Page 48 of Just Say Christmas
“Most people don’t see the patterns,” he said. “They just see a bunch of stars. But you painted the right patterns.”
“So that’s an example,” Rhys said, “where you had somebody else lay down the background on your instructions, Nyree, and then you came in and finished the details, and it ended up looking brilliant.”
He looked at Isaiah, who said, “It does.”
“I like how you made the stars sparkly, too,” Casey said. “Can you make my picture sparkly?”
“I think I can find a place to add some sparkle,” Nyree said. “And I guess . . . if I had the right people to help. Not too many people, so they’re not in my way.”
“Which isn’t me,” Marko said. “Never mind, I hear that one coming.”
“Kane does OK,” Nyree said, ignoring Marko, because he was right. “More artistic than he thinks. Luke, too, maybe. You wouldn’t think so, looking at him, but Luke used to do funny cartoons to make me smile, when I was a miserable teenager. Tom, too, if he’s still around, and if he’s willing to come help on short notice. They’re all tall as well, which helps, and they’re all here, and itisthe offseason. Pity Ella’s back in Tekapo, doing her last week of school. Ella knows how to paint.”
“I’d help myself,” Zora said, “but . . . too many flowers. I’ve got my last batch of home deliveries for the year on Friday, and then your wedding. I’m a bit flat-out right now. Maybe Rhys . . .”
“No,” Nyree said. “You’d make me nervous,” she told Rhys. “You’re the client. The customer. You can’t help.”
“Right,” Marko said, pulling out his phone. “I’m sending a text now, getting it sorted. And then,” he told Nyree, “I’m ordering a takeaway that we’ll collect on the way home.”
“I could start at seven tomorrow,” Nyree said.
Marko said, without looking up from his phone, “Or you could start at eight. With helpers.”
She gave up. “Tell them to come at nine. Give me a chance to sketch their parts in and plan them out. It will still take part of Thursday, too,” she admitted. “But I’ll be done that afternoon, with two days just to paint details.” All of her, suddenly, felt looser, like the knots had unraveled. “Could you order Thai?” she asked Marko.“Heapsof Thai? Because I’m starved.”
He said, “I already am.” Which was why she was marrying him, despite his high-handed tendencies. Well, it was one of the reasons.
26
All Over Again
Wednesday,December 16
LUKE
Every single time you saw somebody new, Luke was finding, you had to come out all over again. It was exhausting. He’d never thought of himself as short on strength, but this was getting to him. And he hadn’t even told his dad yet. Or his team.
This afternoon, though, he was coming to help Nyree paint. And seeing Kane again, and tellinghim.He hadn’t had a chance yet, or he hadn’t made the chance. Whichever. He needed to do it before the wedding, though, and never mind how the thought of all of it made him want to curl up inside.
The GPS told him he’d arrived, although the driveway wasn’t marked. Made sense. You tended to forget how small a place New Zealand was and how outsized a part rugby played in it, although, of course, that was the reason he didn’t live in New Zealand anymore. Rhys would keep a low profile here, and when Luke pulled the car in behind three others, that was what he saw. A house with a very low profile.
Rhys had never been what you’d call a flashy fella, though, not like his brother Dylan. Luke had played on the All Blacks with Rhys a decade ago. A lifetime ago. Rhys had been over thirty then, with a firm hold on his position both on the field and in the leadership group. Dylan had been in and out of the squad, as brilliant one week as he was missing in action the next, and Luke himself had been about twenty-one, having a hard time believing he’d made it here, just trying to keep his head down and do his job. To be noticed for his workrate without being noticed for himself. Fortunately, rugby was good for that.
He got out of the car, walked to the front door, hesitated a moment, then told himself,Harden up. It’s Nyree, and she needs your help,and rang the bell.
It took a minute for the door to open, and a few seconds after that for him to recognize the woman who’d opened it. He had a good memory for faces. He was startled, but why should he be? She’d be Rhys’s sister-in-law. He said, “Hi. I’m Luke. Nyree’s stepbrother. You’re Dylan’s wife, aren’t you? I’m sorry, I don’t remember the name.”
Dylan had died a few years back. He remembered that. Something sad. Cancer, he thought. The Kiwis on the squad had had a whip-round, and Luke had put a good contribution in the hat. He hadn’t been too impressed by Dylan. Not his sort of player, or his sort of man, but a young widow, and a kid—he’d put in a good contribution.
The woman, who was short and dark and pretty, a bit like Nyree, said, “Zora Fletcher.” She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, with an apron over them that was streaked with green, like she’d been rolling in grass. She said, “I remember you, too. Please—come in. Excuse the appearance. I’m doing flowers.” She headed down the passage, then turned back and took a breath.
She was looking uncomfortable. Luke tried to keep his heart from sinking. It didn’t work. She’d heard, and she didn’t want him in the house. Even though it wasn’t even herhouse. Luke tried to be outraged about that. It wasn’t that he wasn’t outraged, it was just that he was more . . . hurt.
It was true. Hurt. This shouldn’t get under his skin, but it did. Dylan’s kid was a boy, he remembered. He couldn’t believe that anybody still thought that if you were gay, it meant you were a pedophile, but the idea was out there. It might have been there yesterday, in Ponsonby, and it was here now, it seemed. He braced himself to hear it.
Zora said, “I’m with Rhys now, actually.” Her chin was up, the color mounting in her cheeks. There was dignity, though, in the low tones of her voice, the set of her shoulders. “So you know.”
“Oh.” It hadn’t been about him. It had been about her. Dylan had been gone for years, though, and you couldn’t help who you loved. Surely it was nobody else’s business, but that never stopped anybody from having an opinion. He said the only thing he could think of. “Well, I came home to come out, so there you are. To say I’m gay,” he added when she looked confused. “Thought you’d stopped walking because you’d heard, and you weren’t going to let me in.”
