Page 35 of Theirs for the Holidays

“Good.” I turn to leave, and Rhett follows.

There’s a drugstore not far from Violet’s house, and we start there.

“I don’t think this place is going to have her tea,” Rhett says quietly. “I think I remember that shop in the square sells stuff like that.”

“We can go there next, then,” I reply.

The drugstore has the painkillers and period products, at least. We find the right aisle, and Rhett and I stand side by side, scanning the shelves as we debate how much to buy.

“Do you think thirty-six is enough?” I ask him.

He furrows his brow. “I think I remember hearing that if you have really painful periods, the flow is usually also pretty heavy. Not always, but…” He shrugs. “She might have to change them more often. Let’s get the biggest box. Worst case, she has more than she needs and they’ll be there for her next time.”

I nod because that makes sense and load big boxes of tampons and panty liners into the basket.

It’s odd, feeling a sort of camaraderie with my brother right now. We haven’t worked together like this since the days when we had our company, but Rhett’s the kind of person who has always done better when he has a task in front of him. A problem to solve. I guess I’m the same way.

We go to the shop Rhett remembers next, and I walk up to the counter to ask the man behind it about the tea. Luckily, they have it, and I get a few boxes to replenish Violet’s supply.

“Do you think we got enough of everything?” I ask Rhett as we head back to the car.

He looks thoughtful, his eyes scanning the busy street while we walk along. “Let’s make one more stop,” he says.

I nod, trusting that he’s not suggesting it for something stupid while Violet is at home in pain, waiting for us. He ducks into the specialty chocolate shop across the street, and I follow, smiling a little.

We both know enough about periods and stuff to know that chocolate is a good thing to have on hand.

Rhett looks at me when I don’t argue, and I shrug, gathering some of the little bags that are hanging nearby to put selections in. “I remember this place,” I tell him, as if that explains everything.

Maybe it does. Or maybe Rhett is just choosing to go with it, man of few words that he is. Either way, we get some things for Violet. Truffles and little bon bons and a massive chocolate bar with a sprinkle of salt and chili on the top.

“She likes to experiment with flavors,” Rhett says, reminding me of their conversation yesterday at lunch. “Maybe she’ll be inspired and this will take her mind off the pain for a bit.”

“It’s a good idea,” I tell him.

If he’s surprised to hear it from me, he doesn’t say so. He just nods and we head to the front to pay.

We go back to Violet’s house with everything and find her curled up in bed. Sawyer’s there with her, sitting on the edge of the bed with his fingers in her hair.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her.

“A little better. I took the subpar painkillers and Sawyer got my hot water bottle. I’m just waiting for everything to kick in and put me out of my misery.”

We unload all the stuff we bought, and Violet’s eyes are warm and pleased when she looks over it. “Thank you,” she says, sounding truly grateful. “You got everything.”

“And some extras,” I say. “Rhett thought you would like some chocolate.”

He shrugs, but pushes the little bag from the chocolate shop closer to her.

“Thank you,” she says again, looking in the bag curiously. “Ooh, is that chili? Interesting.”

A little pleased smile spreads over Rhett’s face.

“Here,” I offer. “I’ll go make your tea for you.”

I slip out with the boxes, putting them in the cabinet with the other teas she’s collected. I use the electric kettle to quickly boil water and come back with the tea, steeped with honey and settle it on her nightstand.

“You guys are the best, honestly,” Violet murmurs. “I should be okay now.”