Page 7 of Rhett (The Swift Brothers #3)

CHAPTER SIX

Tripp

T here’s a buzz of excitement beneath my skin I probably shouldn’t be feeling for something as simple as going ice-skating with Rhett. But the truth is, I like him. From our dinner the other night, to the conversation in the truck, seeing how much thought he put into Meadow’s gifts, and then what he’d said to me earlier about Meadow being great and how I have something to do with that.

“You provide an environment where she feels comfortable exploring who she is, and making her own dreams, and you give her moments she wants to remember. If you weren’t a safe place for her…”

That’s really all I’ve ever wanted. For my daughter to be safe and happy. Rhett’s somber tone showed how serious he was, how much he believed what he said, and I can’t help wondering if anyone ever provided a safe place for him. Did Rhett live in an environment where he felt comfortable being who he is? I would have thought yes. He’s always come off as so settled in his skin. Not to mention his father being Gregory Swift—former mayor, lawyer, and congressman. Growing up in Birchbark, we all thought Gregory had our best interests at heart. We thought he was a family man who would do anything for those he loved, including this town, but getting to know Rhett and hearing little comments he’s made about East, I’ve had a niggling feeling for a while that our assumptions were wrong.

I hang toward the back of the line with Rhett, while everyone else picks up their skates. “What size are you?” I ask Rhett when it’s our turn.

“Eleven.”

I get two sets of eleven, and we carry them over to one of the benches and put them on.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Rhett mumbles softly.

“It’ll be fun.”

“It won’t be fun if I fall on my ass.”

“Aw, I’ll catch you,” I tease, but Rhett whips his head in my direction as if both surprised and unsure how to feel about what I said. “Shit. I’m sorry. I was being playful.” I don’t know what it is about this man that makes me flirt with him, that makes me want to see him smile. That’s unusual for me. On the other hand, I feel like it was clearly a joke. As far as I know, Rhett doesn’t even know I’m bisexual.

“I know. It’s fine.” He focuses on his skates.

Once we’re all laced up, we stand and carefully make our way to the ice. Everyone else seems to have beaten us out there, Meadow between her friends, holding their hands. My chest warms at the sight.

“Are you good at this?” Rhett asks me, wobbly on his feet.

“I wouldn’t say I’m good, but I’m not bad. I can stay on my feet fairly well.” I step out onto the ice. Rhett lingers behind. Dusty and Morgan are laughing as their arms flail and they try not to fall. I see nothing but pure joy between them—Morgan not as closed off as Easton and Rhett.

Rhett follows me out onto the ice, gingerly, keeping one hand on the balustrade for balance. He tries to move, but it’s awkward, and he almost falls but catches himself.

“Here. Take my hand.”

“I can do it,” he snaps, then shakes his head. “Sorry. I…don’t like it when I can’t do something.”

I don’t think he likes it when he’s not in control either, but I don’t mention that. “None of us do.”

“I think you underestimate my need for perfection.”

His admission isn’t something I’d have expected to hear. In a strange way, it’s nice having him be honest with me, gracing me with this glimpse into who he is. “No one is perfect, Rhett.”

“Does that mean we shouldn’t try?”

I frown, those words rubbing me wrong. What kind of high standards does he set for himself? And what does it do to him if he can’t accomplish them?

“Never mind. Ignore me.” He tries to skate again, hand still firmly on the ledge. He’s moving haltingly but still going. I keep close to him, hands to myself, but staying near in case he needs me. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Stay here with me. I’m an adult. I can manage.”

“Maybe I want to skate with you.” Which is true.

“Hi, Dad! Hi, Rhett!” Meadow skates by us, she and her friends laughing together.

“God, I love seeing her like that,” slips out.

Rhett watches me as we move around the edge of the ice. “With her friends?”

“Yeah. That and being happy. I worried when she started socially transitioning. I didn’t know how it would affect her at school and with her friends. Even before she told me she’s trans, I had an…I don’t know, parental instinct that something was different. She gravitated toward friendships with girls and small things like that. I had no idea what it meant—if anything. I know those things don’t necessarily mean anything, so I tried not to make assumptions. When she told me we were wrong about her and that she’s a girl, I…well, I hate to admit it, but it rocked my world at first. It’s not something I’d considered.”

“I think that’s understandable.”

“Yeah, but I wish I hadn’t felt that way. I didn’t know anything about being trans or having a trans child. I was confused, but more importantly I was scared for her. I wanted her to have as easy a life as possible, and I knew her truth would give her more struggles.”

“But you supported her. That’s what will help make it easier on her.”

“I hope so. I’m always afraid I’m doing something wrong.” I chuckle. “But her happiness was still the most important thing to me, so I listened, learned, and supported her.” It had been a process, going to therapy, separately and together. Talking to doctors, specialists. “As she started to socially transition—first around the family, when she chose her name and when we called her she and she wore dresses—I saw how much her confidence grew. It made me realize she’d always been holding back before but that she wasn’t anymore.” I shake my head. “Sorry for word-vomiting. Shit. We keep apologizing back and forth. I’m not sure what made me share all that. I guess because it’s her birthday.” And maybe because I like talking to Rhett.

He slows even more, his grip on the ledge tightening. “I think it’s great. Brave.”

“So fucking brave, right? Before she was ten, she knew herself better than most adults I know.”

“You too.”

“Me too what?”

“Brave,” Rhett replies.

“All I did was love her.”

“Not everyone does that.”

No, no they don’t. “Thank you. It didn’t feel brave for me, though. Just natural to want to protect my child. Anyway, Jasmine and Kaylee were her best friends before she socially transitioned, and she was scared to tell them. We waited until the start of a new school year. I’d met with the school and talked with their parents. Fortunately, the girls and their parents were accepting and affirming. Honestly, I was more worried about the adults.”

“Grown folks can be terrible,” Rhett says.

“They can. We’ve been pretty lucky so far. I can’t pretend it’s always been easy. There are hateful people everywhere. There’s been some bullying and negativity, but we work through that together, and she’s got Jasmine and Kaylee.”

“You two are slow.” Meadow skates over to us. This time, she’s alone.

“We’re old. Cut us some slack,” I joke.

“Here. I’ll help you.” Meadow offers her hand to Rhett. He doesn’t take it right away, and she says, “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

But unlike with me, Rhett unfolds his arm for her. Their hands clasp together, and when she eases away from the wall, Rhett goes with her. I stop moving, watching their backs as the two of them slowly skate away, Rhett trusting her in a way he didn’t do with me. Maybe a little inspired by her fearlessness and zest for life and digging deep to find his own. When they almost slip, legs and arms flailing, and then the two of them laugh together, the sight hits me like a bolt of lightning to the chest.

I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Rhett Swift laugh, and I wish they were close enough so I could hear the sound.

When I get back around to the other side, I exit the ice. Easton and Archer are sitting at the table.

“I hate skating,” Easton says, making Archer chuckle.

“Look at your brother,” I tell him. “Maybe that will help.”

They scan the ice, and I watch East’s face transform when he spots them, see his smile and feel the emotion of it. “That’s…good. Real good,” East says.

Archer reaches over and takes his hand.

“He’s not who I thought he was,” I admit.

“We weren’t given the freedom or the luxury to figure out who we were. The three of us are doing it now…maybe Rhett the most.”

I don’t know what that means. Don’t know what went on behind closed doors in the Swift family, but what I’ve seen from Easton, coupled with what he just said, tells me it wasn’t good. Maybe that’s why Morgan left for ten years. Easton turned to getting into trouble, and Rhett…Rhett tried to make himself perfect.

I nod at Easton, then walk over to the wall and watch him skate with my daughter.

They don’t stay out there long, but when they exit the ice, Rhett’s laughing again.

“You got good quickly,” I tell him.

“I had a good teacher.” He gives me a small grin, then rubs a hand over the dark stubble along his jaw. He heads over to the tables, and somehow, I know he’s done skating for the day.

We take a break to eat, then to open presents. Rhett lingers toward the back, keeping his distance. Meadow beams at his gifts, so excited to have two mannequins for her clothes. I’m pretty sure Rhett blushes.

After gifts we have cake, and then some people head back out to the ice. I go with Meadow and her friends, and when I’m finished, I see Morgan and Dusty first. “Do you know where Rhett is?” I ask.

They shake their heads, and we look around. Morgan finds East, but he hasn’t seen Rhett either, and I have a feeling that when no one was paying attention, Rhett Swift slipped out.