Hunting Butterflies, page 8
part #1 of Second Kisses Series
Dee's head fell back. "Man, I miss her cookies. I don't think my ass does, though."
Matty's mouth fell open. "Aunt Dee, ass is a no-no word, right? Otherwise I could say jackass."
A groan escaped my throat while Dee chuckled. "Go tell Mrs. Morris we said you could both have cookies, and make sure you remind Adam to say thank you."
Once he ran back through the house, Dee erupted into giggles. "I forgot how much they love to say bad words at that age. Now Adam just tries to sneak saying them when he thinks I can't hear him."
"He looks just like you," Tristan muttered.
I nodded. My son did look like me. Henry and I both have dark hair, but Matty also got my olive complexion and dark brown eyes instead of his father's fair skin and blue eyes.
"I take it you're getting divorced?"
"I will be as soon as I file." I refused to offer more details, even though the questioning look on his face betrayed his curiosity. It wasn't his business that my life had been a giant disappointment, apart from my son, while he'd found the golden ticket.
Tristan cocked his head to the side, studying me. I'd forgotten how he could hone in on anything I didn't want to reveal to him and rip my secrets from me without many words.
"What aren't you telling me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Lots of things. It's been ten years, Tristan."
Iris strolled into the room staring at her phone. "My neighbors are texting me pictures of my house surrounded by men with cameras."
Tristan began to pace. "Shit. They followed me through the airport. There's no escaping them at LAX. I tried to give them the slip at SEATAC, but they know I'm from here. I thought I'd seen a few paps I'd recognized heading home, so I parked my car around the corner and ran the other way. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I was afraid they'd realize a rental car in a town this size was likely mine."
He ran his hands roughly through his wavy, dark hair. "Fuck!" he growled. "I just wanted some peace to figure shit out."
Mom stepped forward, and placed a gentle hand on his arm, getting his attention. "Well, they don't seem to know you're here, so maybe if you don't go home they'll think you went somewhere else."
My mouth fell open. Surely she wasn't suggesting Tristan stay with us indefinitely. Maybe she meant he should hide out for a few hours? I felt the need to intervene before she started making up the couch, just in case.
"We don't have a spare bedroom. I'm sure he's used to better accommodations than our old, lumpy couch. Can't he, uh," I paused to think. "Can he go stay with you, Dee?"
Tristan shook his head before she had a chance to answer. "No offense, Dee, but if Rose is offering a place to stay for a bit, I'm going to accept. If I step outside, I risk getting spotted. This town is small, and those assholes are likely scouring the town to see if they can pick up my trail. She's right; if I can wait them out they'll think I went somewhere else and will probably leave town. They'll return eventually, though. Someone will let it slip that I'm back in town, but I hope I get a couple weeks of peace first."
Dee smiled sympathetically, and I knew she wasn't going to be any help. Thankfully, no one suggested I go stay at Dee's, because they knew better than to suggest I give up time with my mom when there was less and less of it each day that passed.
"Matty could come stay over with Adam tonight. I'm sure they would love that, and you need to rest to get better," Dee finally spoke up.
Tristan frowned. "What's wrong with you?"
I scowled at her. "I'm fine, really. I have pneumonia, but I'm already feeling much better." That was mostly true. I didn't feel like I was going to pass out the way I had the night I went to the emergency room, but I was far from feeling like I was back to my old self.
As the day wore on, though, my desire to crawl back into bed and sleep for centuries was returning, and so was my cough. "Yeah, I guess that could work," I replied, admitting defeat.
Dee and I went upstairs to pack Matty an overnight bag. Once we told the boys about their impending sleepover, they couldn't wait to get back to Dee's house. With a boy attached and tugging on each of her legs, she was pulled relentlessly toward the front door. "I guess this is my signal that it's time for me to take these two eager beavers to my house."
"Thanks, Dee. I'll see you tomorrow." I bent down and kissed Matty on the forehead.
He scrubbed at his skin with the bottom of his T-shirt. "Gross, Mom! You have ammonia germs!"
I laughed, but it turned into a chest rattling cough. It took a few moments, but I was finally able to stop after Iris fetched me a bottle of water. After thanking her, I turned to my son. "It's pneumonia, not ammonia baby boy."
Matty rolled his eyes and groaned. "Mom," he hissed. "Don't call me that in front of other kids."
"Sorry, I forgot. Go with Aunt Dee and have a good time. I'll be here if you need to come back."
Dee cast me a reassuring smile. "We'll be fine. I've been doing this for a while. They'll have fun, and we'll be back tomorrow."
She led both boys out toward her car. The second we heard her pull out of the driveway, Iris began rushing around packing up food. "I should go home. If they see me return home alone maybe that'll make them think Tristan didn't come home."
Suddenly, it was only Tristan, Mom, and I, and it felt oddly normal. The three of us settled in and decided to watch a movie. For years, I'd wondered what it would be like to see him again, but not once did I think we'd hang out like he'd never left, but that was what it felt like, at least for a moment. We were both avoiding talking more than necessary, so it wasn't exactly like old times, but still more familiar than I'd have liked.
Of course, choosing a movie was another strange part of our night because he personally knew most of the actors in most of Mom's favorite films. Some he vetoed because he had bad experiences with some of the actors. After a lot of debate, we agreed on Under the Tuscan Sun for the second time in as many days.
It was Mom's favorite, but she'd had a long day and started to doze off. "Mom, go on to bed. We won't kill each other. Promise."
She patted me on the leg. "Don't maim each other, either."
Tristan shook his head and moved farther away from me on the couch. "I never realized you were so violent."
I shrugged. "I guess you bring out the best in me."
His eyes narrowed. It was clear there was something he wanted to say, but didn't know how.
A deep discussion about our past was pointless. He'd get his temporary reprieve from the paparazzi and then return to La La Land and being worshipped by millions. I'd fight Henry in court and try to move through the bleakness of my immediate future. The fact we were physically in the same place did not mean we existed in the same world. He was an anecdote to tell my grandchildren someday when I could think of him without my heart aching and I was just some girl he used to know.
"Are you going to ignore me all night?" he asked.
Ignore him? What did he expect? He ignored me when I was pregnant with his child.
I guess he was used to shallow people who could pretend to like someone they hated. My problem was, I didn't hate him. I wanted to, but it was never a sentiment I could muster where he was concerned. Anger would feel better than soul crushing agony, though. I might not be able to hate him, but I could work up quite a rage against him.
"Why didn't you wait for me?" he whispered.
"I got married four years after you left. How long was I supposed to wait?"
His brow furrowed. "I wasn't gone a whole month before you were with someone else. Maybe you didn't marry him right away, but you didn't waste time moving on."
"I have no idea what you are talking about. I didn't even go on a single date for almost a year, and even then, it was only because Dee would force me to go out. Nothing serious for years. I'm ashamed to say that I did wait for you, but I had to admit you weren't coming back for me."
He cocked his head to the side. "I saw pictures a month after I left of you with another guy."
I crossed my arms across my chest. "Is that why you—"
The words wouldn't come. I wanted to ask if that was why he told me to get rid of our baby, but some things I was too cowardly to ask. And part of me didn't want to know. Not like it mattered at this point in my life. I survived the loss of him and our child, the reasons he stayed gone no longer mattered.
"Is that why I what?" he pressed.
I turned away from him. He didn't get to read me the way he used to. "Let's just forget it. We were both too young to make the promises we did. There's no point rehashing the past."
He clasped his hand on my shoulder and forced me to turn back around and face him. "Does that mean we can't start over?"
"What's the point?" I gestured around me. "You left all this behind. I'm not your tour guide for Memory Lane."
I moved toward the stairs, but he stopped me in the doorway. "I was coming back. I told you I was, but you couldn't wait for me. You moved on, so why are you pissed off at me?"
His words didn't make sense. He left me, and he didn't respond when I called to tell him I was pregnant.
"You didn't come back. I begged you in voicemail after voicemail. So forgive me if I don't believe you. And I can't get over you offering me money to get rid of our baby. How could we possibly start over after that?"
His hand fell from my arm, and I took the opportunity to run past him. Finally, I got to confront him, but I didn't feel better. He knocked on my door a few seconds later, but I didn't respond. What was left to say?
He didn't get to share in my grief at the time, and I wasn't going to let him into it now. You'd think that the painful memories would have lost some of their bite over the years, but I still felt the agony of loss. Somehow I managed to fall asleep despite the deep ache in my heart. Maybe tomorrow I'd wake up and he'd be gone. Then I could put this day behind me like I'd done with so many others over the past decade.
Chapter Ten
Lily
The aroma of coffee pulled me from my slumber. I stumbled out of bed and shuffled down the hall to the upstairs bathroom, bringing me face to chest with Tristan as he exited.
Droplets of water clung to his chest and ran down the grooves of his muscles toward the towel wrapped around his waist. I tried to force my eyes away from his naked flesh, but my brain was busy comparing how much he'd changed from the boy I knew.
Tristan cleared his throat, and my eyes snapped up to his. My face heated in embarrassment. He stepped aside with a knowing glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips. Before I could pass, however, his arm shot out, barring the entrance. "I'll give you time to wake up, but we are going to talk when you get out."
Now he wanted to talk? I hadn't missed the fact that he let me escape with very little effort last night. If he had wanted to force the discussion last night, there was no way I could have kept him out. My bedroom door didn't even have a lock on it.
I slammed the bathroom door shut before roughly cranking on the water faucet. As the water fell, I ripped off my clothes and stood under the tepid spray. Damn him, he'd even used most of the hot water.
The water soon turned frigid, so I raced through my cleansing routine. I was able to delay for a bit by blow drying the waves out of my long hair. Then I took extra care with my makeup; I told myself it was because I didn't want to go talk to him. No way did it have anything to do with the sculpted abs I'd ogled moments ago. I put my makeup brush down, and rolled my eyes at my reflection. Even I didn't buy that lie, but dammit, I was mad at him.
Unable to waste any more time in the bathroom, I headed to my room to dress. That would kill at least a few more minutes. What was I nervous about? I hadn't done anything wrong, but if I was honest with myself I was scared he'd say something that would make me forgive him. I already knew he still affected me, but if I lost my anger I'd be powerless against him.
I couldn't risk loving him again. I had to think of my son. Somehow I was able to leave my husband and feel stronger than I had in years. I wasn't broken. That was a feeling I knew well, because when I lost Tristan it took years to piece myself back together. Resolved to hold onto my anger, I went down to the kitchen.
Tristan stood at the stove flipping pancakes. I had a movie star making me breakfast, and I couldn't enjoy it. Of course, to me he'd always be the boy who used to pull my ponytail and shield me from scary movies.
He cleared his throat and gestured between us with the spatula. "There's still something here between us."
"You're partially right. There's a lot in between there ever being an us again." I sat down at the place he'd set. I was proud of my statement, but for the life of me, I was confused why he'd even say that.
He turned off the stove and brought a heaping plate of pancakes to the table. We made our plates in silence. He set his fork down. "Let's clear up what you said last night, and maybe the rest will fall into place. What did you mean I offered you money to get rid of our baby?"
My face scrunched up in confusion. We hadn't seen each other in years, but surely he couldn't have forgotten. Maybe he was playing me. He was a gifted actor, or so I'd heard at least, because I'd never been able to watch one of his movies.
"What part confuses you?"
"All of it. I never knew you were pregnant, and I sure as hell didn't offer you money to get rid of a child."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "Where is it? I've met your son, and he isn't old enough to be mine."
I shook my head. "Matty isn't yours."
"I never thought I'd ask this, but what are you after, Lily?"
I'd lost my appetite and shoved my plate away. "Absolutely nothing."
He threw his hands in the air. "Everyone wants something from me."
I moved from the table. This didn't matter. The only thing I cared about was finding my mother and spending time with her. We'd lost so much time over the years while I was in Alabama, and there wasn't much left to make up for it.
Tristan would leave again and I'd be fine. Better actually, because seeing him again ruined the fantasy I'd created over the years. He wasn't the same person, and I don't think I much cared for who he'd become.
I searched the house, but couldn't find her. There was only one other place I figured she'd be. I stepped into my shoes by the back door and went outside. As I expected, she was tending to her rose garden in the backyard. My favorites were her black roses, which were actually a deep blood red, but appeared black from a distance.
She seemed content as she carefully pruned away the expired blossoms and added fertilizer to the soil. A twig snapped beneath my feet and she looked over at me with a smile. This wasn't how I wanted to remember her, frail with dark shadows under eyes that appeared too big for her face.
My mom was beautiful before cancer. Her dark hair fell to the middle of her back until chemotherapy robbed her of it. Her skin had a perpetual tan, either from her hours spent with her roses or from her Romani heritage. Her eyes were dark brown with rays of dark green, like mine, but now they seemed a bit lighter and tired.
I was watching life slowly fade away from her, even in this short amount of time, and it hurt like thousands of tiny paper cuts slowly bleeding me to death. One day she'd open her mouth and her last breath would release her to go on to whatever came next. I'd be left behind. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to leave me. It would be up to me to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other and hopefully be half the mother to my son that she'd been to me.
Maybe I should go find that Alabama ER doctor and see if he had any country wisdom for watching a parent die. Somehow I'd get through this, but Iris was right, this was going to hurt like hell.
"All done catching up with Tristan already?"
I rolled my eyes and tried to let my dark thoughts go. She was still here, and I had plenty of time to mourn her loss in the future. I needed to remind myself to live in the moment. "He's an ass."
"He's going through a tough time."
I sighed. "That's no reason to be an ass."
She wiped her dirty hands on her jeans and looked up at me. "I'm going to go clean up. Iris and I usually meet up with some other women to have coffee and gossip."
She was leaving me alone . . . with him. Maybe I should call Dee and spend the day with her and the boys.
I followed Mom inside then went to get my phone from my room. I called Dee and only waited one ring before she answered.
"Hey, I was just going to call you. Adam's parents want to take us to Seattle for the rest of the weekend. Junior wants to know if Matty can come too."
I couldn't say no just because I wanted a buffer between myself and Tristan. "Yeah, that sounds like he'll have fun. Does he want to talk to me?"
"Hold on a sec." I heard shuffling in the background. "Hey, Mom! We're going to Seattle to go to the zoo. Isn't that cool?"
"Yeah, buddy. Are you going to be okay being away from me another night?"
Matty groaned. "I'm not a baby."
"I know, sweetie. Have fun. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I will. Bye, Mom." The line went dead before I even had a chance to say goodbye myself. I guess he was better being away from me than I was from him. In truth, I wasn't sure who I was outside being Matty's mom.
Tristan appeared in the doorway to my room. "We need to finish our conversation." He wasn't going to give up. He closed the door behind him. "Don't want you to run off again."
My arms folded across my chest. "Yeah, because I'm the one that leaves."
He ignored my comment. "I want to know what you meant."
The pain from that loss cut deep. My knees buckled and folded underneath me until I was seated on the floor. Tristan took a step forward, but I held my hand up to stop his advance. I'd never get through this if he tried to comfort me the way I needed him to at the time.
"Fine. Have it your way. I'll tell you what you want to know, and then there'll be nothing left between us. I've kept this inside for too long. Telling your voicemail isn't the same thing as speaking face to face. Once this is out, there won't be anything left between us." A sad laugh bubbled out of me. "It might actually do me good."
