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Rhett drops to his knees by the blanket he’s set on the sand. He works quickly making the last of his preparations. I take the last five steps at a slower rate, concerned that I might have landed on a date without knowing it. No, dating Rhett wouldn’t be what I considered a bad choice, but at the same time, the timing isn’t idea. But I don’t see any champagne or wine, instead a red punch in a plastic pitcher. There are no candles, only a battery-operated lantern he hasn’t switched on yet. No music plays, live or recorded, just us and the ocean. Though dinner smells amazing, it doesn’t look romantic.
Rhett extends one of the plates toward me. “It’s just a sandwich and some salad.”
I take his offering and a seat on the edge of the blanket. “You didn’t have to do all this. I could have eaten at the bunkhouse table. I’m getting good at leftovers.”
He nods, thoughtful for a second, maybe even regretting what he’s done, but he shrugs. “I know, but I figured Cookie was right. Maybe it’s time you know about my past. Maybe that will help you want to share yours.”
I start to voice my objections, but Rhett is quick to cut it off. “I’m not saying you spill everything tonight, Sunny. I guess, I figure Carl had his chance to explain things, maybe I want a shot too.”
“Everyone deserves a chance.” I think I’ve come to believe that more than most at this point. “But can we eat first?”
Rhett grins again, a sight I enjoy more each time I see it. “Of course.” He takes a hearty bite of his sandwich, showing he’s just as hungry as I am. “You gonna take off that bandana or do I have to imagine your new hair?”
“And how would you imagine it looks right now?”
He doesn’t look up, still one hundred percent focused on his food. “It won’t matter. You’ll look good no matter what.”
If I weren’t listening, I might have missed that. He calls me beautiful without any effort at all.
I take my first bite, not expecting much. After all, my stepbrother Tucker knows how to cook, but it doesn’t mean that anyone likes eating it. But this is different. At first blush, I expected a chicken sandwich. But the chicken has been cooked to perfection, still juicy but flavorful. Havarti cheese and tomato blend perfectly with the ciabatta roll.
“Am I tasting balsamic vinaigrette and fresh basil?”
Rhett, almost bashful, keeps his eyes on his food. “Good palate.”
“Good dinner,” I correct him. “This tastes amazing.”
“Thanks.” His cheeks blush a bit, though he seems to do his best to hide it. “It’s one of my favorites.”
We get lost in the food for a while. It’s nice to find someone who likes to eat the same way I do, enjoying every bite. I don’t feel the need to talk, happy to let the notes of his good cooking dance through me instead of dealing with words.
“I was ten,” Rhett says as I take my last bite. “My parents died in a car accident. I didn’t have grandparents left, and my mom’s family wasn’t interested in taking on another kid. I went into foster care.”
I can’t help thinking about Carl on the other side of the story, fighting for his life every day while Rhett’s world fell apart. They’ve both been through so much, but instead of finding solace in their similarities, they react like magnets with the same poles, always repelling.
“I was placed a few times with some good families. I didn’t mean to run away, not every time, but sometimes I have to get out. I have to move.”
“Like today?”
“Yeah.” His gaze shifts to the ocean. “I’d leave the foster home, but I was never in a neighborhood I recognized. Before I knew it, I was miles away and lost, but I had no desire to go back either. The first time I spent two days on the street. The next time, a week. Then it started to become easier to be gone.” Rhett shifts in his seat, stretching his legs out toward the water along the sand. “A man named Santiago, we called him Santi, found me one day. I’d been out there for almost two weeks. I was starving and freezing. He brought me back to his shelter. There were other runaways hanging around there. He fed me and gave me a place to keep warm.”
It’s the same story Carl told me, but with the emotion added for depth. I have to wonder if Carl has ever heard this story from Rhett himself. If he knew what Rhett had gone through, would the negative feelings still remain?
“Santiago has a brother named Diego, but you know him better as ‘Cookie’.” Rhett sends a smile my way, as though just the mention of Cookie makes him happy. “They were talking one night, and Santi mentioned this new kid he had hanging around the shelter. I was a lot younger than the other kids, and I’m sure Santi was worried about me running at such a young age. Diego said he might know some people looking to adopt.” Rhett gives a half-shrug. “Mom and Dad got in touch with the right agencies and pushed things through pretty fast. I stayed with Santi until they came to get me.”
I watch him for a moment as the sun fades into the water. “I got here, and I didn’t know anybody. I’d never seen a horse or a cow in real life. They gave me a room of my own and told me Carl would be my brother, but he wouldn’t live long.” Rhett’s features tighten. “That’s when I knew that they’d adopted me to replace him when he died.”
Stillness coats us as the sunset deepens in color. He carries the weight of that realization even years later. It’s too much, too heavy for anyone to bear.
“It was never my intention to do that.” He shoots me a pleading look like maybe I don’t believe it. Of course, I believe him, he was only a child. “But I did my best to make them like me. I learned to ride and rope and do everything Buddy asked me to do.” He shakes his head. “Dad, I mean, everything Dad asked me to do. And whether he believes it or not, I was glad Carl got his surgery. I was glad he didn’t die.”
“He doesn’t think—” I can’t say it. “Do you two ever talk about this?”
Rhett sets his hands behind him, burying them in the sand. “We don’t really talk about anything. It always ends in arguing.” He twists to face me. “Was that story even close to whatever he told you today?”
I take a little time to think about it. “Yeah, pretty close, but obviously from his side of things.”
His focus shifts to the darkening sky, like he’s anticipating stars at any second. “I’m surprised he didn’t turn you against me.”
