A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,50
they noticed were the sound of whistling wind and the cold temperature.
When Rhys tried to creep toward the stairs, Emerson held him back. “We need to wait for emergency services. I don’t want you to electrocute yourself.”
Thankfully, Rhys agreed and stayed put, likely because of the gravity of his tone. It was only another minute or two before the fire department pulled up, and then they were herded to the sidewalk while they assessed the damage. Apparently, the branch had broken through the bathroom ceiling and water had saturated the second floor.
It was a long night. The neighbors wandered outside to watch the crew sawing through the limb to remove it, then place a tarp over the roof. Rhys called his mom and collected the insurance information from her. The electric company showed up well after Emerson had put his siblings to bed—Sam needing extra reassurance that Rhys would be safe and staying with them—but it would be another day until the electricity would be restored to the block.
“You okay?” Emerson asked Rhys after he retrieved two beers from the fridge and they sat down on the porch, well after midnight.
“Yeah. Mom’s gonna fly out for a couple of days.”
Emerson took a sip of his beer. “Well, she’d hoped to get here for your birthday.”
“Glass half full?” Rhys asked with a smirk.
“Thought I’d give it a try,” he replied with a shrug. He motioned toward Rhys’s dark house. “Was she bummed?”
“Said it could’ve been worse; might’ve been the whole damned tree.” He sighed. “She has a point.”
“Now who’s trying for half full?”
Rhys reached over and clinked Emerson’s bottle. It was the first smile Emerson had gotten out of him all night.
“She also mentioned that I promised to get the tree pruned last spring.” He winced. “Is that true?”
He hadn’t asked about specific memories too often, and normally it was about significant things like holidays or other events.
“I dunno. Maybe you mentioned it in passing. These old trees are temperamental.” Emerson glanced toward the maple looming behind Rhys’s house. “And hey, you needed a new roof anyway.”
When Rhys rolled his eyes and grinned, it made his stomach flip over. “A bathroom remodel too?”
Emerson’s mouth pulled up at the corners. “There you go.”
Rhys toed at a rock between the wooden slats on the porch as they silently drank their beers. Emerson was tired, so he imagined Rhys must’ve been exhausted.
“I think Mom’s homesick,” Rhys said with a frown.
“Yeah? Something she said, or just a feeling?”
“Both? When I was in the hospital, I heard them arguing about the Florida heat.”
“She’s complained about how brutal the summers can be,” Emerson said. “Maybe she’ll convince Carl to move back?”
“Maybe.” But he could see the other possibility brewing in Rhys’s brain—that if only his mom would ditch Carl already, she’d be happier. Though Rhys would never say it out loud without feeling guilty. “But I’m sure as hell not living with them.”
“You can always stay here.”
“Em—”
“Don’t. It is what it is. Shit happens, and we’re there for each other, yeah?”
“I don’t want to keep putting you out. In fact, I’ll be fine on my couch while the second floor dries out.”
“And where do you expect to shower? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not putting us out,” Emerson reasoned. “The kids love having you here. And I obviously like when you cook.”
“Oh, I see the evil plan now,” he quipped. “I can be your built-in house frau so you can catch ball games with your friend.”
His words had some bite to them that Emerson didn’t quite understand.
“Dude. You don’t have to watch the kids—”
“Sorry, just losing my mind a bit,” he replied, though there was still an edge to his voice. “Having some great fucking luck lately.”
“I hear you.” Emerson softened his tone. “I think you’ll feel more like yourself once you get back to work on Monday.”
“Fuck, between hospital bills and a new roof, I’ll need to work overtime.”
“Hey, deep breaths.” When Emerson placed his hand on his back and rubbed in circles to try and soothe him, Rhys seemed to melt into his touch. Now more than ever, Emerson needed to swallow those other feelings and be there for his friend, who might crack under the strain if Emerson didn’t help him hold all the pieces together.
17
Rhys
Rhys had gotten home from work and was rolling out a homemade pizza crust when Emerson ambled through the door, appearing a bit distracted. It was the night of the playoff game that Emerson was attending with Neil. It felt