“Hasn’t it only been a few days since you last did it?”
“Yeah, but it’s the only place I can go without you yapping at me.” He kissed her cheek. “I appreciate you caring—really, I do. But I’m good. Getting better every day.”
“Then prove it by for once, shaving, then putting on a pair of khakis and a nice shirt. Since I already bought a gift for Cayden, you can just add your name to my box. Not that I was invited, but I thought you might be.”
Laughing, he said, “You’ve covered all your bases...”
“Which reminds me—rumor has it you also volunteered to help little Cayden with his hitting. Want to tell me about that?”
Tristan winced. “Nope.”
His cell rang. Andrea. Was Jack okay?
“Who is it?” his mom asked.
Already on the way to the screened back porch, he told her before answering, hating the pain in his stomach that always accompanied just hearing his ex’s voice.
“Hey,” he answered, arms crossed, leaning against a wood column. “Everything all right with Jack?”
“Great.” Though the reception was crap, her tone struck him as breezy. As if she hadn’t a care in the world. Why did she get to be happy, yet he’d basically lost everything? “Only we’re on a day cruise, and I guess being on the water reminded Jack of his dad. He wants to talk to you.”
“Cool.” Tristan’s heart soared. His biggest fear wasn’t dying in a third-world country, but having his own son forget him. The fact that Jack remembered the times he and Tristan had spent on the water meant a lot.
“Dad?”
Tristan’s eyes welled and he wasn’t sure he could speak past the knot in his throat. “Hey, buddy! Hear you’re spending a day in my favorite place.”
“We’re on the Pacific and this boat is pretty big, but not even kinda the size of the ships you took me on. It doesn’t have awesome guns, either.”
Tristan laughed through silent tears. “Did you at least bring your own weapon in case pirates attack?”
“I have my best squirt pistol, but Mom said I couldn’t wear my battle helmet because I might not see good enough and fall off the boat.”
“That makes sense.” Wiping his cheeks with his wrist, Tristan laughed and nodded, picturing his son on the bow, fending off imaginary invaders.
“Well, I gotta go. Peter bought me food to feed the seagulls.”
“Be careful,” Tristan said, resenting the hell out of Andrea’s new husband for assuming his role. Although with Tristan having been gone three-quarters of the last year they’d been married, how much of an active part in Jack’s life had he really played? “They’ve got sharp beaks.”
Jack laughed. “I will, Dad! Love you!”
“Love you, too, bud.” Though his son had broken the connection, Tristan held his cell like a life raft, with the backs of his hands he took another swipe at his eyes.
“You okay?” His mom stepped up behind him, placing her comforting hand between his shoulder blades.
Though he was anything but okay, for her sake, he nodded. “I’m good. Sounds like he’s gonna have a great day.”
“How about you?”
“What do you mean?” Still unable to face anyone, he stared out at the lush backyard, focusing on the sweet-smelling honeysuckle winding up his mom’s pagoda. The quick-growing plant already needed a trim.
“I mean, are you going to Cayden’s party? Or you gonna sit around here and mope?”
“Mom,” he managed, aching to his core. “I know you have the best intentions, but please stay out of this.”
“But—”
Busting open the screen door with the heel of his hand, he strode across the backyard, intent on taking a run. Didn’t matter that he only wore leather flip-flops. What mattered was running as fast and far as possible from his problems—which now happened to include his well-meaning, yet nonetheless interfering, mom.
* * *
SINCE CAYDEN’S DAD HAD BEEN gone, and he didn’t make the baseball team, Cayden hadn’t been sure he’d ever be happy again. But then Mr. Tristan built his pirate ship fort and now all his friends were over and brought presents and his mom made a cake and his face hurt from smiling. And there were a really whole lot of presents!
“Having fun?” his mom asked when he was looking at the gift table.
“Uh-huh! When can I open stuff?”
She laughed, which made him even happier. “Pretty soon. First, we all need to sing to you and let you blow out the candles on your cake.”
“Okay. Is Mr. Tristan here? I want him to play pirate!”
“I haven’t seen him.” She looked around. “But maybe he’ll be here soon?”
“Hope so! He’s cool!”
Cayden went back to his fort, where his friend Dominic hung upside down while eating grape Laffy Taffy. “Well? Is Coach Tristan coming?”
“Maybe.” Cayden not only told all his friends the cool SEAL would be there, but Dominic said his mom told him that Tristan was gonna help Cayden with his hitting. Cayden hoped since it was his birthday, Tristan was just waiting to tell him about it at the party.
The longer the party was, the more Cayden worried Tristan wasn’t gonna come. Everyone he knew on the whole planet was there—except for his dad and old friends back in St. Louis. Even Coach Jason and his wife and their bad little kid were in the backyard.
For a few minutes, while blowing out his candles and opening presents, Cayden forgot about his new grown-up friend, but it was weird, no matter how many great toys he got, he still felt kinda sad about not seeing Tristan.
* * *
“YOU WERE KIND TO INVITE an old geezer like me to your son’s big day.” Georgia helped herself to seconds of Cayden’s chocolate, pirate-themed cake.
“Stop,” Brynn said from the lawn chair she was embarrassingly trapped in. “You get around far better than I do. Pretty sure I’m stuck.”
In a flash, Georgia was up and had Brynn’s hands, tugging her to her feet.
“Thanks.” Laughing, Brynn was surprised by the easy camaraderie she felt with the neighbor she’d avoided for so long. Yet in the same respect, the snippets of happiness she stole like this were what stood to hurt the most should her world once again fall apart.
Georgia had already returned her focus to cake. “Kindly don’t sit again until I’m done.”
“I won’t,” Brynn promised.
“Is that Tristan?”
Was it wrong that just hearing his name caused Brynn’s heart to skip a beat? Striving for a casual tone, she asked, “Where?”
“He’s gone now, but I swear I just saw him pulling one of your old tricks and ducking behind my hedge.” With a put-out sigh, she dropped her paper cake plate back to the picnic table. “At this rate, I’ll never satisfy my sweet tooth.”
Though the party was in full swing around her, classic Beach Boys playing on the ancient stereo she’d hauled outside, and practically every soul she’d met since moving to Ruin Bayou milling about her backyard, Brynn’s gaze—her very breath—felt centered around the sight of Georgia tugging a sheepish-looking Tristan from behind her overgrown forsythia.
Chapter Five
“Ouch.” Nothing served as more of a reminder that Tristan had lost his SEAL’s edge than being yanked by his ear out from under defensive cover by a woman old enough to be his great-grandmother.
“Don’t you ‘ouch’ me, young man. I’m still miffed at you from when you stole bubble gum from our drugstore.”
“Mrs. Booth, I was eight, and not only did I return it, but I wrote you a formal apology.”
She snorted. “Kids today, think you can get away with anything. Now, why are you snooping on Brynn’s party? Weren’t you invited?”
“Sure, I was invited, I jus
t—”
“Don’t want to get too close to Cayden because he reminds you of Jack?”
Having been raised on the ideal that if he didn’t have anything nice to say then he shouldn’t say anything at all, Tristan clamped his mouth tight. Damn this busybody town. Why hadn’t he taken leave in Miami or Vegas?
“Go ahead and be mad at me.” Georgia was back to tugging, only this time she’d grabbed hold of his arm and was pulling him toward the party. “But when you get to my age, I don’t much care who thinks what and I call things like I see ’em. Ask me, you and Brynn and Cayden would make a nice family. She’s gonna need a man around, what with her new baby on the way.”
On that nutty note, Tristan had lost all patience. “Not only am I not in the market for a new wife, I’m still not over my old one.” Their official split may have been three years ago, but for him, it hadn’t seemed real until Andrea’s unexpected wedding and sudden move. “Pretty sure Brynn feels the same.”
“Snippy, huh?” Instead of looking properly chastised, Georgia grinned. “Only proves my point.”
Thankfully, Brynn’s mouthy neighbor returned to her chair and cake.
Though he knew everyone in Brynn’s yard, Tristan felt like an outsider. He had nothing in common with these people anymore. When he’d come home with Andrea and Jack in tow, his life had been in sync with his friends’. He and Jason talked fishing or sports while their wives dissed them on everything from leaving clothes on the floor to drinking milk from the carton. Jason’s wife, Trina, had been pregnant with their son Nathan during Tristan and Andrea’s last trip to town. Trina had been so happy in her pregnancy, she glowed. It’d brought back good memories of Andrea carrying Jack.
Eyeing very pregnant Brynn, Tristan wasn’t sure what to think. It went without saying, she was off-the-charts adorable—not that her looks mattered.
When she glanced up, almost as if having felt his stare, he died even more than when Georgia had caught him behind her bushes. “Hi,” she said, sounding so much from the north.
Everyone he knew from down south said hey. Not that it mattered. Just a thought to further put off the embarrassment of talking to her now that he’d been busted spying on her son’s big day.
“Cayden hoped you’d come.” She ducked her gaze. “Me, too. Can I get you some cake?”
Mouth dry, he nodded. “Sounds good. And sorry about that.” He gestured toward Georgia’s yard. “Truth be told, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come. Nothing personal, you understand, just...” He stopped short of admitting how painful it was, being in the presence of boys nearly the same age as his son.
“I get it.” When she curved her slight fingers to his forearm, the warmth and comfort stemming from her simple touch felt akin to sipping his mother’s honeyed tea when battling a cold. Casting a shy smile, she shocked him by admitting, “I’ve done the same.”
While he tried and failed in coming up with a witty reply, she cut him a generous corner piece of her son’s cake. In passing the plate, their hands brushed. He wanted to ignore the faint rush of awareness—as if he were back in junior high and passing notes with the hottie sitting in front of him in English—but despite his best efforts, even after the fleeting moment passed, the sensation had not.
“Good to see you, man.” Jason delivered a light smack to his shoulder. After general small talk about high school kids having spray painted their school mascot on Polk Bayou bridge, and Trina pulling Brynn aside to discuss her potato salad recipe, Jason asked, “Vivian told me you want to privately coach Cayden. That true?”
“I s’pose.” Tristan tossed his plate and fork in a nearby trash can. He knew now he should never have made the offer. Being around Cayden might be good for the boy, but it would bring nothing but added pain for himself. “Though since his mom seems against it, I’ll probably steer clear of the whole situation.”
“Not so fast.” Jason downed the rest of his punch. “Your offer got me to thinking. Little Cayden was pretty torn up about not making the team, and Oliver Crouch’s mom called last night to tell me they’re probably moving. Since you already agreed to be my assistant coach, what do you think of going ahead and letting Cayden join his friends? Assuming you’ll get him up to speed.”
Tristan tipped his gaze to the sun, covering his face with his hands. The day he’d made that offer, Vivian had been a full-on bitch to Brynn. It hadn’t been right, and his suggestion to help had shut her up. He couldn’t have said then why he’d done it, meaning he sure as hell didn’t know now. All he did know was that he felt backed into a corner on the whole issue and didn’t like it. On his own with Brynn, when they’d stood side by side at her clothesline, and warm sun beat down on them and the smell of those fresh-washed clothes brought on sentimental longings for his more simple, younger years, he’d made that speech to her about everything being easier with a team. But after the painful call with his son, for his own self-preservation, he needed to retreat. “For the record, I never said I’d be your assistant coach.”
His old friend grinned. “Pretty sure you did.”
Tristan sighed. “Look, I need to start thinking about getting back to the base. I’m out of shape and—”
Jason whistled loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Someone mind temporarily killing the music?”
One of the older kids obliged.
“Seeing as this is Cayden’s birthday, my friend Tristan and I have cooked up a little surprise.”
“Jason...” Tristan said under his breath. “I never agreed to squat.”
“What is it, Coach? Hi, Tristan!” Cayden stood in front of them.
For Tristan, the kid’s huge grin and jumping brought on a wicked case of indigestion.
“Not sure if you knew this,” Jason said to the boy, “but your dad and I were good friends. He was the greatest ball player to ever come out of this town—heck, the whole state. Because of that, I’m betting somewhere inside you is just as great a hitter. You only need a little extra practice to coax him out.”
Cayden cocked his head. “What’s that mean?”
His mom stood behind him, her hands on his slight shoulders. “Jason...”
“All that means,” the coach said, “is that Tristan is going to teach you a few things about the game, and I’m inviting you to play with the Mud Bugs.”
“But I wasn’t good enough to make the team.”
Ruffling his hair, Jason said, “When we had tryouts, I could tell you were having an off day. With Tristan’s help, in a couple weeks, you’ll be hitting with the best of us. Right, guys?”
Team members and friends had gathered around the birthday boy. Taking Jason’s lead, they all encouraged him and welcomed him to the team.
Only for Tristan to hear, Brynn said, “As much as I appreciate what you and Jason are doing, my son doesn’t need charity. What if after all this hoopla, he still isn’t good enough to keep up with the rest of the team? How’s his heart going to bear once again losing, when he’s already lost so much?”
“Can’t tell you,” Tristan admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t like Brynn’s assumption that she or her son would come out losers in any situation. Which was no doubt why he surprised even himself by admitting, “But if this were my son? I’d at least want to take the chance. What if Cayden does improve? What if he not only gets to spend the summer hanging out with his friends, but feels more connected with his dad through their shared love of the game?”
Turning introspective, she averted her gaze. “I didn’t know you had a son. And I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
Neither had he. But it was true.
As much as Tristan hated the thought of another man raising his son, he also knew in his heart Peter was doing right by Jack. Andrea and Tristan would always have their issues, but in large part due to Peter, their negativity had had little impac
t on their son.
What would Mack think about Tristan helping Cayden?
Back in school, Mack, Jason and Tristan had been tight. After high school, they’d gone their separate ways—no one more so than the pro ballplayer, but they’d all been raised on the core belief that your friends were friends for life. If Mack or Jason had needed him, Tristan would always be there. So why, when Mack had been in way over his head, hadn’t he reached for friends’ helping hands?
Tristan found himself needing to ask, “Did Mack ever show signs of being in trouble?”
She shook her head. “The day of his shooting, we were at the kitchen bar, deciding when to tell Cayden he’d be getting a baby brother or sister. Our life together was so blessed—like living in a wonderful dream—that when he was gone, part of me had a hard time even comprehending Mack died.”
Music once again played, and without much else going on for a warm Saturday twilight, while their children darted amongst Spanish moss and lightning bugs, adults shared stories and laughs around dancing citronella candles.
“This party,” she continued, “is the most connected I’ve felt to our old life in a while. This is how things used to be. We were always surrounded by friends. But once the scandal broke, so did those bonds. Cayden and I were treated like pariahs for things we hadn’t even known about, let alone participated in. That’s why I’ve been so hesitant about making new friends here. Who’s to say they won’t all leave, as well?”
Tristan felt compelled to lighten the mood. “Well, first, as you could probably tell, us Louisianans love nothing more than eating—especially when the food’s free.”
She cracked a smile. “I have noticed every event down here is accompanied by a meal.”
He nodded. “And second, we have a way of attaching and sticking around—kind of like a tick, only with far better manners and no chance of fever.”
Laughing, she said, “Not sure if that makes me feel much better, but thanks for trying.”
“Anytime.” Her laugh was contagious and suddenly all he wanted to do was shake off the gloom that’d settled over him ever since Andrea and Jack’s move. For the first time in he couldn’t remember when, he was tired of moping and wanted to enjoy the beautiful night with an equally beautiful woman.
The SEAL's Valentine (Operation: Family) Page 5