Page 25 of Where We Call Home

I felt that to my core. My mom had taken on both roles after my dad passed away. At least I had ten solid years with mine, Rhodes never even had a chance.

“I get that. My dad passed away when I was ten,” I said. “My mom handled everything with so much grace, even though her whole world was turned upside down.”

The conversation had taken a serious turn, but with Rhodes, it didn’t feel uncomfortable. He listened, really listened, giving me his full attention.

“That’s why we moved here. After he passed, we needed a change,” I continued. “I’m glad we did because who knows where I’d have ended up if we’d stayed in Oklahoma.”

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” he said, his voice soft. “That kind of pain doesn’t really go away, does it? Was it sudden?”

His words cut deep, but not in a bad way. Not many people knew the details of my dad’s death. It was sudden and devastating, and I never got the chance to say goodbye. Thinking about it still tore me apart.

I nodded, deciding to share a little more. “He died in a car accident. Not having closure keeps the wound open.”

I spared Rhodes the haunting details: my dad driving late from a job to surprise me at a soccer game I’d begged him to attend, the accident that robbed me of him forever. After that, I stopped asking for things from anyone.

“Jesus, Theo. I’m sorry,” Rhodes said. Then, to my surprise, he added with a crooked smile, “Now we’re both assholes.”

A laugh escaped me, a snort, really, and once I started, I couldn’t stop. Rhodes joined in, and for the first time in forever, I didn’t feel weighed down by my grief.

“We can call it even now,” I said, wiping my eyes as I took another bite of pasta.

The rest of dinner flowed easily. Conversation came naturally, and when the plates were clean and dessert devoured, I didn’t want the night to end. Usually, by this time, I’d be curled up in pajamas, watching TV. However, I craved more time with Rhodes.

“I’d suggest playing a game, but neither of us likes losing,” I teased, leaning back in my chair.

“I’ve got a game we can play solo. No losing to someone else,” he said with a smirk.

Rhodes disappeared down the hall and returned holding two decks of cards. “Solitaire.”

“Ugh, I’ve heard of it but I’ve never actually played it.”

He feigned shock. “Theo. You’ve never played? It’s the ultimate game for an only child.”

“That’s definitely not true. I’m an only child, and I’ve never heard of it.”

Rhodes handed me a deck, then cleared the table to demonstrate. “We have more in common than I thought,” he said.

“What? No dad and an only child?” I quipped.

“Exactly,” he replied, smirking as he winked.

I fumbled with the cards, trying to follow his lead as he patiently showed me how to shuffle and set up the game. Despite my clumsiness, he was encouraging, guiding me through each step.

At first, I was slow, asking a million questions and second-guessing every move. With Rhodes’ help, I got the hang of it, and soon we were playing in companionable silence.

Every so often, I’d catch him stealing glances at me, and I’d sneak looks at him too. Without his usual hat, his tousled black hair curled behind his ears. Freckles dotted his sun-kissed nose, softening his rugged, masculine features. He was...beautiful.

“You know what game I love?” I asked, breaking the quiet.

“Hmm?” he hummed, giving me his full attention.

“Scrabble. Specifically, the digital version. I play it every morning and night before bed.”

“You play against strangers?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got at least five games going right now,” I said.

The tradition had started with my family. Tuesday nights were game nights with Mom and Dad, and Scrabble was always the highlight. After Dad passed, Mom and I kept it alive as long as we could. Playing online now gave me a way to hold onto those memories.

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