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nineteen
Rhett had to admit, he was impressed by the Christmas Eve banquet. The dining room had its own tree, decorated in the annual Christmas ornaments sold by the White House Historical Association, and poinsettias on every table. A professional harp player sat in the corner, playing angelic Christmas music. The dinner fare included standing rib roast, Yorkshire puddings, salad, potatoes and dark chocolate cakes shaped like old-fashioned Christmas puddings. People were lined up out the door to fill their plates.
Rhett took a drink of his beer, which he’d gotten from the bar, and searched the crowded room for Stanzi. He hoped to catch a glimpse of her strawberry hair, pulled back with cat barrettes, and her curvy body, growing stronger every time he saw her, dressed in either scrubs or a unicorn T-shirt. But all he saw were other people, many of whom looked like they came from money. Even their ugly sweaters managed to look designer.
Instead of getting annoyed, or breaking a sweat, Rhett took the crowd in stride. He had to admit, he hadn’t felt this way in a long time. It was hard to pinpoint what was different, but the closest he could come was to say that he felt level. Not too high, not too low. Hungry, relaxed and alert, without being edgy. His body was in less pain than it had been in years, an overall tightness to everything that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying around, now diminished.
He almost felt content. Just to be; even if all he was doing was standing there in a roomful of strangers, during a time of year that had lost most of its meaning for him. It was kind of weird, feeling this way, but Rhett wasn’t going to complain. With the line long and Stanzi nowhere in sight, he headed for the foyer to get some air. He had his head down, admiring the shine to the old wooden floor. When he looked up again, his strides halted.
She stood by herself, just inside the entrance, scanning the crowd.
Whoa.Rhett wasn’t sure if he thought it or spoke aloud, until a guy next to him said, “No kidding.” He stared at Stanzi, who wore a knee-length blue dress with fluttery little sleeves that showed off her arms. A modest pair of heels made her calves pop and the scoop neck revealed creamy, smooth skin. Her hair had been styled with a few big waves and it looked, as Rhett drew near, like her full lips were dotted with something tinted and shiny.
“Hi,” she said, sounding out of breath. She scanned him up and down and smiled at his jeans and button-down shirt. “I’ve never seen you in anything but T-shirts and shorts.”
“Yeah.” Rhett tried to find his voice. The awkward girl in the My Pretty Pony shirt was nowhere to be seen. Dressed up like this, in clothes that actually fit, Rhett felt she was giving him a peek at her personality outside of the gym. The pretty blue Christmas dress was like the shiny wrapping on a present that you knew held something amazing inside.
“What’s wrong with you?” Stanzi narrowed her eyes and waved a hand in front of his face.
Rhett shook his head and laughed. She sounded genuinely concerned. “Nothing. I’m just hungry. Starving actually.” He realized he was still staring at her, so he quickly cleared his throat. “For the...the food. C’mon. Your sister went all out.” He nodded toward the buffet.
Stanzi followed him toward the food line, which had dwindled.
Rhett guided her in front of him, and they took their time loading their plates, taking a little of everything. The place was packed with people chowing down, but they managed to find a table near the window that seated only two. “Your sister knows what she’s doing,” Rhett said, an unusual nervousness in his gut that he kept covered by talking about the food. But his statement was the truth: the meat was rare, the puddings crisp and flavorful, the salad not overdressed, the potatoes creamy.
“Sunny doesn’t cook.” Stanzi laughed. “Unless you ask her to mix dog food.” She ate a bite of meat and potatoes. “Great businesswoman, though. I’ll give her that. And, of course, amazing with the dogs.”
“The two of you are alike. But different.”
Stanzi’s chewing slowed, as if she were considering that. “Yeah. Sunny’s a lot like my mom was. Bright and perky and comes right at you. I’m more like my dad.”
“Which is how?”
“Well.” Stanzi’s fork stopped, poised in front of her lips. “My father lost most of his hearing in Vietnam. He came home legally deaf. According to Mom, he could’ve used hearing aids but he learned sign language instead. Nobody else was really willing to learn, so Daddy didn’t talk much, because when he did, everyone had to practically shout. Mom said I learned sign language from Daddy and was proficient at it before I was proficient at speaking—because I adored my father and would do anything for his attention. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I realized that Daddy used his hearing loss to tune out the world. He liked it that way. He didn’t miss anything, but he didn’t have to hear all the noise, either. But—” she got a sly smile on her face “—he had to talk to me more than anyone, because I knew sign language.”
“So what you’re saying is—” Rhett thought it through “—you learned early on how to communicate without words. To absorb everything going on around you, without much noise.”
Stanzi smiled. “To be honest, I don’t know what I was trying to say...until you just said it. I guess I learned early on that we can learn most of what we need to know from other people in silence. More than eighty percent of communication is nonverbal. I mean, the reason I learned to cook was the only surefire way I had to my father’s heart was with food. He never raved over anything I made, mind you, but I knew he loved and appreciated it. He’d never take a damn thing from me, but he couldn’t refuse my food. Dinner, lunch, dessert—he’d eat it all. I couldn’t make him praise me, go easy on me or even talk to me, but I could make him eat, dammit.”
Rhett polished off the crumbs on his plate. “This is good food, but yours is even better.” At the sly look on her face, he insisted, “I mean it. I’m not blowing smoke up your ass.”
“Like you’ve ever done that.” Stanzi rolled her eyes.
“Speaking of. You didn’t show up for the workout this morning.”
“I know. I’ve been here all day. I’ve done nine massages, though, so I think that counts.”
“Eight and a half.” Rhett arched an eyebrow at her.
Stanzi laughed and threw her napkin at him. “I’ll get the rest of you later, I promise.”
“Nine seems like a lot for one day.” Rhett looked around at the crowd. “How do you fit them all in? All the donors get a massage, right?”
“Oh, hell, no.” Stanzi shook her head. “Just the people who book a cabin. That’s eight.” She tilted her head toward him. “You make nine. The rest of these people donated to the rescue just to come to the party.”
“That’s a lot of donations.”
“I know. I told you, Sunny’s got a knack for this stuff. C’mon, let’s get more food.” She rose with her empty plate, and Rhett was happy to follow. They even helped themselves to the puddings this time, which turned out to be rich, decadent chocolate that needed the shot of whipped cream on the side.
