6

"You invited him where?" Gwen laughs as she flicks her hair back, the shower used until the water ran cold no doubt and he knew the clothes dumped on the floor stinking to high heaven were still there for him to get rid of too as she sneered "what a sad sack, he really looked homeless?"

"Well at least he would help out and Anwen likes him" Rhys finds himself getting into Rant Mode and he stops himself, instead watching the woman he once loved.

Once.

He does not recognize her anymore.

.

.

The presents were wrapped, and the buffet table was piled high with casseroles, noodle dishes, Filipino egg rolls or lumpia, and even a whole roast suckling pig, or as the excited women called it, lechón.

Andy was surprised at the diversity of the Baptist Church. It seemed in the ten years since he'd been gone that the Bay Area had become truly international.

Beautiful women from the Philippines, Ecuador, Puerto Rico, Haiti, and Costa Rica swarmed around him, each offering up dishes from their home country. He'd never had Filipino spaghetti before, sweet with sliced hotdogs. The woman who made it, Francine, even put pepperoni in hers and laced it with cheddar cheese.

Meanwhile, Davina from Puerto Rico wanted him to try the pasteles, a tamale made of plantains with meats and spices wrapped in parchment paper. He was plied with tres leches, a sponge cake soaked with three types of milk, sweet potato pudding pie, peppermint bark, and hot cider eggnog.

A missionary gave a presentation on Christmas in the Solomon Islands, and one of his daughters showed Andy her pet bird, a bright green Solomon Island eclectus parrot who said, "Believe."

Andy hadn't felt as carefree and alive for a long time, but the lights were too bright and the women's voices too high pitched. His senses were on full alert, and he startled when someone dropped a stack of plates, his hand automatically going to where the pistol grip of his gun would be. He breathed in slowly through his nose, inhaling the fragrant scents, the aromas of the food, the smell of gunpowder.

No. Not gunpowder.

Wax candles and paraffin warming trays.

The hubbub of voices around him pounded in his ear, although softer than the booming of mortar shells. He looked for Rhys, but he had disappeared into the kitchen. he'd avoided him all evening, sat at a table far from him after serving on the buffet line, carving and serving the suckling pig.

Throughout dinner, he'd kept his gaze averted from him and hustled around serving dessert, cleaning messes, and pouring coffee and tea.

"Have another slice of pie?" a pretty Asian lady said.

Andy rubbed his belly and shook his head. "I'm going to explode."

"Will you come back for the Christmas pageant next week? How about Wednesday evening? We have choir practice, and we'll go carolling at the Square the entire week before Christmas."

"Sounds interesting, thanks." Andy gave her a smile and checked his watch. The weather had turned cold and drizzly, and he wasn't looking forward to the long walk to his spot at the YMCA. If he wanted a bed at the shelter, he'd better get going.

"Papa!" Anwen skipped toward him; her arms stretched wide. "Santa told me you're an elf. A big elf, like that green one on TV."

Her grandmother clapped a hand over the child's mouth. "You can't go around calling him 'Papa' pet."

Andy laughed and patted Anwen on the head. "How about you call me Andy? That's my big elf name."

Anwen's thumb went into her mouth. Out of the side of his eye, Andy saw the group of single women whispering and pointing to Anwen. Oh well, he didn't mind her messing up his reputation. He wasn't in any position to date or flirt with any of them. No woman really understood what he wanted from life. To them, it was all about snagging a husband with a stable pay check and making him fit into the mortgage, child-rearing, college tuition paying schedule.

"Where's your mother?" Andy asked Anwen.

Rhys's mother scanned the room. "Gwen's not here, don't be silly. Rhys is around here somewhere. Probably in the kitchen cleaning up. Why don't I find him for you?"

"No, don't bother on my account." Andy stood and stretched. "I have to line up at the shelter if I want a bed. Looks like a storm coming in."

"Oh my. You're right," Rhys's mother said. "It's going to be howling out there. Windy and raining. You must stay with me. I have an extra bedroom."

"Thanks, ma'am, but I can't." Andy pulled his raincoat from the folding chair. "It wouldn't be right."

"Call me Beryl, and I won't take no for an answer."

"Please, please?" Anwen said, her hands clasped in a praying position. "God says to be nice for Christmas. You can stay and play with me while Taddy is working."

"Uh, I'm not sure your mother would like that." Andy backed toward the door. "I better get going. The meal was delicious, and I'm stuffed."

"Andy Davidson." Rhys's mother, Beryl, put her hands on her hips. "I have a light bulb I need changing and it's too high for me to reach. I also have to change the batteries for my smoke detectors. Think you can give me a hand?"

"I can do that for you tomorrow." He tipped his baseball cap at her. "But, I must be going. Thanks."

"Then you'll stay for dinner tomorrow evening. Promise me," Beryl said. "I'll have a nice roast in the oven, sweet potatoes on the side, and green bean casserole."

"Cookies, too." Anwen clapped her hands. "I lick the fwosting and spwinkles."

He glanced around for Rhys, but he was nowhere in sight. Beryl had a right to make friends whether Gwen approved or not. Besides, he wasn't done with Rhys, not by a long shot. If he thought he could brush him off as a charity case, he was mistaken. Behind that self-reliant exterior was a man, a strong one, but one who had needs. And judging by the incessant blushing, he probably hadn't had a good fuck since the night he conceived Anwen.

Reaching over to shake Beryl's hand, Andy straightened his back and stood to his full height. "Looking forward to it, ma'am, er, Beryl. Make a list of everything you need done, and I'll see you tomorrow."

.

.

Beryl draws the curtains back. "Look out there."

It's morning, but the storm hasn't relented. Tree branches dance in the howling wind, and rainwater sloshes against the windows. No one should have been outdoors last night. Rhys's chest hollows and his stomach contracts. "Do you think Andy got a bed? The shelters are overcrowded and turn away able-bodied men."

"Then I should have insisted." Beryl purses her lips and huffs. "The man is too polite and scared of you. I can tell. He looked around for you when I asked him to come over."

"Me? He's the one surrounded by all the single women at the church."

"Can we admit you're officially jealous?" Mom chuckles. "I saw you glaring at the women talking to him."

"I was only pissed they weren't doing any of the work. I could care less if they flirt with him." Rhys pours cereal for Anwen.

The bell rings. Speak of the devil. Sure enough, it's Andy. Rhys opens the door.

Andy's eyes seem to light up when he spots him, and a grin brightens his face. He's carrying a two-level toolbox. He must have a storage locker at the Y "Thanks for inviting me to your church."

He shakes the water from his raincoat.

"Did you get enough to eat?"

"Gosh, that was the best meal I had in a long time." He rubs his stomach. Well, in his case, it's likely to be a six-pack slab of muscle. "I owe you dinner."

"You don't give up, do you?" Something sinful tingles low in Rhys's gut. It can't be his sparkling god-like looks or the whiff of sporty cologne over his well muscled chest. It has to be indigestion or something he ate last night. "Well, come in. My mother's expecting you."

"Davidsons don't give up." He steps into the apartment. "When are you free?"

"I have work today, and my mother already invited you to dinner, so I'll see you this evening. Gwen is working as per, but I am on morning shift" Rhys goes back into the kitchen and kiss Anwen on the top of her head.

Andy sets his toolbox on the floor and greets Rhys's mother with a kiss on the cheek. Since when have they gotten so close? Anwen jumps from her chair and reaches for a hug, and when he picks her up, swinging her around, Rhys gulps as his heart contracts.

"Bye, Mum, Anwen," Rhys yells as he exits the apartment.

"If the weather clears, let's meet under the clock outside Thames House."

"I don't know." Rhys wonders what Gwen will say. Then he wonders if she will even care "I better get to work."

"See you around one. Unless it's still raining."

"Yes!"

Andy jogged around the corner from Beryl's apartment complex toward the shed where he stored his clothes. "Please, God, take the rain away."

This was important.

He had a date with Rhys.