If Rhett couldn’t give her those things…
If he couldn’t speak such words…
Deep down, she believed he felt them, but he refused to let her in. She didn’t want to date someone who locked his emotions behind walls.
She didn’t want to let him go. She wanted them to work this out and grow closer. But this might just be all he could offer and she would have to accept his limits. And, if she truly wanted an open and honest love, she would have to make the difficult choice to put herself first and walk away from any man who refused to open his heart—even if leaving him meant breaking hers.
Yes, he claimed to want her back, but she wasn’t sure how much that had to do with Addison and how much had to do with their relationship. And was it a relationship, or was it merely sex for him? She still wasn’t sure, and her lack of experience made her extra cautious.
It had been so much more than sex for her. The way he looked at her and took an interest in her thoughts and opinions, those weren’t sexual things. Intimate things, yes, but not sexual.
She took the same interest in him, but the deeper she dug the harder he worked to hide parts of his past. Didn’t he realize she only wanted to know him. She would never judge him unfairly or use his secrets to hurt him. She only wanted to take care of him.
It didn’t help that she had no one, aside from her grandmother at the moment, to speak to about everything she was feeling. Many of her friends were home for the holidays, but only for a short time. Everyone was busy with family and she wasn’t speaking to much of hers.
When the deliveries ended for the night, she returned to the restaurant. The dining room was closed so her aunts turned up the stereo. Frank Sinatra sang “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” as Skylar and her aunts layered lasagna and stuffed pasta shells with ricotta.
She watched her dad’s sisters work, wondering why they never got married. They were each beautiful and nurturing in their own crazy way.
Nonna brought out a plate of cannoli and the work stopped so they could sample the batch.
“Delicious, Ma,” Angela said.
“What is this, happy hour?” Her grandfather came out of the kitchen, catching them all gathered around the cannoli tray. “We have work to do!”
“Shush, Vinnie. Here. Eat a cannoli.” Nonna stuffed the cheese filled shell in his mouth and he laughed, pretending to smoke it like a cigar.
The music shifted to Frank’s, “I’ll Be Home for Christmas,” and her grandfather pulled Nonna into his arms, nuzzling her shoulder and twirling her into a spin. The aunts got back to work, but Skylar watched her grandparents dance.
The steam on the window was a perfect winter backdrop against the snow. The air smelled of tomato and basil and all her favorite things.
“Sky, you done with this tray?” Aunt Nicky asked.
Skylar couldn’t pull her stare away from the happy dancing couple. “Look at them. Have you ever seen a couple more in love?”
“You’re drunk. All they do is fight.”
Skylar smiled. “Maybe that’s how they say I love you.”
She wondered if it was hypocritical of her to think love could only be expressed in a four letter word. As she watched her grandparents dance and smile into each other’s eyes, so evidently in love, she wondered if she’d ever actually heard them say I love you to each other.
Perhaps people communicated love in many different languages. Was she too focused on her own love language to hear Rhett’s?
As Sinatra crooned out the last line if only in my dreams her grandfather dipped Nonna and kissed her cheek.
Skylar didn’t get back to the big house until well after midnight. She expected to find the house dark, but Gran and Pop were curled up on the couch watching It’s a Wonderful Life.
“Did you eat, Skylar?” Gran asked as soon as she took off her coat.
“Yes, at the restaurant.” For once, her grandfather wasn’t in his recliner, so Skylar sat in the old, battered chair.
Her grandparents leaned into each other on the sofa, Gran’s lap full of yarn and knitting needles while Pop held a big empty bowl that had been filled with some sort of snack.
“How often do you two say I love you?” Skylar asked, stealing their attention from Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed.
“Every day,” her grandmother declared. “But I have to wait about a decade to hear it back.”
Pop looked at her as if she were crazy. “I tell you every time I hang up the phone or leave the house, woman. Maybe if you ever stopped talking and actually listened to what other people around you said, you’d hear me more often.”