Page 31 of Painted

He smiled and stared blankly at his kitchen wall. Yeah, he really did love Early. He loved Early’s shy smile and not-so-shy moments when they felt confident in themself. He loved how efficient Early was, which was odd of him, but so true. He loved the courage Early didn’t know they had. That courage had led them to pose for his class, and really, that same courage was what had led to last night.

There were so many things about Early that were wonderful, but that they didn’t see about themself. Maybe last night was a mistake, but maybe not. Mad as it was, Rhys found himself wanting to make up for any misunderstandings not by turning cold and keeping his distance, but by trying again with more talking about it beforehand and a deeper understanding of what the two of them meant to each other.

Those thoughts settled a lot of the upset in Rhys’s soul. He finished his tea, rinsed his mug and left it in the sink, then headed to the bathroom for a shower. Things would work out between him and Early one way or another, he would make certain of it.

The quiet joy of believing he could make things right and start something special with Early buoyed Rhys’s spirits as he washed and dressed for the day. He left his flat full of optimism and headed downstairs. He might even be able to get some work done on Raina’s painting at the rate he was going.

All that crashed into a mess around his feet when he ran into his dad and Nick at the bottom of the stairs in the family corridor.

“Hey, Rhys, there you are,” his dad said, all false smiles and preemptive tension.

“Morning,” Rhys greeted his dad and his brother-in-law with nods.

“Hey,” Nick said. He looked like he hadn’t slept well, and he was carrying a squirming, fussing Macy.

Something sharp and sticky pulled at Rhys’s insides. Before he could stop the thought, he looked at Macy, angry that Raina wasn’t there to calm her. Macy needed her mum, but because of some drunk behind a wheel, she would never get that comfort ever again.

He might have been able to dismiss the intrusive thought or breathe through it, but his dad said, “Things just got a little bitmore complicated with the fundraiser, and we wanted to talk to you about it before you heard it anywhere else.”

“How complicated?” Rhys asked, feeling his grief-fueled anger rising in him like an incoming tide.

Nick shuffled Macy in his arms and tried to cuddle her, but she was clearly upset, too. “You know Martin Flint has been the one behind the efforts to raise money for CADD and awareness for sensible drinking,” he said.

“Yeah?” Rhys crossed his arms tightly, bracing himself for the blow he knew was coming.

“Well, there’s a sister as well, Nancy,” Nick continued. “She and Martin are kind of estranged, and she just found out about the whole event.”

Rhys caught himself praying the sister would step in and demand the whole thing be canceled. “And?” he asked.

“And Nancy doesn’t like what Martin’s told her about the event so far,” his dad said. “She either wants the whole thing to be turned into a memorial of Mariel’s life, complete with a media display and speeches to honor her, or she wants it called off.”

The tide of anger threatened to swallow Rhys completely. “No,” he said, hugging himself tighter to stop from shaking with rage. “Absolutely not. There is no way we’re doing a tribute to a murderer in this house. Call it off.”

“I understand that you feel that way,” his dad reached out to touch Rhys’s arm. “But we want to make this a celebration of life, not a war of grief. It’s an important cause that deserves our support.”

Rhys’s eyes went wide at his dad’s characterization of his objections. “Do you honestly think that the woman who is responsible for Raina’s death should be celebrated in any way?” he asked. The question was for his dad, but he glanced to Nick for an answer as well.

Nick sighed helplessly and continued to try to calm the fussy girl in his arms. “I’m as conflicted over the whole thing as you are, Rhys,” he said. “Probably even more.”

Rhys wasn’t sure. Raina had been Nick’s wife, but they’d only known each other five years. He’d known Raina her entire life.

“I just want to keep the peace,” Nick went on, his face drawn. “I think Raina would have looked for forgiveness first and foremost.”

“You don’t know that,” Rhys snapped, then immediately regretted it.

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to take a calming breath. He could practically see his therapist’s disappointment in the way he kept leaping before he looked and opening his mouth when it should have stayed closed.

“I appreciate your need to please people and bring this whole thing to rest,” he started again, opening his eyes and looking between his dad and Nick, “but this is wrong. Not everyone in the world is good and nice and deserving of praise. Mariel Flint did something wrong, and my sister is dead because of it.”

“I knew this would be a tough pill to swallow,” his dad started, reaching out again.

Rhys flinched away. “No, you don’t know,” he said. “You’re being too nice. Some people don’t deserve consideration. They don’t deserve an entire memorial gala where everyone talks about how great they were when they were actually a shit person.”

His breaths were getting harder and harder to suck in. His emotions felt like a ball of rubber bands unraveling and flying everywhere, completely out of control. He was skating close to a full-blown panic attack, and if he didn’t pull himself together?—

“Excuse me, Robert?” Early’s voice sounded behind Rhys. “You have a phone call.”

“Thanks, Early,” Rhys’s dad said.

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