“Animal Haven.”
“Hey, beautiful. I just tried calling your cell.”
I smile at the sound of Rhett’s sexy voice. “Sorry, I didn’t even look to see who was calling. I’m trying to catch up on paperwork.”
“Do you need me to come back out there? I can help.”
“No, I’m good. You helped me a ton this morning. This is just boring stuff.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Are we still on for tonight?” he asks.
I smile at the thought of seeing him again. “Of course.”
“And we’re still on for dinner at mom’s tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I say.
“I’m glad you were able to talk your dad into coming.”
“It didn’t take much to convince him. He is thrilled to see your family.”
There’s a long pause and then Rhett clears his throat. “He’s probably not too thrilled about seeing me.”
It’s the first time Rhett has shown an insecurity about Dad’s feelings toward our break up, and I don’t like it. I want us to have a great time and enjoy everyone’s company without him being nervous or uncomfortable. “He doesn’t know everything that happened between us, Rhett, and I never made you out to be a bad person. It’s going to be fine, I promise. My dad loves you.”
I can almost hear Rhett relax through the phone. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I needed to hear that.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
“Okay, sweetheart. I’m going to let you get back to work. Call me if you need anything. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye, Rhett.”
I hang up the phone and smile. This time last year if you would’ve told me I’d be having dinner with Rhett and his family, I would’ve called you crazy. And if you would’ve told me that I would be back in Rhett’s bed, my eyes would’ve bugged out of my head. But, here I am, happier than I’ve been in a long time.
My gaze drifts across the room toward Ruby. She’s still curled up on her bed and it isn’t lost on me that she’s watched me go full circle. She watched me fall in love and subsequently break my own heart, and now she’s here to witness me get it put back together.
If dogs could talk, Ruby would have a million things to say.
Rhett
“She’s here.” Mom flings the dishrag over her shoulder and makes a beeline for the door. My hand on her arm stops her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To get that wonderful girl.”
My mom has been so excited since I told her Mo and Phil were coming for dinner. She’s spent the last few days stewing over what to make and finally settled on chicken and dumplings—Mo’s favorite.
“Slow down,” I laugh. “You’re going to scare her away.”
Mom palms the side of my cheek, her eyes going all misty. “I’m so happy. You haven’t stopped smiling since you got here, and you know how much I love Monroe.”
“Yes, I know,” I say, gently pulling her hand from my face.
“Can I go now?” she asks, a sparkle of hope in her eye.
“Fine.” I sigh. “Go.”
“I haven’t seen your mom move that fast since she walked down the aisle,” Dad says, stepping up beside me as we watch Mom barrel through the front door to greet Mo and Phil.
I look at Dad. “She walked fast down the aisle? Don’t most women go slow?”
He shrugs. “Your mom isn’t most women. And according to her, I was a flight risk.”
No way. My dad is the most stable, loyal person I know. “You were a flight risk?”
He nods and pats my back. “Yup, and so are you. Your mom says it’s in our blood. We chase the bull, and in your case, the buckle. Lucky for you, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and you know a good thing when you find it—you get that from me.” He smiles proudly.
“I’m not a flight risk.”
“I know you’re not, but she doesn’t know that,” he says, nodding toward Mo. “It’s never about what we think; it’s always about them—what they’re thinking, what they want. It’ll do you good to remember that. Your mom was worried about everything under the sun: how we would make it work, what would happen when I went on tour—the women, the temptation, everything. And all I could think about was her barefoot and pregnant in a home I built just for her.”
I step to the side and watch Mo help her dad out of the car. Mom holds the wheelchair in place, and when Phil is seated, she wraps Mo in a hug.
“I’m not following.”
Dad laughs. “It’ll make sense one of these days when you know you’ve found the one. She’ll be coming up with a million reasons why you can’t work, or she’ll worry about losing you to some buckle bunny, and all you’ll worry about is finding a way to make her yours before she realizes she can do so much better.”
I shoot Dad a look.
“Hypothetically speaking, of course, because no one is better than my son.”
“Damn right,” I say, turning my gaze back to Mo.
Dad’s words filter through my head as I watch from the porch. Mo’s dark hair hangs over her shoulders in loose waves. She’s wearing a pair of jeans, a pink blouse, and cowboy boots. When she looks up, her eyes catch mine, and for this one moment in time, everything seems right in the world. My heart slams inside my chest as though it’s trying to throw itself at her, and I have no choice but to follow its lead.
“You might be closer than you think,” Dad mumbles as I step off the porch.
Mo watches me walk across the yard. The closer I get, the bigger her smile grows, and when I’m close enough, I reach for her hand. I tug gently, pulling her against me to kiss her cheek.
“You look beautiful,” I whisper, as though I haven’t seen her in days. Only it hasn’t been days, it’s been hours. It’s been two days since our reunion, and we’ve spent as much of them as we can together. I’ve helped her at Animal Haven, and in the evenings after Phil is in bed, we’ve cuddled together on his front porch, looking at the stars and reminiscing about old times.
Her bright smile shines up at me, a pink tinge infusing her cheeks. She bites her lower lip, and I have to step away or risk getting a chubby in front of my parents and Phil.
When I turn to Phil, one side of his mouth is lifted up in what I believe to be a smile. It’s hard to tell, because the other side has a slight droop.
Phil was always larger than life. He had a big heart and an even bigger frame, and if he hadn’t showed up with Mo tonight, I’m not sure I would’ve recognized him. This is the same man who taught me how to shoe a horse and bopped me upside the head when he caught me ogling his fifteen-year-old daughter in her bikini. I have almost as many memories of Phil as I do of my own parents, and I have to swallow past a lump in my throat when I step toward him.
Unsure what he’s capable of, but not wanting to insult him, I hold out my hand and return his smile. “It’s good to see you, Phil.”
It takes a bit of time, but he manages to lift his hand. His grip isn’t nearly as strong as it once was, but I can tell he appreciates the gesture.
“It’s b-been way too l-long.”
“I know it has, sir.”
“Guess that’s n-not a problem anymore?” He glances up at Mo.
She blushes.
Mom smiles.
I laugh.
“No, sir, I suppose it isn’t. And I hope you’re hungry, because Mom made enough food to feed an army.”
He nods jerkily and pulls his hand back, resting it in his lap. “W-what are we w-w-waiting for?”
Mom scurries around to the back of Phil’s wheelchair and pushes him toward the house. I wait until they’re a few steps ahead of us and grab Mo’s hand. Her fingers lace with mine.
“How was it getting him here?” I ask.
“Good. It’s not hard to transport him. He’s able to help me out quite a bit, and I owe most of that to his therapist
s.”
“How many does he have?”
“Just physical and occupational. They come in a couple of times a week, and his caregivers are good at working with him too. Where’s everyone else?” she asks, looking at the empty driveway.
“Mom didn’t want to overwhelm your dad by inviting the whole tribe over on his first trip here.”
She looks up at me. “First trip, huh?”
“If I play my cards right, I’m hoping there’ll be some more family dinners, and a few dates scattered in there, too.”
“Rhett.” Mo stops and tugs my hand. “My life isn’t normal. I can’t just pick up and go out on a date with you or come to one of your shows, and I don’t want you to feel like—”
My mouth on hers stops everything. Her words melt away, and all the jumbled mess of feelings I’ve had lately seem to work themselves out as I lose myself in this kiss. Her hands dip into my hair, and she grips it tightly, pulling me close. My tongue pushes into her mouth, and off in the distance, I register the sound of someone clearing their throat.
Shit. We have an audience.
Mo must hear it at the same time, because she pulls back. Her eyes are hooded, lips swollen. When she places her fingers over her mouth, I pull them away and kiss her again.
“We’re going to finish that kiss later.”
“And the conversation,” she adds softly.
“Would you give the girl some room to breathe?” Dad chides, shouldering past me.
Mo steps into his embrace—a testament to how close our families have been over the years. And probably to how close she’s remained to mine.
“It’s great to see you again, sweetheart.”
“You too, Mr. Allen.”
Dad scoffs. “What did I say about calling me that? It’s Sawyer.”
Putting his arm around her shoulders, he leads her into the house. I follow, and when she tips her head back and laughs at something he says, I can’t help but feel like this is right where she belongs.
Monroe
After dinner, Vivian insists we eat dessert outside. She grabs the plates and forks, along with a pitcher of tea. Rhett picks up the apple pie, and I push my dad outside.
“Here you go, Daddy.” I situate his wheelchair as close to the table as it can get. Vivian serves the pie on paper plates, pushing one over in front of my dad.
Out of habit, I grab his fork, and Dad glares at me as best he can. “I c-could’ve gotten th-that.”
“I know you could’ve.”
Rather than putting the fork in his hand, I hold it out and wait for him to take it. Then I step back.
“Here you go, dear.” Vivian hands me a plate, but I politely decline.
“Oh, no, thank you. It looks fantastic, but I’m stuffed from dinner.”
“Well, then, more for me.” Rhett takes my plate from his mother, and we sit down at the table.
Eating out—or at another person’s house—isn’t something Dad and I do. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve done this in the last six years. A million scenarios float around my head as I watch Dad guide an unsteady hand toward the pie.
What if he spills his food or drops his fork—which he often does—and gets embarrassed? Or worse yet, what if the chicken and dumplings goes right through him and I can’t get him to the bathroom in time?
I clearly didn’t think this through when we agreed to come over.
As best as he can, Dad scoops a chunk of pie onto his fork. It wobbles precariously, and I reach out, wrapping my hand around his to steady it. Together we guide it to his mouth.
I wait for him to chew, and when he reaches for another bite, I scoot closer. Only this time, Dad shakes his head and pulls the fork away.
“N-no, Mo,” he says with as much authority as he can muster.
“I’m just trying to help you, Dad.”
“I d-don’t want your h-help.”
“Dad—”
His sharp gaze causes the words to die on my tongue.
“A-all through dinner you h-hovered over m-m-me.”
“I don’t hover.”
“Yes, y-you do. It’s embarrassing, M-Mo.”
His soft-spoken words settle low in my gut, causing a ripple of nausea. Is that what I do? I think back over all the times I’ve fed him or taken over after he’s tried so hard to do something on his own, and tears fill my eyes.
On the edge of losing my shit in front of everyone, I excuse myself from the table and walk toward the house. For the first time since his stroke, I don’t go to my father when he calls out for me.
The door shuts quietly behind me—either that or I just can’t hear it because of the blood rushing in my ears. Bracing my hands on the counter, I lower my head.
Dad’s therapists have told me before that I enable him, that I need to let him be more independent and do the small things he’s capable of doing—like feeding himself.
Shit.
I blink up, looking out the window over the sink. My dad is talking and eating with Vivian and Sawyer as if nothing happened.
“You okay?” Rhett asks.
Pressing a hand to my chest, I gasp. “You scared me.”
He brushes the hair off my shoulder and kisses the side of my neck. “Sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
He follows my gaze out the window. Snaking his arms around my waist, he props his chin on my shoulder. “What’s going through that head of yours?”
I take a deep breath and blow it out. “I’ve hindered my father’s recovery.”
“What do you mean?” He leans against the counter so he can look me in the eye.
“For the last six years I’ve treated him as if he were my child, and for the longest time, that’s how it was. But he’s gained so much strength. He can do a lot on his own now, and I’ve continued to treat him like a child.”
“You’ve taken care of him. Do you know how many people would do what you did? What you continue to do?”
He runs his fingers down my arm to my hand.
Tilting my head, I look at him. “Most people would do this for someone they love.”
“I disagree. There are a lot of selfish people in this world, and you are definitely not one of them. You put your entire life on hold to keep him out of a nursing home. You need to cut yourself some slack.”
Easier said than done when regret is involved. “He can feed himself, but it takes a while, and sometimes I get impatient. Or I’m stressed and it’s just easier to do things myself than wait for him. He’s never complained, until today.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re here. Maybe it’s us that’s making him uncomfortable.”
I shake my head. I know for a fact it’s not. I’ve spent an incredible amount of time with my father since his stroke, and I’ve learned to read him. I could see it in his eyes. He’s been wanting to say something for a while.
“I think he’s tried to tell me; I’ve just never listened.”
“Sounds like you need to sit down and have a talk with your dad.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say, turning back toward the window. “He looks happy, though, right?”
“Yes. But are you happy?”
I sigh, resting my head back on Rhett’s shoulder when he steps up behind me. “More than I have been in a long time.” Turning in his arms, I splay my hands out across his chest, slide them over his broad shoulders, and push up on my toes to kiss his lips.
“Now, I have a surprise.”
I smile against Rhett’s mouth. “You’re sweet for planning a surprise, but I’m not sure I should leave Dad.”
“Too late. He’s already insisted that you come with me. I think his exact words were ‘That girl could use a few surprises in her boring life’. He’ll be here with my mom and dad.”
“He didn’t say that.” I laugh.
“Oh, yes he did. Come on.” Rhett pulls my hands, leading me toward the back door. “We won’t be gone long, an hour or two tops.”
&nb
sp; “An hour or two? What are you planning to do?”
He winks. “You, if I’m lucky.”
A little while later, I squeal in delight as Shadow jumps over a log. It’s been years since I was on a horse. I can hardly believe I let Rhett talk me into it now, but he promised to bring back the best memories of our time together, and how was I supposed to say no to that?
Rhett is on Sadie, a few paces ahead of us. “Duck!” he yells, and I have just enough time to lower my head before it gets taken off by a branch.
My hair whips around my head, the warm sun beating against my face, and for the first time in a long time, I feel free. I push Shadow faster as Rhett picks up speed.
I know exactly where he’s taking me. I knew it the second we started down this path, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that the horses still remember where to go. The overgrowth on the trail indicates how long it’s been since anyone was out here, and that makes my heart both happy and sad.
As teenagers, Rhett and I would ride out here to watch the sunset. It was our secret spot, and the memories this little chunk of land holds are immeasurable.
Shadow slows to a trot when the brush clears and we hit the meadow. Rhett glances over his shoulder and nods to the left. I can’t fight the smile that creeps across my face when a giant oak tree comes into view. It sits about ten feet from the pond and represents so many firsts for us.
With my back against the bark, he kissed me for the first time.
On a blanket in the sun on a warm summer day, he made love to me for the first time.
Wrapped in each other’s arms on a cool fall evening, we said goodbye for the very first time.
He was off to be a professional bull rider. I was off to college. That was the last time I was out here, and I can still feel the stabbing pain in my chest that began as we walked away from the tree all those years ago.
Before I have a chance to stick my emotions back into perfect little boxes, Rhett hops off of Sadie and grabs Shadow’s reins. I swing a leg over the side and slide off while he ties the horses up.
Take Me To The Beach Page 13