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Authors: Sharon Coady

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BOOK: Christmas Choices
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“I will, I promise. I love you.” Another tear slid down her face.

“I love you too, baby doll. Goodbye.”

When she was able to compose herself, she returned Denny’s call.
I wonder who will answer? I need to get Denny a better phone.
Just when she thought it would go to voicemail, she heard Denny’s voice.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Rhian.”

“Ms. Rhian!” He laughed. “You called me back. I thought you didn’t get my message.”

“I’m sorry. I was so busy. Is everything all right? How are things going with the café?’

“Everything is going good, Rhian. Your grandpa called last night and said he’s startin’ to feel better. He can’t wait to see the cooking stuff you picked out.”

“That’s wonderful, Denny.” She felt the tears fall again and wiped them away.

“He’s a funny man, you know. He was cuttin’ up with me. He said he’s gonna hire you to put a painting in the cafe when you get back. Where you at Ms. Rhian? Why did you leave?”

“I’m in Italy to do some painting.”

“Italy? That’s far away, ain’t it?” His voice sounded muffled. “Italy, Mr. Kellen.” She heard him whisper loudly.

She rolled her eyes. In her heart, she didn’t think he cared and braced herself for his answer.

“What? I don’t know.” His voice was clear again. “Hey Ms. Rhian, Mr. Kellen wants to know what the hell you’re doing in Italy. What? Oh, I wasn’t supposed to ask you. Well, why did you say it to me? Don’t get mad at me, I ain’t the one that asked. Now he’s mad that I asked you, Ms. Rhian.”

“Denny, tell Mr. Slade I am in Italy painting, just like I told you. Why does he care anyway?” she mumbled.

“She’s in Italy painting and she wants to know why you care anyway,” Denny yelled.

Rhian heard a loud rumbling and knew Kellen had started his Harley and taken off.

“I don’t think he heard me, Ms. Rhian. He got mad and rode off on his Harley. I’ll tell him when he comes back. He’ll be back ‘cuz I’ve got his phone. When you comin’ home?”

She sighed. “I don’t know. I guess when I figure some things out.” She hesitated for a minute then threw caution to the wind. “How is Kellen doing?”

“Okay but misses you and he’s mad you left without telling him anything. He went to your house the day you left, and you wouldn’t answer your phone.”

“He did? Why is he mad?”
Do I even want to know?

“He went to your house to ask you not to leave, and I guess he’s mad because you didn’t call him. Gosh, do I have to figure everything out for both of you?”

She smiled despite herself. “What do you mean?”

“Ms. Rhian.” He sighed loud and long, like a tea kettle ready to whistle. “I think he likes you, but won’t let himself believe it. Sounds like you like him, but you ran away so you don’t have to face it. Am I the only one who sees it?”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

“Ms. Rhian, tsk, tsk. You never saw the way he looks at you? I know the way you look at him. I think you guys like each other and you’re too darn stubborn to say it.”

“I think you are reading too much into this.”

“Okay.” He sighed. “Anyway, he’s moping around like he lost something. I got to go, Ms. Rhian. When he comes back, he’ll want to hurry up and finish what we are doing. Can you call me later?” he asked. “Oh, this is his phone so you have to call while we’re working. I guess he will be back soon, I don’t think he will want me to keep his phone.”

“Okay, I’ll call you in a few days. Tell Mr. Slade I said hello when he comes back, okay?”

“I will, Ms. Rhian. I don’t know why you don’t tell him yourself. Just like I don’t know why he asked me to call you instead of calling you himself.”

“He asked you to call me?”

“Yeah, he wanted to know where you were. He was worried because you hadn’t called to check on the café. So I called for him, told him you would call me back. I was right wasn’t I, Ms. Rhian?”

“Yes you were, Denny. I will always call you back. That’s a promise. Remember I am six hours ahead of you now, okay?”

“Oh you are? That’s funny.”

“Yes, so you can’t call me late because I will be in bed, and I can’t call you early because you will be in bed.”

“Okay, I’ll try to remember. Oh, Ms. Rhian. Did you get any painting done yet?”

“Yes, I did. I’m starting on my next one now.”

“That’s great. How many paintings you gonna do before you can come back home?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll call you when I know I’m coming home. How does that sound?”

“It sounds great, Ms. Rhian. I’ll be sure to tell Mr. Kellen what you said. Bye now.”

“Bye Denny. Take care of everyone for me until I come back.”

“Sure, you can count on me, I promise. Bye.”

She put her phone down and thought about what he had said.
Could Kellen really have feelings for me?
She didn’t want to think about it right now. She walked back to her bedroom and changed into her paint clothes. No time like the present. It seemed she would be painting the parts of her life that had caused her the most happiness and pain for now.

Chapter Twenty-Two

T
he following week, she called Dante to arrange a visit to his art studio. He gave her directions to a café in town and agreed to meet her the following afternoon at one.

She found herself looking forward to the trip into town and wondered what this little café would be like. He had promised her a delightful lunch, but she was most excited about seeing his paintings. Would she be embarrassed about her own work once she saw them?

The next morning, after a light breakfast, she headed into town. As she drove through the rolling hills of the countryside, Rhian knew she would never get enough of Italy. She easily found the café from Dante’s directions. He sat outside the café at a little table waiting for her; she waved at him. How perfectly Italian everything looked, like the old movies she used to watch with her mother and grandmother.

He stood and kissed her on both cheeks. “Mia bella. How are you this lovely morning?”

“I’m wonderful. I don’t think I will ever tire of the scenery around here. How are you, Dante?” He held out a chair for her.

“Much better now that you’re here. They have many magnificent foods here. Would you like me to order for you?”

Her mind flashed back to her first meal with Kellen and how angry she had become when he ordered her beer without asking. She was pleased Dante had not presumed to order for her. “Yes, that would be very nice.”

“Wonderful, mia bella. Do you like seafood?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I know what we shall have.” He beckoned to the waiter. “Buon pomeriggio. My lady and I will have your best red wine and fresh oysters to start. For the main course, we will have scampi served with a light bread and pasta. La ringrazio.” He turned back to Rhian. “Now, we shall see if I can please you today.”

“I love the sound of Italian. I really wish I had learned to speak another language fluently. May I ask what you ordered?”

“I think you will enjoy everything, let it be a surprise. The appetizer should be out soon. They fix the oysters in a very special way here. So, did you start on another painting yet?”

“Yes, one of my mother and grandmother who died in a car accident when I was young. My last memory of them was when they both turned to wave goodbye to my grandfather and me as they walked away. They had the biggest smiles on their faces. Grandmother blew Grandfather a kiss and he caught it in his hand. That’s what I want to try to capture in the painting, the love between them.”

“It is amazing to me that you can paint from memory and capture such emotion in your work, mia bella. He leaned toward her and captured her hand in his, giving it a little squeeze. “I must say I’m nervous about bringing you to see my work. I am afraid I don’t capture emotions like you do.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Alas, it is something an artist either possesses or does not.”

“I’m sure your work is much better than mine! You specialize in portraits. This was my first.”

“Well, you have created a painting that will put mine to shame. Ah, here comes our appetizer.”

The waiter set the plate of oysters in the center of the table along with a tray of different crackers. “You like oysters, I hope.”

“I do, but it’s been a while since I’ve had any. These look great. What is on them?” She leaned closer, taking in the scent, her brows drawn together.

“Oh, the chef prepares these especially for me and will not divulge his secret. But I promise, you will love them.” He picked one off the plate, using a little fork to slide it onto a small cracker, leaned forward and let her take a bite.

“Oh! This is amazing,” she replied, her eyes wide. “My gosh, I’ve never tasted anything so good.” She slid a couple onto her little dish and ate with abandon, her eyes closed to savor every bite.

“I’m so glad you approve. They are my favorite. We must be sure you have them again soon.” He pushed some onto his plate as well.

The waiter arrived with the main course and fresh, warm bread with whipped butter. Plates of shrimp scampi and a variety of pasta Rhian had never seen before soon followed. The waiter stood beside her with a grater in his hand. He leaned toward Rhain’s plate with the fresh Parmesan cheese. “Formaggio grattugiato fresco?”

Rhian nodded and watched as the waiter grated a sprinkling of cheese over the dish. She held her hand up. “Grazie.”

He smiled at her and turned to Dante. “Formaggio grattugiato fresco?”

Dante nodded then turned to Rhian. “Go ahead and taste it. It is the house special.”

Rhian placed a forkful of the pasta and shrimp in her mouth. Her eyes grew wide when the sauce hit her tongue. “Oh my gosh, I would be as wide as a house if I ate this every day. I don’t know how ya’ll stay so slim.”

Dante laughed. “You really have a way with words, mia bella. I am so happy you agree with my choices today. I adore watching how much you enjoy your food.”

A blush spread over her face. “I’m sorry. I get so excited when I taste something new. It irritates my father.”

“No, don’t be sorry. It makes me very happy. To tell the truth, it makes me taste the flavors all over again. Thank you for being someone who wears her emotions so close to the surface, Rhian. I really like that about you.”

“I embarrass myself sometimes when I’m with my friends. They find it silly.”

“Well, I think they must be the foolish ones to go through life not savoring each moment. You have made me realize that again.”

Once they finished their meals, they walked the short distance to Dante’s art store. The size of his place surprised her. He had everything an artist could imagine and more. Canvases in every size and shape, types of brushes she had never seen before, pencils, chalks, and even frames. She tried to take everything in as they walked to the back of the store where he had his studio. Beautiful paintings of men and women from every age and walk of life covered the walls. Rhian strolled slowly, observing the details of each portrait. She felt as if she looked through a window at a personal moment in each person’s life.

A painting of an old man in a dark red knit cap caught her eye; she studied it for a long time. She loved the wrinkles around his eyes and the sparkle in them, as if they held some wonderful secret. A slight smile turned up the corner of his lips. He wore a gray knit sweater and held an old burled pipe. His hand was weathered and strong, the hand of someone who had worked hard all his life.

She turned to Dante. “This is beautiful. Does he live around here?”

“He was my grandfather—the gentlest, kindest, most hardworking man you would ever meet. His family had money, but he chose to work a farm and raise a family. His father respected his wishes but always told him his inheritance would remain there for him. My grandfather chose not to touch it. He left it as a legacy to his family. I think because of him, my father instilled a work ethic in all of us. He died a few years ago, and I still miss him.”

“I’m so sorry. Where did he live?”

“About sixty miles from where you are staying. We still have his home. Would you like to see it sometime?”

“Oh, Dante. I would love to see where he farmed and raised his family. Thank you.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

D
enny watched Kellen closely as they hung the last of the sheet rock in the kitchen. He worried about the man. He didn’t know if Kellen knew how much he had changed. Gone was the swagger Denny remembered. Now he was more humble and less of a braggart.

He reckoned Kellen missed Ms. Rhian. He had stopped asking about her and somehow his spirit seemed broken. Denny didn’t like it one bit.

“Mr. Kellen, why don’t you just call her? She didn’t say you couldn’t call her when I talked to her. She just said she had some paintin’ to do and some things to work out. But she sounded really happy when I told her about you and me working on the café together.”

Kellen sighed. “If she wanted to talk to me, she would call me. She told me to deal with her father, remember? It was a mistake. I’m not who she needs.”

“How do you know? You are a really good man, Mr. Kellen. I can see it, even if no one else can.”

“Thanks, Denny,” he said, chuckling. “That means a lot to me. Now stop talking about her and get some work done so we can call it a day. Hey, you want to come have dinner with me?” he asked, as he placed another drywall screw in the board.

“Sure, Mr. Kellen. Are we goin’ to go see if you can get another woman to go home with you tonight?”

Kellen stopped and spun around to look at the man. “I haven’t done that for a while now. I know I bragged about it before. It was wrong. Sleeping with them and walking out was not a very nice thing to do.”

“But you said they liked it when you took them home and had sex with them because you’re really good.”

“I guess I am, but it just doesn’t seem the same anymore. I don’t know why, it just feels wrong to me now. Hell, maybe I’m just bored.”

“No, I think you are in love. But I’m not goin’ to say it because you’ll just get mad and deny it. But I think that’s what it is.” He picked up the tools and placed them in the box like Kellen had showed him.

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