.” His words snap me from my daze and I glance up, finding his brows knit together, his lips in a frown. “Ya alright?”
“Yeah, I just realized I don’t have anything like this to show you.”
“Ya can tell me about the memories ya liked and we’ll make new ones. Bet Ma would be thrilled to create a Kaylee book.”
A lump forms in my throat that I can’t seem to swallow. Unshed tears burn in the rim of my eyes. God, he really is perfect, isn’t he? Swooping in to save the day, even when he isn’t trying. “I like the sound of that,” I all but whisper.
We flip through the pages, and under each photo are hand-written dates and mentions of where or why they were taken. Page one is all photos of Rhett and his parents at the hospital. Lettie looks younger and her hair is longer, but she is still just as beautiful and warm now as she was then. Next to her is clearly his dad. Rhett couldn’t deny the man if he wanted to. Their only difference is the mustache his father wears. His eyes are kind, and you can tell that he viewed that moment asone of his favorites. A smile filled with life, filled with joy. Funny enough, he’s exactly how I pictured.
“You were so cute,” I confess.
“Were? Have ya seen me now?” He chuckles as he lays his head atop mine and flips the page.
Every page we turn is a new milestone. From walking, to the birth of Duke, and riding a bike, all the way to graduation. Each picture a story I want to hear, but feel happy to also see. By the time we reach the end, the front door swings open and in walks his dad and Duke. We both rise to say hello.
“Ya pick up a stray?” Duke says as his eyes flicker between Rhett and I.
I cut in before Rhett has a chance. “Yeah, I found him on the side of the road. He seemed harmless, but he only likes grape jelly beans and coffee, so I might take him back.”
His dad and brother look at each other, then back at me, and burst into laughter. “Dammit, I like her already.” Duke can barely catch his breath. “Without a doubt, ya have to be the angel with a bit of fire he’s constantly yappin’ about.”
I look back at Rhett, and he raises his hands like this is a stick up. “Listen, I prepared ya both for each other.”
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 tocontribute 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 mashedpotatoes 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 familylife 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.
