by Jenny Hale
Holly took in a breath, still trying to get past the reaction she’d caused in Nana with the sander. She hadn’t meant to bring back any uncomfortable memories for her. Perhaps she should focus on the present so they both didn’t fall apart. “I thought I might try to paint this and spruce it up.”
“Mm.” Nana bent over to see the area she’d sanded. “It’s pretty under all that paint.”
“I thought so too. I wondered if I might sand it down and then keep it sort of rustic—just use a sealer or something. Maybe some southern drawer pulls with a bit of character…”
Nana smiled. “I think you know what you’re doing, so I’ll leave you to it.”
As Nana left, Holly felt an overpowering need to take care of every piece of furniture that Papa had so lovingly put into the cabin.
* * *
Nana grimaced when Holly helped her onto the front porch. She had a long coat, buttoned all the way up around her matching wool scarf, her hat pulled down over her white hair and her gloved hands in her pockets.
“How many heaters did Otis say he had?” Nana asked. She had called Otis earlier to find out more about the gathering before making a final decision. She’d allowed a little smile when Otis said it didn’t matter who came, because if Nana was the only one there, that would be just fine with him, and he’d delight in reminiscing about the old times.
“A whole town’s worth,” Holly answered.
She was so happy Nana had decided to go with them. Nana had protested at first, worried about moving around so many people all night, but it was Joe that had convinced her, telling her he needed her to protect him from Tammy at all times. He said at some point Holly would have to get them all drinks and he wasn’t sure he could handle Tammy alone. With Nana’s lips struggling to keep their frown, she got up and combed her hair.
Just like Tammy said, Buddy’s tractor came clattering around from behind the cabin, the plow clearing the land as it went. Joe offered Nana one arm and Holly the other. Only because of her still-sore ankle did Holly take it. The three of them stepped slowly down each stair until they reached flat ground. Buddy slung open the door.
His weathered face emerged as they neared him.
“Jeany, you comin’ too? Don’t make me get you out on that dance floor.”
Nana rolled her eyes, but she didn’t look overly bothered by Buddy. After all, she’d known him since they were kids. “I haven’t gone by Jeany since I was about twelve. Are you trying to wind me up, Buddy?”
“Always!”
“Well, I’m not doing any dancing on a barn floor.”
“You sure? Rhett’s gonna play.”
Nana’s gaze flew over to Holly protectively, but there was also an excitement there that made Holly feel like she’d been punched in the stomach. Holly smiled uneasily, not wanting to cause a lot of drama in front of Joe. But she was kicking herself now for not warning Nana that Rhett would be there. By the look on Nana’s face, she missed Rhett a whole lot more than she’d let on over the years.
“Who’s Rhett?” Joe asked, addressing Buddy first and then Holly when Buddy didn’t answer.
“Just a guy who used to live here.” Holly made eye contact with neither Nana nor Buddy when she said it, knowing that her answer wasn’t at all sufficient to describe who Rhett really was, but what could she say?
That night on Papa’s porch, Rhett said he was going on tour, and then he just disappeared, without even a phone call. He said he’d call, but Holly reckoned that he’d gotten busy and the days escaped him. Rhett lived in the moment and, while he hadn’t spoken to them, she knew that he’d pick up right where he left off the minute they were together again. That was just how he was. He was like family, and she cared about him whether he called or not, but the fact that he didn’t tore her heart out. Especially when Rhett hadn’t called when Papa died. It took Holly quite a while to get over it. However, she had, and she’d just assumed Nana had too. They’d moved on without him. So why in the world would Nana care one bit whether he was there tonight or not?
Holly noticed Joe still studying her, and it was clear that he could read the heat in her cheeks and the slight buzz of electricity in her veins. He didn’t believe her answer one bit.
“If Rhett’s got his guitar,” Nana said to Buddy, “then I might let you give me a spin or two on that floor.” She let go of Joe’s arm and wrapped her gloved hand around the support bar of the tractor. “Holly, help me up into this thing.”
Joe and Holly gingerly lifted Nana inside and then climbed into the cab themselves. Joe closed the door, the four of them packed in a line on the icy cold bench of the tractor like sardines.
“Hold on!” Buddy said, putting it into gear, the engine groaning in protest. “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!”
As he started down the steep drive, Holly couldn’t help but think about exactly how bumpy things could get…
Thirteen
“Oh, no,” Joe said under his breath, just loud enough for Holly to hear, when they pulled up in front of the barn. He nodded toward the open doorway where Tammy was waving madly, an enormous smile on her face.
“She likes to dance too…” Holly said, teasing him, and Joe chuckled. Seeing him smile gave her a punch of happiness. Joe had this way about him sometimes that was a little sad or anxious—she didn’t know him well enough to really label it—but then he’d smile and the mood just lifted in this glorious way.
Joe opened the tractor door and the twangs of guitar over the amplifiers sailed toward Holly right through the barn walls—she knew it was Rhett. Her shoulders tensed up, and an unexpected stabbing sensation formed at her left temple. She stared at the large, red barn, the paint a little faded but still vibrant against the snow, memories now sliding into her consciousness faster than she could push them away. She tried to focus on something else. Through the open doors, it looked like twinkle lights had been hung inside, and she could see the yellow flicker of the propane patio heaters.
The sound of a throat clearing brought her back to herself, and she comprehended finally that it was Joe, his hand outstretched as he stood in the snow, looking at her questioningly. Holly realized she’d lost time for a second, and just now noticed that Tammy had already reached them, her arm around Nana, having taken her up to the door, and was leading her inside.
“You okay?” Joe asked.
Holly nodded and held his hand, his grip tight, keeping her steady in the slippery snow as she stepped down, and turned back to Buddy. “Thank you for coming to get us,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am!” Buddy returned as if it had been his duty. “I’ve got a few more folks to pick up and then I’ll be inside to tease Jeany a little more.”
Holly laughed. “I’m sure Nana will look forward to it.” She noticed as she spoke that the guitar sounds had gone quiet. Just the idea of Rhett walking around, in close proximity, made her heart rate speed up. She didn’t welcome any awkward conversations tonight. She just wanted to enjoy herself and have a little fun.
Buddy’s tractor started down the field toward the road as Joe and Holly made their way to the party.
“How’s your ankle?” he asked, looking down at her.
“It’s okay. I can walk on it now and I don’t need to limp, so that’s a good sign, but it’s still sore. I think I just twisted it really badly.”
“I did notice you were walking better. Glad to see it.” He got that sparkle in his eye the way he did just before he made a joke—she was starting to learn it. “Tammy’s going to need someone to keep her busy on the dance floor…”
“Aw, you know you’d like to practice some good ol’ line dancing.”
Joe’s eyes bulged. “Will they be doing that?”
“If they drink enough of Otis’s iced tea they might.” She laughed. “If anyone offers you a mason jar that Otis poured, run in the other direction.”
“Okay. Anything else I need to know before we enter?”
Holly wasn’t able to respond because Tammy had
already pushed herself between them and locked arms with them both. “I got your nana inside. She’s sitting at one of the tables.”
“Thank you,” Holly said, already feeling festive as the warmth of the heaters hit her.
The barn was full of tables and chairs, and piles of hay surrounded those that didn’t have chairs for sitting. There were tea candles in old jelly jars everywhere and white Christmas lights strung on all the surfaces. A spindly spruce tree, held up by bricks and adorned with red and green plaid bows, filled the space in the corner. Holly’s eyes followed the lights and, as they settled on the loft, an icy chill swallowed her when she saw that familiar guitar in its stand behind the microphone. Holly kept her gaze on it, because she was too afraid to look around and find Rhett.
The pain over his absence made her want to run for the hills right now. She’d finally become comfortable again, without him. It had taken quite a while, but she’d managed, and now it didn’t seem odd not to have him with her anymore. Not until now.
“If you’re looking for the musician,” Joe’s voice came into her ear, giving her a shiver, “he’s talking to your grandmother.”
Holly tore her stare from the guitar and slowly turned to find Nana—smiling as she talked to Rhett. He looked… healthy and happy. He’d grown some stubble on his face, and his hair was actually styled a little in the front now, made to have that messy look. His fingers were hooked on the back pockets of his jeans, his crooked grin evident as he shook his head at something Nana was saying. A surge of anger bubbled in the pit of Holly’s stomach. Rhett had waltzed right in and managed to make Nana smile first try.
In mid-sentence, Rhett caught sight of Holly and stopped talking altogether. Nana looked her way too. Holly wasn’t sure what came over her—maybe it was her sore ankle, maybe it was an attempt not to fall over at the sight of Rhett—but, as Rhett left Nana and began to walk toward them, Holly grabbed Joe’s arm and held onto him, making Rhett stop, his attention moving to Joe.
Before they could speak, Tammy sloshed a mason jar in between the three of them. “Who wants some of Otis’s iced tea?” She turned her face to Holly’s and under her breath said, “Girl, you’d better have the first one. ”
Holly took the jar with her free hand, the sour alcohol smell filling the air in front of her nose. How did Papa ever drink this stuff? She leaned in and took a large swig, the fiery liquid sliding down her throat and instantly warming her. Joe’s arm tightened under her grip and she could feel his concern without even looking at him.
“Hey, Holly,” Rhett said. There was cautiousness in his voice. “You look good.”
“Thanks,” she said, the hurt she felt coming through in that one word. And he read it perfectly; she could tell by the brief shift in his gaze to the floor.
The thing was, Holly wasn’t angry with him for leaving to follow his dream; she was angry that her best friend had just left and never looked back, not once. She could’ve texted him, but she didn’t. She was hoping that he would reach out to her and tell her he missed her. But that message never came.
Tammy handed both Rhett and Joe a jar of whiskey. Then she disappeared like a bolt of lightning, clearly feeling the buzz in the air between Holly and Rhett, and probably off to have a chat about it with innocent third parties.
“Whatcha been up to?” he asked as if he’d only been away from her a matter of days, not years.
She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to grab him and shake him. Papa had been like a grandfather to him. Nana needed an extra shoulder to cry on after Papa died. Holly remembered the first day without Papa: she turned on the television and found Rhett playing on some morning show, the anguish of losing Papa and not having Rhett to support her when she felt like falling to the ground every second washing over her like a fiery flood.
“Perhaps I should check on your grandmother,” Joe said, looking down at Holly for answers, clearly giving her an opportunity to speak to Rhett alone, but she squeezed his arm.
She didn’t know why, but she felt stronger holding on to Joe. Even still, it was difficult to mask the pain on her face when she looked at Rhett. But she wouldn’t give Rhett the satisfaction of seeing her weakness over it, so she stared angrily at him and tightened her grasp on Joe’s arm.
The barn was filling up with people, their chatter heavy in the air, but it was muted in Holly’s ears as she ruminated over the ache Rhett had left in her heart. And now, he was asking her what she was doing as if nothing were wrong. He had to know what he’d done. He’d been her best friend and he’d left without even so much as a glance over his shoulder.
Rhett and Papa had a unique connection with music, both of them immediately understanding each other. It was as if they had a silent language all their own, set to melody. But that wasn’t all they shared. Papa was the first person to take Rhett fishing when they were six years old, he taught Rhett how to drive a tractor, he held on to the seat of his bike when he taught Rhett to ride. He filled every moment he could with joy after Rhett’s father’s death in a car crash when Rhett was five.
Rhett left Holly and he left Nana, but the worst thing was that he let Papa down. Because, in the face of death, Papa had stepped up for Rhett, and when the tables were turned, Rhett failed to do the same. Rhett had only been gone a few months when Papa died. He’d been in Europe during Papa’s funeral.
“Rhett!” Tammy called from the loft, interrupting Holly’s thoughts and keeping her from replying. Tammy was holding Rhett’s guitar, grinning. “You gonna play tonight or what? Not often do we have a superstar here for Christmas!”
Rhett’s focus moved to Holly’s hand on Joe’s arm before awkwardly lifting his eyes to Holly. “Tammy’s calling,” he said as if she hadn’t heard. “So… I guess I’ll see ya later.” Rhett turned and walked toward the stage, his whiskey in his hand. He took a large drink before bounding up the steps to the stage.
She bit her lip to keep the anger inside. Then she, too, tipped up Otis’s whiskey and let the liquid blaze down her throat before the tears came.
“Want to talk about it?” Joe said gently into her ear.
Holly then noticed she was still holding his arm, and she let go. “There’s nothing to talk about,” she lied, knowing that, one, if she tried to explain it, she’d only succeed in dragging Joe into a night of drama, and two, she’d probably end up sobbing, which she’d rather not make him endure. When she met his eyes, he was studying her face with that inquisitive look he had a lot.
The small crowd had gathered around the loft as Rhett slipped his guitar strap over his head. With the whiskey now sitting next to an old wooden stool on stage, he reached into the pocket of his jacket—like he always did—to get his pick. With his left hand wrapped around the neck of the instrument, his fingers finding their way to the opening chord, he strummed the first note of his hit song “A Girl Like You.”
Holly swallowed another drink of her whiskey concoction to settle her nerves. She recognized the song right away.
“This one’s for Holly,” she heard through the speakers, a few heads turning her way.
Did Rhett really think that waltzing in after all this time and playing her a song would erase the frustration she felt by his absence?
There’s light in the dark tonight… Rhett’s familiar voice floated through the air, the lyrics soft as if he were whispering them, like he had when they sat together while he wrote them. I can’t tell wrong from right…
While Rhett continued, she turned away from the loft and headed over to Nana. When she reached the table, Joe pulled out a chair and offered it to Holly, sitting down beside her. Nana was holding a cup of coffee, her expression slightly lifted in response to Rhett’s singing only annoying Holly more. She wanted to ask Nana why she wasn’t angry with him, but it was the first time Nana had actually looked happy, so Holly stayed quiet.
“Jeany!” Buddy said from behind them just before two arms flopped onto Holly’s shoulders. “You ready for that dance?” He patted the tops
of Holly’s arms and walked around next to Nana.
“You haven’t even had a drink yet, Buddy, and you’re already pestering me,” Nana teased him. But, to Holly’s complete surprise, she was wriggling in her chair to stand up.
“Are you going to dance with Buddy?” Holly asked, her disbelief evident in her tone. She hadn’t meant it to sound like it had; she just hadn’t seen so much life in Nana since before Papa passed away.
Nana took her coffee from the table and stood by Buddy. “If he minds his manners, I might, but right now, I’m going to find a chair closer to the stage so I can hear Rhett sing. Holly, you ought to join me. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to hear our boy play.”
Our boy.
He certainly wasn’t Holly’s boy in any way. Not anymore. She ran her finger along the rim of her glass, focused on her breathing to help herself calm down. It wasn’t like Nana to be so star-struck that she’d forgotten what he’d done. Why wasn’t she as furious as Holly? As Nana and Buddy made their way toward a row of chairs by the Christmas tree, Holly shook her head, aware of the whooshing feeling from the alcohol. She’d better slow down.
“You two must have quite a history,” Joe said, his drink in front of him but untouched. Those eyes consumed her, his ability to decipher her emotions evident.
“Yes,” she finally relented. “His name is Rhett Burton. I’ve known him since we were kids.”
“Rhett Burton,” Joe said, searching the air as if there were information floating around him.
Just hearing someone else say his whole name made her head start to ache again. It was as if Joe had just put it in bright, flashing lights above her.
“Isn’t he on the radio?”
Holly nodded, concentrating on the kindness in Joe’s face to help her relax.
“That must be pretty cool, to know someone famous.”
Clearly, Joe was trying to lighten the mood, and Holly felt awful for not showing him a better time. She’d gotten derailed by Rhett, and only now was able to get herself together enough to realize she’d left poor Joe out of the loop.