Between Rains, page 11
“No worries,” he assured her. “I didn’t give you a lot of notice. And, yes. I love crab salad.” Already, he felt lighter. Just being out…away from the house and the heaviness they all felt.
She closed the door behind him. “I set the table on the back deck. The weather’s lovely today, and I thought we’d take advantage of the sunshine.”
He nodded and followed her outside. But not before eyeing the inside of her home. It was a sensible place, uncluttered and nicely decorated. In the main living area, she had comfortable sofas facing each other. A square coffee table was planted in the center of a large rug. A bowl of shells was nestled on top of the table next to a couple of pillar candles and a small stack of books. He couldn’t make out the titles, but her reading habits looked to lean toward books about nature. Not entirely surprising. When they’d met for a quick bite the other night, he’d recognized there was something different about her. Knowing what she’d been through and that she’d survived—well, he admired her for that.
Built-in shelves flanked a fireplace made of river rock. Diane displayed framed photos of her daughter, of her mother, and many coastal shots that could have been taken by a professional. He pointed. “You take those?”
She glanced where he indicated and grinned. “I did. In rehab, they urge you to find a hobby to focus on when the struggle to drink rears its ugly head. I’m getting pretty good, even if I say so myself. I guess that means I struggle more than I like.” She granted him another one of those smiles, the ones that could warm even the coldest soul.
“You still struggle?” he asked, then immediately kicked himself for prying into her personal issues.
His asking didn’t seem to bother her. “I’ll always struggle,” she admitted. “Now, I have tools to cope. I no longer have to escape my feelings by tossing back a shot of vodka.” She looked at him with eyes that were as deep and blue as the ocean. “I do miss a good margarita once in a while. Yet I’ve never been more at peace. It’s a wonderful feeling really.”
Her unabashed confession of wrong paths taken, of healing from her former need to anesthetize emotions, pulled at him.
Until recently, he’d had it all together. Life was good. He had a great career, money, respect. While he had never married or had children, he was part of a family he steadfastly loved.
Events outside his control were now pulling that security rug out from underneath his feet. Frankly, while he wouldn’t admit it as freely as Diane, his foundation was shifting. Often, he worried he might tumble, and he didn’t know how to keep himself upright. Especially when his mind wandered to the possibilities and what was projected to be ahead for his dad. Dementia would rob Pop of everything. How was Rhett supposed to accept the fact the man he loved most on this earth would eventually lose his memory—may not even remember Rhett at some point.
The idea made him shudder. He swallowed, shook off the emotion. He was the rock in the family. He couldn’t crumble.
Diane invited him to sit while she returned inside for the food. In minutes, she reappeared with plates in hand. She set them on the placemats and then took her seat. “So, I was surprised to get your call,” she admitted. “But, happy.”
Warmth pooled in Rhett’s gut. He’d made the right decision in reaching out. He needed some of that peace she claimed to have. “Wow. This looks great.” He picked up his fork.
The image of his mom and dad embracing out on the lawn earlier suddenly popped inside his mind. His folks had been married nearly forty years. How were they supposed to deal with this?
Their deep love for one another was written in their eyes, woven into their souls—like they were always meant to be united and nothing could ever tear them apart.
Until this.
He held the fork mid-air, overcome with feelings he couldn’t even name. His face reddened as unbidden tears formed. He angrily blinked—once, twice, three times—trying to collect himself and gain control.
She noticed.
“Rhett, are you okay?” She dropped her own fork and reached across the table, took his hand in hers, and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
He wiped at his forehead, embarrassed. It took several long breaths before he could speak. When he could, he forced himself to look her in the eyes. “I’m—well, our family got some bad news this week.”
Her eyebrows drew together with concern. “Oh, Rhett. No.”
He nodded. “Yes, my dad. I think I mentioned the other night that he’s been having trouble with his memory. Has had for some time, actually.”
Rhett told Diane about the signs he’d noticed—how he’d opened the cupboard door to find a carton of milk. How his mother had gotten flustered and claimed to have done it herself. He drew a deep breath and told her about the visit to Portland and the horrible diagnosis. “I don’t understand why. It appears my family kept me in the dark and didn’t want me to know.”
She nodded with understanding. “Denial can be a huge motivator. Sometimes we find mentally blocking out bad things is far more attractive than admitting the truth and handling the consequences.” She slowly released his hand. “Knowing your mother, she also wanted to protect her children from the news.”
“Jared and Leila both knew. Well, I’m unsure how much my sister was aware, but Jared definitely was inside the loop. He’d even taken Pop to Astoria to see Dr. Cannon.”
“The fact they elected not to call and tell you leaves you feeling left out.” She made the statement without any judgment. Her ability to assess the situation, even when not flattering on his part, was comforting.
Rhett nodded. “We both know Dr. Cannon is a great family physician. He’s served as our family doctor. He’s the one who set my broken leg when I fell off my bike in the fifth grade. He’s a capable physician, but he’s no expert. Especially when it comes to neurological deficits in the brain. Pop should’ve seen specialists long ago. It wasn’t until I made arrangements that he was properly evaluated. I even had to fight my family to get him there.” Rhett knew he was spilling more than intended, but the release felt good. Telling Diane felt like an anchor being pulled from somewhere inside him, liberating him from the burden he’d been carrying. Even if only slightly.
“People do the best they can,” she offered. “As much as we like to think we can appoint motives to the things people do, especially those things that hurt us…well, only God really knows the heart. Your family loves you, Rhett. Despite failing to act how you wished they had, I am certain hiding your father’s illness wasn’t meant to cause you pain. Perhaps they simply didn’t want you to worry until they knew more.” She gave him a weak smile. “Regardless, you’ll need to forgive them. That’s the only way to release the hold their withholding the truth has on you.”
She tossed her head back and laughed. “Do you know how often I had to rehearse the twelve steps in order to make peace with my own mother?”
Rhett knew the wisdom of what she’d said. Of course, he had to forgive them. Forgetting would be a whole other story.
“I know that look,” she teased. “Been there, done that.” She held up four fingers. “And I have the husbands to prove it. You’ll wrestle with all this, but in the end, think carefully about what I’ve said. Holding onto grudges only causes you pain and drives deeper wedges between you and the ones you love.”
Rhett inhaled sharply, and his eyebrows lifted. “So, tell me, Diane. How did you get so wise?”
“By attending the School of Hard Knocks,” she pointed out. “And I haven’t yet graduated. Thinking of going for my masters.” She paused, gave him a meaningful look. “Don’t follow my lead, Rhett. Learn from my mistakes.”
She may be right, of course. His lips twitched with a wide smile as he joined her in laughing about life and its troubles. He only wished he could face adversity as well as her.
“I know what your family is facing is terribly difficult. I’m so very sorry. But, Rhett—you can’t control any of this. The only thing you can do is wake up every day and do the best you can. Be kind, and don’t expect anything more of yourself. Don’t expect to do everything perfectly. And don’t expect that of others. It’s just not how it works.”
He felt the burn at the back of his eyes again. “How do you do that?” he asked. “How do you make me feel better simply by—well, by being so understanding?”
“Listening is a powerful thing. Few people know how to put their own stuff aside and really focus on another person. It’s taken me a lot of practice to get better at the effort. And a lot of counseling.” She did it again, smiled at him in a way that made him tingle inside.
Diane cast her eyes heavenward. “You should have seen me a year ago. In ways, I don’t even feel like the same person. Back then, my need to control—well, everything—had created this vacuum where my soul had once lived.” She looked away, far out over the yard and the tall pines beyond. “I’m more like my real self now. I can see that. But I sure walked a bumpy road to get here.”
Rhett was quiet for a few moments, letting the sea air and the sun work on him.
Diane pushed her plate away and propped her elbow on the table. “You know…” She rested her chin on her upturned palm. “I’ve never really assessed my life like I just did. Thanks for that.”
“I came for selfish reasons,” he admitted. “I’m glad this talk wasn’t completely one-sided.”
When they’d finished eating, Rhett helped her bring the dishes inside. “Thanks again. That crab was delicious. Better than most restaurants.” He moved for the dishwasher.
“Don’t you dare!” she warned. “I don’t let my lunch guests do the dishes.”
“Is that so?” he said, noticing how well she’d aged. Or, not aged. She looked nearly the same as she had in high school, back when he’d gazed at her from his locker. She still wore her blonde hair long and loose around her shoulders, though today she’d tied it back. Her eyes still seemed to twinkle when she smiled. And her mouth—well, she had nice lips. That’s all he’d best say about that.
She followed him out when it was time for him to go. At his car, he turned so they faced each other “I know I said it, but I do appreciate everything. The lunch, and especially the talk. I needed it.” Before she could respond, he decided to add, “It was a good date.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You thought this was a date?”
He grinned, surprised at the sudden turn in this conversation at his instigation. “Not at first.”
She placed her hands on her hips, smiled back at him. “Well, news flash. I’ve given up dating.”
“Gonna grow old all alone, eh?” he teased, hardly able to keep from laughing. He offered a short, good-natured perusal of her from head to toe. “I don’t see that for your future, Diane.”
She smirked, seeming to enjoy the banter. “See it or not, that’s the plan. Now, I admit I might change my mind in twenty years or so. But for now, I’m single and happy. The husband parade is officially disbanded. No dating. No men,” she added for emphasis.
“Probably a smart decision.” He leaned close enough to smell the light fragrance in her hair and whispered against her ear, “Kind of a waste, though.” Then, without even planning to, he dropped a light kiss on the flesh of her earlobe.
A tiny smile lifted the corner of her lips. “I am open to being friends, though.”
He took a full step back and reached out a hand for her to shake.
She laughed, rolled her eyes, and shook his hand.
Rhett couldn’t seem to wipe the goofy grin from his face as he said, “Friends, it is. For now.”
15
Upon returning home, Rhett walked in the door and headed for the kitchen. There were no signs of life, so Rhett made his way to the store. Before he even got up the steps, he spied his mother behind the counter, ringing up an order for some customers—what looked to be a man, his wife, and their two small children.
His mom came from around the counter, bent and offered the two kiddos a treat out of her bowl of chocolate-covered blackberries. She often said she sold as many packages of the sweet candy as she did the packages of smoked oysters.
Rhett turned the knob and pulled the door open. A tiny bell tinkled above the door. “Hey,” he said.
The guy was dressed in pressed khaki shorts and a button-down shirt rolled up at the elbows. A tourist down from Seattle, Rhett guessed. The man grinned at him and held up a package of purchased oysters. “Listen, man. You’ve got to try these. Seriously delicious. Just a hint of smoke, briny, and clean tasting.”
Yup, definitely from Seattle.
Rhett nodded. “Yes, I agree. Some of the best I’ve ever eaten.” He and his mother exchanged a meaningful glance.
“Well, c’mon, kids. We don’t want to waste this beautiful day.” He glanced over at Rhett. “We’re heading to the Whale Museum. I heard it’s very educational.”
Rhett nodded. “Yeah, it’s a great place to take children.”
“Oh, yes,” his mother said. “Ellen Jeffers is the proprietor and is so knowledgeable. She’s a friend. Just tell her you’ve just been over here at the oyster farm, and she’ll give you special treatment.” She winked.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “We will.”
When they’d gone, Rhett joined his mom behind the counter. He leaned and kissed her cheek. “How are you, Mom?”
She sighed. “I’ve been better. I got on the internet last night. Boy howdy, wrong move. The information out there will scare you to pieces.” She shook her head. “I think we’re going to just have to follow Dr. Michaels’s instructions and take this thing a day at a time.”
Rhett hugged his mother’s shoulders. “I think that’s wise. Remember what we were told. Nobody wakes up the day after diagnosis and is at end stage. Pop’s disease will be a progression of symptoms. He’s strong and determined. We have every hope he will move through the stages slowly.”
Rhett paused, briefly considering the timing of his announcement. He decided he might as well go ahead. “I resigned my position in Chicago.”
Her face immediately wore her sadness. “Oh, Rhett. No.” She vehemently shook her head. “You can’t do that. You mustn’t place your life—the career you worked so hard for—on hold.”
He held up a hand to stop her.
Instead of complying, she grasped his hand with surprising force. “That’s exactly what we feared, why we didn’t tell you.”
He pulled back. “That’s why?”
His mother brushed some chocolate crumbs from the top of the glass display case and moved the bowl of candy back in place. “Yes. It was not hard to figure you’d upend everything and try to take over.”
Seeing the hurt on his face, she immediately added, “Oh, that’s not what I meant.” She waved off her comment. “I only meant that your sense of keen sense of responsibility would take front and center. This is not your burden to carry, son.”
“What? You think you can shoulder all this alone?” he countered.
“We have Jared here,” she argued. “And your sister.”
The door opened, and his brother strode in. “What about me?”
Their mother let out a patient sigh. “I was just telling your brother that you would help with everything here. That Rhett didn’t need to leave his job and move home.”
“What?” Jared turned his gaze to Rhett, his expression dark. “You’re moving home?”
“Well, yeah,” Rhett admitted. “I mean, what with everything—”
“That’s stupid! I know you think no one but you can make good decisions. How could your brother, the muck-up, possibly handle what has to be done?”
Rhett offered a noncommittal one-shouldered shrug. “I didn’t say that.”
Jared took a step toward him, his hands fisting at his sides. “Really? Because it seems to me you’ve been saying that since you got here, if not in words, certainly in actions.”
Rhett worked the muscle in his jaw.
Jared angrily ran his hand through the top of his hair. “After all, how can the guy who never lived up to your expectations handle Pop’s medical situation or keep this family going when His Highness, the Smart One isn’t around to make sure we’re all dancing to the right tune?”
Before Rhett could defend himself further, Jared spun around and grabbed the doorknob.
Their mother split her glances between her two warring sons. “Jared, wait. Where are you going? Let’s talk this through,” she pleaded.
His younger brother turned, paused. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m fine. Really.”
“But where are you going?” she repeated.
“I’m going to a meeting. A very much-needed meeting.” And with that, Jared headed out the door, letting it slam behind him.
Rhett’s mother turned on him. “Son, you have to back off of him. He’s trying, and the added pressure you’re placing on him is not good for his sobriety. He needs our support—all of our support, including yours.”
Rhett pointed after him. “The guy who needs all the support is somehow equipped to run the business? Come on, Mom. Think.”
Her mouth pursed tightly as her chin lifted. “You haven’t been here. Jared’s right. You are not uniquely qualified to decide what’s best for the family or the business. He’s been working alongside your father for some time. In your absence, he’s shown himself more than capable.” Each word was slow, meticulous, and hit its target—his heart—with deft accuracy. “Rhett Daniel, you know I love you with all my heart. But it’s past time you lay this ill-placed judgment of your brother aside.”
Her remarks smarted. Rhett hadn’t been scolded like that since—well, since he’d stayed out all night with Ben and Cam the night they graduated and had failed to call her to let her know he was okay.
Rhett ran his hand through his hair. He was trying to do the right thing here. Did either of them have any idea what this decision had cost him? Regardless of what they thought, even if Jared was now on the straight and narrow, he was not capable of running this entire operation without help. Who else was going to step in and provide the needed leadership, the financial direction? Who had the ability to step in for Pop and develop a business strategy that would help weather the storm?
