by Jenny Hale
“You didn’t come to see Papa,” she said in a whisper, the tears sliding down her cheeks, the pain finally surfacing through her voice. She took in a jagged breath.
Rhett looked down at his boots, his face revealing his shame.
“Why?” she asked, her anger gone in this moment and replaced with incomprehension.
“Is everything all right?” Joe said, coming up to her, those kind eyes causing the pain in her chest to subside briefly.
Rhett took a step back, assessing Joe. There was something clearly there every time Rhett encountered him, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. “Everything’s fine,” he said, and the intensity she’d seen in his eyes had gone, Rhett becoming distant. “Holly, I just wanted to tell you that I was sorry. That’s all I can say.”
“Thank you for the apology. It doesn’t change anything, because when we needed you, you weren’t there.”
“I know,” he said. He ran his hands through his hair, and exhaled as if the years of absence had finally escaped on his breath. He shook his head, bewildered. “I should play some more music,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “Mama’s coming, by the way. She’d like to see you, I’m sure.” His eyes went over to Joe again. “Have a good night.”
When Rhett left, Holly rubbed her neck and stared at the barn stage, collecting herself, her stomach churning more than it had been. “What an awful start to the party,” she said to Joe with a sniffle. “I’m so sorry to have had all this drama.”
“It’s fine.” Joe looked as though he felt for her and it only made the guilt over causing such a scene worse. She should’ve been better at keeping her emotions in check.
“I’m still hungry. I never got my… potatoes,” she said. “Let’s get some food and then go meet Otis.”
That made Joe chuckle, which helped.
Joe took her over to the table to grab a bite and then they went in search of Otis. When they approached him, Otis Rigby stretched out those gangly arms that could easily embrace four grown adults. “How’s my girl?” he said, pulling Holly close, his unique scent of wood fires and whiskey taking her back to the days she spent with him and Papa. He pulled back and looked fondly at her. His hair had evolved from the silver she remembered to a bright white, and there were a few new sunspots on his hands, but his friendly smile was exactly the same. “How ya been?”
“Good!” she said, not wanting to elaborate in that moment. She’d had a plate of food, which had settled her stomach, but that was the only problem she’d solved. If she started to tell Otis the real answer about Nana and Rhett, or her insecurities about pulling off the planning of Joe’s wedding, he’d only try to fix things, and there was no fixing any of her issues.
“I’m sorry your family couldn’t come this Christmas,” Holly told Otis as Rhett began to play another familiar song. She recognized it. He’d written this one at a bar in Nashville, he’d told her once. Rhett had always been enamored with Music City, and he spent a lot of his time bouncing around to hidden gems, as he called them—bars and restaurants, tucked away from the tourists.
The lyrics sailed into her ears, wrapping around her like a familiar blanket after a long walk in the cold. She tried to block it out.
“Just gives me an excuse to have two parties.” Otis winked at her. “Now I’ll have to have another one for my family when the snow melts.”
Holly had missed Otis. His easy-going personality and contagious happiness always made her very comfortable. He would get Papa laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes. How Holly missed that laughter. She inwardly scolded herself for not visiting more often and decided that, no matter what, she’d make an effort to come say hi every couple of months at least.
“And you must be the infamous Mr. Barnes,” Otis said, holding out a hand to Joe.
“Oh!” Holly said. “I’m so sorry. Where are my manners?” Her past was getting the better of her tonight. “Otis, this is Joe.” But after she said that, it registered that he’d already known Joe’s name.
“Tammy’s been all over the floor tonight, telling people about you.”
Joe shook Otis’s hand. “She has?”
“Yep.” He dragged two chairs over and patted the seats before finding one for himself. Otis sat down, his long legs stretching out across the open space in front of him. “She said Holly found herself a keeper.”
Both Holly and Joe fell into a fit of denial, shaking their heads and laughing awkwardly, before Otis quieted them with a loud guffaw, slapping his leg. “Don’t worry, I asked your nana. She told me what’s going on.” There was something in that statement that made Holly want to ask Nana what she’d actually said. Otis sat back and folded his arms across his narrow chest, but his enjoyment of the moment was still clear as he looked back and forth between Holly and Joe. “Well, even though the two of you are only working partners, you seem to be on good terms, so you should have no problem joining Jean on the dance floor in a few minutes and saving her from Buddy.” He nodded toward the front of the barn where Nana and Buddy were doing the two-step under the Christmas lights.
Holly clapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t witnessed this much life in Nana in ages, and the excitement filled her like a runaway helium balloon. Seeing her now, Holly knew the choice to come to Leiper’s Fork had been the right one. Maybe, just maybe, Nana would have a wonderful Christmas after all.
“Why don’t you get out there and dance, Otis?” Holly asked. “I’ll bet those boots have dust on them from all the sitting still. I haven’t seen them move tonight the way they did as I remember.” Holly thought about how he’d chase her and Rhett around the yard with a water hose when they were little, singing and dancing as if the sprayer were a microphone, soaking them, Holly erupting into giggles and squeals.
“Is that a dare, Miss McAdams?” He stood up and held out his hand. “Because if I remember correctly, your papa taught you some fancy footwork. Why don’t we show Joe what to do?”
When she looked over at Joe, he seemed enthralled and charmed at the same time, those eyes sparkling in the candlelight surrounding them. He shifted in his chair with one arm resting on the back of it like he did, his interest clear. She only had that split second to notice him before Otis had pulled her onto the dance floor, spinning her around, those little southern shuffling steps coming to her effortlessly, the way Papa had shown her, the pain in her ankle barely there in all the excitement.
“How’d we get so lucky, Otis?” Buddy called out as they moved closer to him and Nana. “We got the most gorgeous girls in the whole place!”
Nana threw her gaze to the ceiling in mock annoyance just before Buddy spun her around. Watching Nana dance with Buddy was different than the way she moved with Papa. There was a defined space between them, like Holly had with Otis. Whenever she danced with Papa, Nana’s features had been relaxed, her smile carefree, her laughter rising into the air like bubbles in champagne. Papa’s hands would travel along Nana’s with ease, and they moved together as if they were one person.
“So, you planning a wedding for Mr. Fancy over there?” Otis said as he leaned toward her to keep his voice from carrying over the music. His six-foot frame meant he had to tilt way down to reach Holly’s ear.
“Yes,” she said, taking in Joe. He waved, and she had to fight the urge to want him on the dance floor with them.
He was so different to anyone there. With his perfect-fitting jeans, his expensive hiking boots, and a sweater that would probably cost her a couple of nights in wages, he seemed a little bit formal, like he’d never learned how to really kick back and relax. But there was an element to him that made her feel completely at home. The way he said her name softly, his face as he looked down at her, that laughter of his—it was as if she’d known him forever. She could only imagine what it would be like if she knew him better. They could be great… friends.
“This one’s called ‘The Two of Us’,” Rhett said into the microphone, his voice booming from the speakers in each corner
of the barn. “Remember this one, Holly?”
She looked at him and then away. Of course she did. She remembered them all. Every single song had a story. This song was about best friends; they’d written it together. Well, he’d written it and she’d told him all the lines that he should change. Holly acknowledged him with a quick look, but she wasn’t in the mood for his public attempts to smooth things over.
Rhett was always making a mess of things. He was impulsive and fickle, letting his emotions drive him. Even that final night together when he’d tried to kiss her. It had come out of the blue. He hadn’t done anything to let Holly know it was coming, and she pulled away, needing time to figure out how she felt about it, but then he left. And she hadn’t heard from him since. It was typical of Rhett. She’d seen him do the same thing to other girls, but she thought their friendship had meant more to him than that.
After a couple more songs, Otis beckoned Joe onto the floor. Holly wanted to tell Otis that it was fine if he didn’t feel like dancing anymore. She’d be okay sitting down for a while, although it was nice to be out there with Nana. When Nana closed her eyes tonight, Holly wanted to be in her memory.
Joe complied, stepping onto the makeshift dance floor. Rhett had started playing their song. She hadn’t heard him play it live in quite a while. He’d changed it from the upbeat tempo, the way they’d originally written it, to a ballad that hung in the top ten last month and peaked at number one a few weeks ago. Holly heard about the celebrations among their friends, and the recording studio on Music Row had put a giant banner with Rhett’s face on it outside their doors. Holly had driven the long way to work to avoid having to look at it.
“Could you take my place, young man? My back’s starting to ache and I wouldn’t want to leave Miss Holly to dance all alone. What kind of gentleman would do that?”
“Of course,” Joe said, cautiously placing his hand in Holly’s.
Joe’s grasp was still and steady, and she tried not to think about how secure it made her feel. She liked his touch, but she knew his hand wasn’t hers to hold. She was just borrowing him for a dance or two so she could stay out there with Nana and enjoy herself.
“I won’t have to line dance, will I?” he said into her ear so she could hear over the sound, giving her goose bumps down her arm.
Holly laughed. “No. I think you’re safe.”
Joe’s other hand found her lower back and he gently pulled her toward his body. She put her hand on his shoulder, trying to keep her distance and fighting that ever-present movie reel of the first night on the sofa. Why did it keep replaying in her mind? She was starting to feel the twinge of panic, and she needed something to break the cycle of thought. Wedding. Focus on the wedding. She was working. Getting to know the customer.
“I was thinking,” she said, trying to keep things professional, given the circumstances. She’d let her guard down tonight and it was time to return to reality. No more of Otis’s iced tea, no more long talks out under the trees. “I should probably call Katharine and go over the wedding choices I’ve made so far.”
Joe blinked as if her sudden line of discussion surprised him, but then it was an odd conversation to have on the dance floor. Their entire situation was odd, though. “Absolutely. I’m sure Katharine would love a check-in.”
She felt his shoulder rise under her hand. It was subtle, but it was there—that slight stress or… something. What was it?
“I’d also like to get your input on the floor runner for the ceremony.”
His chest moved against her with his breath as he nodded.
“And do you have a list of RSVPs? I’ll need to check that against the invite list so we can possibly send a gentle reminder to the late responders. We need a final head count to update the order for the appropriate cake size and plan for reception tables by the twenty-third. That’s in two days.”
He’d stopped responding, his eyes on her, and she didn’t know how to read it. Their bodies were still moving to the music, but his expression was disconnected. Afraid he could feel her heart beating against his chest, she continued rattling off her list.
“We’ll need to check with the caterers to see if there’s any final tasting that needs to happen prior—have you done that?”
“Holly,” he finally said in that quiet way of his, when he wanted her attention. But then he fell silent. They’d stopped dancing and she waited, her pulse in her ears, to hear what he was about to say. Finally, he spoke. “We don’t have to do it all tonight, do we? We have time. Let’s just enjoy ourselves. Then tomorrow, you and I can make a list of what needs to be done.”
Holly chewed on her lip as Rhett’s music played around them. Life certainly could get difficult.
Sixteen
“Rhett!” Tammy called out through her cupped hands while Rhett adjusted something on his guitar. “Take a break! Come here!” She poured everyone at the old wooden table another glass of wine that she’d brought over from the back room at Puckett’s. Several empty bottles were scattered along the table. The stone fireplace outside the barn, where Otis always cooked his steaks and ribs, was roaring, the wood smell filling the air. Mingled with snow and the alcohol of the wine, it felt uniquely like Leiper’s Fork at Christmastime.
Nana’s cheeks were rosy and the corners of her mouth were set in an upward position, making Holly happy. Buddy was beside Nana, his weathered hands wrapped around a mason jar of Otis’s iced tea. The rest of them had had more than a few glasses of wine, and Holly was feeling pretty relaxed, her businesslike façade having faded away with the hours.
“What is this wine?” Joe asked, those shoulders now loose and relaxed, his fingers grazing the label as he squinted toward the lettering.
“Muscadine,” Holly told him.
“It doesn’t taste like any wine I’ve ever had. It’s… overwhelming my palate.” He looked into his glass and swirled it around, the skin between his eyes wrinkling endearingly.
Holly turned back toward the bottle to avoid the rise of amusement she got from his evaluation of the wine. When she’d collected herself, she explained. “It doesn’t have the greatest reputation, but I think it gets a bad rap,” she said, laughter escaping. “It’s a southern wine.”
He lifted the glass to his lips and took another sip, clearly trying to process the distinctive flavors that only muscadine grapes offered, noticing her once he set it back down. She liked the way he smiled when he had a little alcohol in him—it was slow but deliberate, his eyes looking sleepier, his breathing steady and unhurried. She’d had enough wine herself to feel a little buzz, but, if she were honest, Joe could do the same thing to her without the alcohol. How cruel this world was to put someone so wonderful in her path that was so far out of reach that they shouldn’t even be sitting at the same table, given her thoughts. Her instinct was to get up and flee from the situation, but she couldn’t bring herself to move a muscle. She allowed the memory of his arms around her to filter into her mind, knowing she’d scold herself once the wine had worn off.
“Y’all just gonna stare at each other all night, or are you going to answer my question?” Rhett said, pulling Holly’s attention away from Joe. His comment had been harsh, making her feel a flush of guilt, but when she met Rhett’s eyes, he was grinning.
“What was your question?” she asked.
The entire table was looking at her and she’d only just now noticed. Nana’s smile had contorted to a look of warning, and Holly’s cheeks burned with remorse about her thoughts. Holly knew better, and she deserved better than to fantasize about someone else’s man.
“I was wondering if we should do game night, like we used to.”
“Uh,” she fumbled for coherency. “Sure.”
“How about two truths and a lie?” Rhett said.
“Okay, I’ll start,” Holly said, taking another sip of her wine while attempting to sharpen her concentration. She was actually glad Rhett had chosen to do this game because it was a great way for her to take her mind o
ff the things that had been occupying it tonight. “I love cats. I’m shorter than my sister. My favorite food is a cheeseburger.” Her poker face was second to none.
“May I guess?” Joe said, sitting forward to participate. The others at the table urged him on. “So I pick which one I think is a lie?”
“Yes,” she said.
Joe squinted at her, studying her face as if it could give away the answer, but she was amazing at this game. “I see you as a dog-lover.”
He leaned back in his chair clearly happy with himself. He had every right to be, because he was correct. She’d never said a thing to him about pets, but he guessed quite easily that she loved dogs.
“How did you do that?”
He offered a crooked smile, the wine obviously affecting him.
“You got lucky,” she said, teasing him. “Your turn. I’ll bet I can guess your lie.”
He chuckled. “Okay…” He grabbed the bottle of wine and refilled his glass. “I’m an only child. My favorite food is… pizza. I collect art.”
“You made it easy,” she said, laughing at him. “I could tell by your hesitation. You’re terrible at this game!” Seeing the enjoyment on his face warmed her, and she liked it when he let her joke around with him. “You don’t love pizza? Who doesn’t love pizza?”
