by Caroline Lee
Her soft smile told him she was speaking the truth and did all sorts of things to his insides. He found himself blushing. “Yeah, well, it took a lot of soul-searching and discipline. What juvie couldn’t beat into my thick head, the army did.”
They shared a smile, and Tripp wondered if she was remembering how often he’d ranted and raved against “the system.”
“What about you? What have you been up to? I assume you’re married with lots of kids by now?” He'd said the last part jokingly, but was hoping he was wrong. Because if there was any chance he might still have a shot with Alyssa, he was going to go straight to her and ask for a date after he met with his parents.
She winced, then dropped her gaze to her drink once more. “No,” she said softly. “Not married.”
“What are you doing these days?”
“I’m…” She took a deep breath, but still didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m a doula. That means I help with laboring moms. My cousin went to school to become a midwife, so I work with her, kind of like a team.”
“That’s fantastic! I’ll bet you’re really great at it too.” He smiled, genuinely meaning it. Alyssa had always been so caring and loving. He’d needed that aspect of her personality back then, and she’d so freely given it to him. “I’ll bet all of the mothers in the area are glad to have someone like you on their side.”
That’s when she glanced up at him again, her shy smile back in place. “Thanks. That means a lot. We had one mama go into labor last night, and Robyn and I were called out about three this morning.” She tapped a finger on the side of her cup. “Hence the coffee, since I’m going to need to stay up for the rest of the day.”
Looking closer now, Tripp could see the bags under her eyes. That wasn’t the only change he noticed though. There were also faint lines around her lips and at the corners of her eyes as well. Her shoulders seemed to droop more than he remembered. And while she had always been slight, now there was a softness to her he didn’t remember.
Whatever had happened during the last six and a half years, it didn’t look as if Alyssa had had an easy time. The changes he was seeing weren’t because of one sleepless night. No, she looked tired, but not temporarily. It was as if she spent her life being tired and overwhelmed.
And Tripp knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he wanted to fix it. She’d done so much for him back then, she deserved his help.
He didn’t know what was going on with her, but he wanted to be the one to make it better.
Five years ago, he would have said he’d missed his chance. He would have said he’d forfeited any right to be the kind of man she deserved.
But he’d changed. He’d changed, and he was back in Idaho to make things right. Or at least, as right as he could make them.
“Hey—” he began.
“Tripp—” she said at the same time.
They both stopped and smiled awkwardly at each other.
“You go first,” she said.
“No, you,” he insisted.
She took a deep breath, then lifted her chin. “I’m really impressed, Tripp. I never thought I would see you again, and I know your family gave up hope a long time ago. It’s really going to mean a lot to them that you’ve come back.”
He couldn’t help his proud grin. “I hope so. Last time I ran off, I said a lot of really horrible things. You know how my dad was, always comparing me to Kenneth and Coop. And Mom was just as bad, insisting I follow all her stupid rules.” He shook his head ruefully. “At least, that’s how I saw it. It’s taken six years in the army to show me how valuable those rules and control are, especially for somebody like I was, who was prone to fly off the handle.”
“Yeah, you always did have trouble controlling your anger.”
The way she said it, almost nonchalantly, bothered him a little bit. It sounded as if she’d repeated that more than once, either to herself, or to someone else.
But he couldn’t deny it. Tripp nodded. “Even juvie couldn’t teach me that. I had to grow up enough, finally figure out what I wanted in life, and work hard to get it. That’s when I realized the value of Mom’s rules.”
Alyssa smiled a little sadly. “I’m glad you understand it now.”
Tripp took a deep breath. “Honestly, I came back home to see them. Coming into town today, I think that was just my delaying tactic. I was working up enough guts to go to the house and surprise them. I’m not sure of Dad’s reaction. He might want nothing to do with me, and I deserve that. But no matter what, I know Mom will be glad to see me. She’ll give me a big hug and— What’s wrong?”
Alyssa’s face had gone pale again, her stricken expression making Tripp want to leap across the table and take her in his arms.
She didn’t respond, but her eyes were wide and horrified, her mouth open.
“Alyssa? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“You don’t know?” she whispered hoarsely. “You haven’t had any contact with your family?”
Her fear had begun to affect Tripp. He shook his head, near panic. “No! What is it?” A knot of dread settled in his stomach.
“Tripp, right before Easter, your mother...your mother died.”
CHAPTER THREE
Tripp went white.
Slowly, he shook his head back and forth, as if unable to believe the news. Alyssa’s heart ached for him, and she forced herself to nod. It took all of her strength not to reach across the table and take his hand, offering him support. But what they’d once shared had been so long ago, she wasn’t sure if he’d accept her comfort now.
But it was obvious he needed it.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hating she had to hurt him like this.
Tripp just stared at her, as if in shock. Finally, he asked, “What happened?” in a hoarse whisper.
“Cancer. She had cancer for a really long time, a couple of different types. As I understand it, it moved into her brain last year.” This was horrible, but he needed to know. “It wasn’t pretty, Tripp. She wasn’t herself for a long time.”
His hands were flat on the table, one on either side of his untouched milkshake. As she watched, his hands clenched into fists, and she remembered the angry young man he used to be.
The angry young man she’d lost her heart to.
“How do you know?” he asked again in that same hoarse whisper.
She winced, not sure if she was about to hurt him even further. “My sister Katie married your brother Kenneth.”
Even the mention of his least-favorite sibling didn’t seem to distract him from his shock. No, he just sat there, staring across the table at her, but she was sure she wasn’t the one he was seeing.
Behind those beautiful ice-blue eyes—the same Weston eyes he’d passed down to his son—she could see Tripp’s mind whirling. The man she used to know would have exploded by now, ranting or pacing or rushing off to do something stupid. But this Tripp, he just sat there, breathing deeply, while his mind worked.
What had changed? Was it really just the discipline of the army? The same discipline which had given him wider shoulders, well-defined muscles, and a stronger jaw? There was no doubt about it, Tripp was even more handsome than he’d been seven years ago, and she’d thought him the most handsome man in the world then.
But if somewhere along the road he’d learned to control his anger, then that made him infinitely more attractive.
Finally, he whispered, “I have to…”
When he trailed off, she understood. “Come on, I’ll drive you,” she said, grabbing her purse and leaving her coffee untouched. After the way the morning had turned out, she didn’t need a jolt of caffeine after all.
He shook his head, still white-faced. “I couldn’t ask you…”
“My car is literally parked out front. You don’t need to be driving at a time like this, so just come on.”
He stopped arguing and followed her blindly out to her car. On the way to his parents’ house, she kept glancing over at him, worried.
&
nbsp; He’d changed so much, and had been so proud of everything he’d accomplished. His parents would be proud too, proud to know they’d been right about him all along. He’d come back to Idaho to prove to them he was a good man, and she’d seen the look of excitement in his eyes when he talked about seeing them again.
But to be told he missed his mother’s death? That must have torn him up inside.
And she had been the one to do it.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered again as they drove, but when he didn’t respond, she wondered if he could even hear her.
Turning around and seeing him and her favorite coffee shop had been...like a kick to the chest. She’d forgotten how to breathe. He looked so different, but his eyes were still the same, and she was sure she’d recognize him anywhere.
They’d known one another in high school before he’d been sent off to juvenile detention. After he got out and was back home, they’d reconnected. Both of them wanted to keep their relationship a secret: him, because he was angry at the world and didn’t want his family in his business, and her, because she knew her family wouldn’t approve of him after his stint in juvie.
But being with Tripp had made her feel so alive. In the years since then, when she felt like a living zombie because of lack of sleep, or stress, or worry over Jeremiah, she remembered the way she’d felt with Tripp. The way he’d made each day an adventure, and how he lived each moment to the fullest.
She loved him for that, and for a million other reasons, but knew he would never last in a place like Quinn Valley.
Still, maybe she’d hoped to reform him. Maybe that was why she’d given into her body’s urging and slept with him. It had been wonderful, and their lives had seemed ideal, at least, it had up until that last big fight with his parents. The same fight which had caused him to leave Idaho forever.
No, not forever. She and everyone else had been wrong. He’d come back, and had come back a changed and better man.
And she’d just broken his heart.
Now was definitely not the time to tell him about Jeremiah.
She pulled up in front of his parents’ house, remembering all the times they’d secretly met here or nearby, then turned to him.
Tripp was staring straight ahead, his fists resting on his thighs as he breathed deeply. He didn’t look calm—in fact, he looked like a tightly coiled animal—but he wasn’t reacting the way he used to either. The old Tripp hadn’t been violent, although he’d gotten into his share of fights at school and at bars. But when he’d gotten angry, he would pace and rant explosively.
But this man? He wasn’t the same.
Tentatively, she reached out and covered one of his fists with her hand. It was the first time she’d touched him in almost seven years, and he jerked in response.
Blinking, he turned to her, as if he’d forgotten she was there. He was still breathing deeply, and she couldn’t place the expression on his face.
His hand twisted under hers, until their fingers were entwined. Just like the old days.
“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “Thank you for being here with me. For me.”
She remembered what he said in the coffee shop about her being caring, and she knew it was the truth. That’s why she’d chosen her profession, and that’s why even now, she couldn’t stand the thought of him in pain.
But there was nothing she could say except, “I’m sorry,” once again.
He nodded jerkily, released her hand, and slipped out of the car.
Tripp stood on the doorstep of his parents’ house, staring at the front door. He’d stood here once before, almost seven years ago, having just slammed the door in his parents’ face. On that day, he’d told them he would never see them again, and they were dead to him.
So much had changed, but not in time.
It was almost impossible to believe Mom was gone. He’d spent years working towards this moment, towards the moment he would show his parents who he’d become, and know they’d be proud of him. But now...now Mom would never know that.
He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes, and knew he needed to knock. But he hadn’t heard Alyssa drive away yet either. He resisted the urge to turn around, knowing if he saw that tender look in her eyes again, he’d be lost. He’d jump right back in that car and ask her to hold his hand again. Her touch had reminded him of so much; the taste of her, the feel of her in his arms. And as appealing as those memories were, he couldn’t be distracted right now. He was here for a reason.
He needed to do this. He was a grown man and couldn’t rely on her calming influence the way he used to.
I don’t need to anymore.
Before he could change his mind, Tripp reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Immediately, his heart started pounding in overtime, and he felt his limbs go weak as his blood rushed towards his center. In the space of seconds, he came up with five different escape routes and excuses to leave, to run and not look back.
It was the same reaction he’d always experienced when he’d been called in to defuse an IED or roadside bomb. But just like in Afghanistan, he knew he had a job to do here, and it wasn’t just his future in the balance. And just like then, he wasn’t going to back down.
He took a deep breath just as he heard the lock turning. Then the door opened, and his father stood there.
Dad looked older, obviously. But just like Alyssa, there were changes to him not due to age. He was gaunter, and if Mom really had been sick for so long, Tripp imagined her care had been quite a burden.
Dad’s Weston ice-blue eyes peered at him and a frown touched his lips, as if he was trying to place him. Tripp knew he looked different now, but had he really changed so much?
He saw the moment his dad finally realized who he was. The older man’s eyes went wide, and he sucked in a breath.
“Hi, Dad.”
His father made a choking noise, then began to slip to his knees, as if his legs had given out. Tripp leaped forward, grabbing his father under the arms and slowing his descent. They both ended up on the floor in the front foyer, the door open to the world, as he held his father in his arms and hardly dared to breathe.
Dad’s hand trembled as he lifted his fingertips to Tripp’s cheek. “Wil?” he whispered hoarsely. “My boy? It’s you?”
His father might not have forgiven him, but he hadn’t forgotten him either. The tears, which had been threatening to appear, finally sprung to Tripp’s eyes.
“Yeah, Dad, it’s me,” he forced out through a tight throat. “I’ve come home.”
His father was silently crying now, as his eyes and fingertips caressed Tripp’s face. “You’ve changed,” he choked out. “Your mother would—”
When his father’s voice caught on a sob, Tripp grabbed the older man’s hand. “I know, Dad. I just found out this morning.”
They were both openly crying now, and Tripp was alarmed by how much of his father’s weight rested on him. Dad had always been so strong, so firm. And to Tripp, seven years hadn’t seemed so long, until now. A lifetime had passed, and his mom was gone. Forever.
“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry— I missed her.”
“Wil!” Dad choked out again.
Tripp had been named after his dad—as the third Wilfred Weston, he’d always gone by Tripp—and Dad had been the only person to call him “Wil.” In that moment, Tripp knew that’s who he wanted to be.
“Wil, my boy, you came back!”
It was all his father seemed able to say, and Tripp realized it was up to him to make the next move. He pulled himself to his feet, then lifted his father and shut the front door. They made their way to the kitchen, where Tripp settled his father at the table and started a pot of coffee.
Everything had changed so much in the house, and the kitchen cabinets were arranged totally differently from the way he remembered, but the coffee pot was still in its usual place of honor.
Tripp figured the soothing warmth of t
he drink would do them both good.
When he finally turned back to his dad, the older man was wiping at his eyes with a handkerchief, before taking a deep breath and turning his attention back to his son.
“You came back.” He gave a weak smile. “Your mother never stopped believing you would, you know. Even when the rest of us assumed—”
Tripp cleared his throat, knowing he couldn’t afford to break down again. “I probably don’t need to ask, but what did you assume?”
“The way you stormed out of here, and the things you said, and the way you were back then…” Dad shook his head. “We assumed you were in jail somewhere, or dead. Kenneth paid somebody to look up prison databases, but they never found your name among them. Your sister bakes a cake every year on your birthday.”
Tripp felt his throat close up again. “You...you mourned me?”
Dad shook his head. “Not your mother. She always knew you were out there, and you’d be back someday.”
Tripp collapsed in the chair across from his father. “But not in time.”
They sat in silence, while behind Tripp, the steady drip drip drip told them the coffee was almost ready.
Finally, Dad took a deep breath. “She’s up there right now, you know. Happy and healthy, without all this dang cancer that’s made our lives miserable for so long. And she’s laughing at me, at all of us, who ever doubted her when she said you’d be back.” Dad’s voice cracked. “And she loves you now just as much as she did then.”
Tripp thought he’d cried all the tears he had, but apparently not. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Dad swallowed and nodded, then looked out the window as if to regain his composure. Tripp made himself busy pouring the coffee for both of them. Black. It was one thing they still shared.
Dad nodded his thanks when Tripp brought him a mug of coffee. “So…” The older man cleared his throat. “What have you been up to? Not jail, apparently.”
This is what Tripp had been looking forward to for so long. Explaining what he’d done, and how he’d done it. But now? Now, bragging was the last thing on his mind.
