by Caroline Lee
There are some really wonderful parts of parenting...and then there’s the vomit.
The next several minutes were high energy, as Alyssa rushed around, cleaning up Jeremiah, the floor, and eventually Tripp himself. He’d pulled off his t-shirt to rinse out in the utility sink, and although Alyssa was in Mommy-mode, she’d taken a moment to admire how fine he looked without a shirt, before hurrying back to the living room with more Lysol.
Through it all, Tripp was level-headed and calm, pouring all of his attention into comforting Jeremiah. Alyssa kept shooing her mother away, terrified whatever Jeremiah had would spread to her parents and ruin their holiday as well.
Eventually, Alyssa got Jeremiah tucked into bed. The fact he wasn’t protesting about missing his birthday celebration at all told Alyssa he was as sick as she’d feared.
Tripp was right there beside him. “I’m sorry you have to stay home, Jer.”
“I’m angry,” she heard her son’s whispered confession.
“I understand,” Tripp assured the boy. “I’m angry for you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you dirty.”
Tripp’s expression melted as he brushed Jer’s brown hair out of his eyes. “Oh, buddy, I’m not mad at you, I’m mad for you. I’m disappointed you don’t get to go to your party, but we’ll make up for it.”
“Sorry,” Jeremiah repeated, his eyes already closed.
His father leaned down and brushed a kiss against the boy’s forehead. “You’re worth all the trouble in the world, Jer. I love you.”
The boy’s “I love you too” was faint, but both his parents heard it.
As Tripp went to get changed in the guest bathroom into a spare set of her dad’s exercise shorts and t-shirt, Alyssa headed for her room to wash up. She heard mom apologizing profusely for Tripp’s inconvenience, while he assured her it was okay.
As she scrubbed, Alyssa took a few minutes to breathe and center herself. What had just happened had really been terrible. But through it all, Tripp hadn’t expressed irritation or disappointment. No, instead, he’d been as steady as a rock, taking everything with a level head and not letting Jeremiah see there was anything to be concerned about.
She shook her head with a rueful smile. He’d changed so much in the last seven years. The Tripp of long ago might have had a big heart and an open mind, but he wouldn’t have been able to manage a parenting crisis like they’d just experienced.
She emerged to find her parents debating their plans for the day. Alyssa added her support to her father’s arguments.
“Just go!” she urged her mom. “Make sure you wash your hands really well though, and it might be a good idea to change your clothes too.”
“Go?” Mom asked incredulously. “And leave you here alone with Jeremiah?”
Alyssa barely managed to refrain from rolling her eyes. “Mom, I’ve handled worse before. Just go and have fun. Tell everybody we’ll miss them, and we’ll have a makeup party sometime when he’s feeling better. Maybe we could pair up with Grandma on another day.”
“Listen to her, Libby,” Dad urged stoically. “You’ve been looking forward to this, and Alyssa can handle it. It’s just a little vomit.”
“Just a little—?” Mom repeated incredulously. “It’s Jeremiah’s birthday! I can’t leave her here alone with him!”
Alyssa hadn’t figured out how to respond to that, but it turned out she didn’t need to.
“She won’t be alone,” came Tripp’s deep voice from behind her, as he slipped an arm around her waist. “Besides, Jer will probably sleep for most of the day, right?”
At Alyssa’s nod, he shrugged towards her mom. “So we’ll just hang out and watch movies or something, and keep an eye on the little guy.”
Mom was gaping at Tripp in irritation.
“Him? You’re okay with your boyfriend staying to help take care of your sick baby, but not your own mother?”
Alyssa felt Tripp bristle, and she knew she should warn him not to say anything too blunt. On the other hand, maybe blunt is what they needed right now.
So she just smiled slightly when Tripp said, “No, ma’am. She’s okay with Jeremiah’s father staying to help take care of him.”
Alyssa was fairly certain she could’ve heard a pin drop. Mom’s eyes went round, and she opened her mouth, glancing incredulously between the two of them. Finally, she took a deep breath. “You mean…”
She couldn’t finish her sentence, and Alyssa wondered what she was thinking. Was she pleased the secret was finally out in the open? Disappointed in Alyssa’s choices? Alyssa lifted her chin, knowing she could take whatever her parents’ opinion was, as long as Tripp was at her side.
But it was Dad who surprised her. He stepped up beside Mom and wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders in a weird mirror of the younger couple. His eyes narrowed as he looked Tripp up and down, his gaze lingering on the ice-blue Weston eyes Tripp had given to his son.
Finally, Dad grunted and nodded once. Holding out his hand, he said simply, “Welcome back, son.”
Tripp didn’t miss a moment. “Thank you, sir,” he said respectfully as he took her dad’s hand. “It took me long enough to get my act together, but now that I’m here, and now that I know about Jeremiah, I’m not going to let anyone push me away from where I belong.”
The last was said with a nod towards Mom, who raised her fingertips to her lips, as if to stifle a little sob. “Oh, Alyssa,” she whispered. “All this time!”
Then, to Alyssa’s surprise, Mom shook off Dad’s arm and stepped towards the younger couple. She enveloped them both in a hug. “Welcome to the family, Tripp,” she whispered.
All in all, it was an emotional few minutes. After so many years of keeping her secret, Alyssa was frankly surprised at how anti-climatic the big reveal had been. But then again, one thing she’d learned over the last six years was that life itself could be anti-climatic. When you became a parent, joy meant taking pride in the small successes, and knowing not every important moment was accompanied by fireworks.
Still, when her parents finally left, and she collapsed beside Tripp on the couch, they were both grinning. She felt wrung out, which was nothing new, but liked the way he chuckled as he threw his arm around her.
“Hey, happy anniversary of becoming a mother. I’m sorry I haven’t been here with you the whole time.”
She hummed. “I’m sorry I didn’t track you down and tell you I was pregnant.” Blowing out a breath, she admitted the truth. “I thought it might be easier alone.”
When he winced, she knew he understood what she was saying, and felt badly about it. Still, she offered him a small smile. “But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Besides, we both had some growing up to do.”
“You’re right. Still, this is a heck of a birthday party. Poor little guy.”
“I know,” she said with a yawn. “He was really looking forward to celebrating with you.”
“That’s flattering. But I know how important birthdays are at his age, and it’s such a shame he’s going to miss out.”
She tilted her head back against his arm and closed her eyes. “I don’t know. Grandma’s birthday is in a few weeks, so maybe we can just have her over to celebrate then.”
“Yeah, but no fireworks.”
He sounded so pitiful, she had to smile. “Not everything in life involves fireworks, you know,” she said with her eyes still closed.
“All the best stuff does,” he argued petulantly.
Eyes still closed, she shrugged under his arm. “I don’t know. This is pretty great, and there’s no fireworks.”
“Oh, yeah?”
With a suddenness which stunned her, Tripp withdrew his arm from around her shoulders, grabbed her face, pulled her towards him, and kissed her deeply. Her eyes flew open, only to stare into his own eyes, and her heart was pounding heavily by the time he released her.
His lips only inches from hers, Tripp smiled and whispered, “See? Fi
reworks.”
She had to concede the point.
“I love you, Tripp.”
He grinned. “Good, because I love you, too.”
“But with whatever Jeremiah has, maybe we shouldn’t be too free about sharing germs.”
He just snorted in dismissal and relaxed again against the back of the couch. “Being in love is all about sharing germs, Lyssa.”
“I can’t decide if that’s the most romantic, or the grossest thing I’ve ever heard.” Then, her eyes widened. “Wait a minute, you didn’t just say that so you could make a bad joke about Jeremiah’s nickname being Jerm, did you?”
“What other kind of Jerm would I want to share?” he asked innocently.
She groaned and elbowed him in the middle, to which he replied with a theatrical oof, before capturing her hand and twining his fingers through hers.
He brought her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her fingers. “I mean it though. I love you both, Lyssa, and I want to be a part of your lives. Just like I told your parents, I’m not going anywhere.”
Worriedly, she searched his expression. He might say such sweet things now, but would he still feel that way in a year? Five years?
On the other hand, the man had just handled being puked on by a little kid, and had done it calmly and maturely. And loving him, even after so long, meant she trusted him to know his own mind. Trusted him to tell her the truth.
“Are you sure?” she whispered, watching his expression. “This is what parenting is, Tripp. Puke and germs and super-quick showers and wearing borrowed clothes and exhaustion.” One corner of her lips pulled up wryly. “So much exhaustion.”
But he was nodding along. “Yeah,” he said softly. “But it’s more than that.”
He was right, but she kept her lips pressed together to hear what he had to say.
He reached for her other hand. “It’s all those things, Lyssa,” he said softly, “but it’s also saying I love you and holding hands and sharing kisses.” He swallowed. “And helping one another. Being there for each other, so you don’t have to do it alone. Parenting is teamwork, Lyssa. And more than anything in the world, I want to be on your team.”
She felt tears gathering in her eyes. Forget what she’d thought earlier; this was the sweetest, corniest thing she’d ever heard.
“I love you, Tripp. Jeremiah and I would be beyond lucky to have you on our team.”
When his smile bloomed, he looked so much like the boy she’d fallen in love with all those years ago, Alyssa felt her heart constrict.
“Well then, I guess we have some decisions to make, huh?”
She groaned theatrically and dropped her head to his shoulder. “Do we have to? Can’t we just enjoy the peace and quiet for a few minutes?”
When he shrugged, the motion re-positioned her, but she was so comfortable, she didn’t care.
“Alright,” he whispered, then dropped a kiss to the top of her head. “But this conversation isn’t over.”
She smiled and snuggled closer to him. “I love you.”
“One day,” he said softly against her hair, “I’ll come up with the words to express how much I love you in return. Thank you for giving me back my life, Lyssa.”
No wait, that was the most wonderful thing anyone had ever said to her.
Alyssa smiled sleepily against his shirt and decided, as soon as she woke up, she’d tell him that.
EPILOGUE
“Happy birthday to yooooouuuu!”
As soon as the last note died away, Tripp smiled as he watched Alyssa hold up her hands in warning to the gathered crowd.
“Remember what I told you, everyone. Jer doesn’t want anyone attacking him.”
Dad looked a little confused, but the rest of the Westons just grinned and nodded. Kenneth must’ve explained the McIvers’ quirky birthday traditions to the rest of them, although Tripp didn’t think he’d ever seen his stoic brother-in-law Mack really smile before.
“Aw, man!” Dusty groaned theatrically, pulling a can of whipped cream out from behind his back. “And I came prepared this time.”
When he tossed it on the counter, the hollow noise it made told the gathered adults it was mostly empty, and he’d just been holding it for show. But from the way Jeremiah chortled gleefully, he must’ve believed it and thought he’d pulled one over on his uncle.
Well, they ain’t seen nothing yet.
“Ready, buddy?” Tripp nodded down at Jeremiah.
The little boy smiled and nodded eagerly.
“Ready, Grandma?” he asked his great-grandmother Gertie, who was standing on his other side.
She placed her hand on his head. “Thank you for letting me share your birthday again, Jeremiah. I know six years old is a big deal.”
The little boy just shrugged. “You’re letting me share your birthday this time.”
He pointed to the cake, which was half orange and half purple, their respective favorite colors. Someone from the grocery had written “Happy Birthday Jeremiah and Gertrude” in green frosting.
“Are you ready to blow out the candles?” the little boy prompted eagerly.
His great-grandmother nodded. “Ready when you are!”
Jer winked at Tripp, who hid his grin as he scooped the boy up and settled him on his shoulders. It was an awkward perch from which to blow out the candles, but for what they had in mind…
“On the count of three,” the little boy called down to his great-grandmother. “One...two...three!”
As Gertie took a deep breath and huffed out the candles on their shared cake, Tripp pulled out two cans of primed silly string from the pockets of his khakis and tossed them up to Jeremiah. With a whoop which would have made his Marine cousin Bobling proud, Jeremiah depressed the triggers and let loose a barrage of blue and green silly string all over his closest relatives.
Katie’s cousin Jessie screamed and ducked behind Travis—the best physiotherapist in town and Dusty’s office partner—forcing him to take the brunt of the attack. He grabbed his chest as if he were on stage and pretended to be wounded, making Jeremiah laugh maniacally. The two cousins went down in a hail of silly string, tangled together on the kitchen linoleum.
On Tripp’s side of the family, Mack stood beside Mr. McIver, their arms crossed and identical stoic expressions on their faces. But Marybeth was screaming with the rest of them, throwing herself behind Kenneth, while Kalli Jo squealed happily and clapped her hands in her father’s arms.
It was pure, unadulterated chaos.
Among the screaming and ducking for cover, Alyssa was almost breathless from laughter as she reached up to pull her son from Tripp’s shoulders. “You rascal!” She shook him good-naturedly as she tugged him against her chest. “Was that your idea or your—” She bit down on the word as she glanced at Tripp. “Or Tripp’s?” she finished.
Tripp knew what she’d been about to say. By this point, everyone in the room knew he was Jer’s father. Except the boy himself.
He’d stood beside her as she’d told her siblings last week. Katie hadn’t been surprised, but Kenneth had probably already spilled the beans to her. Heather had been pleased, while Andrew had glowered.
“You’re not happy for me, big brother?” she’d asked him defiantly.
Andrew had just shrugged, and when his pregnant wife nudged him, sighed begrudgingly and glared at Tripp. “He’s not going to go gallivanting off again somewhere, is he?”
Tripp hadn’t even given her the chance to be irritated by her brother’s question. He just squeezed her and answered Andrew with, “Like it or not, I’m here to stay.”
Andrew had studied him for a few moments, then nodded. “Well then, welcome to the family.”
That discussion had led to the Weston house, then to the Quinn Valley Ranch to meet the oldest Quinns, and finally led to today, with both families gathered in Tripp’s new house—which used to be Katie’s old home before she and Kenneth moved into that big one on the other side of town—celebrating J
eremiah’s birthday. Everyone here knew exactly who Tripp was.
Everyone except Jeremiah himself, though sometimes, Tripp wondered if the boy had somehow guessed.
“It was my idea!” Jeremiah proclaimed proudly, answering his mother. “I told Tripp we couldn’t get Grandma Gertie, though. She’s the birthday girl today.”
Laughing, Libby McIver swooped in to embrace Jeremiah as well. “You little stinker! Have you been taking lessons on how to be a prankster?”
Travis was chuckling when he threw his arm around Alyssa’s mother. “He must get it from you, Aunt Libby!”
Alyssa’s mother sniffed theatrically and pretended to tear up. “I’m so happy.”
As Jeremiah was led away to cut and serve the cake, Tripp wrapped his arms around Alyssa’s middle and rested his chin on her shoulder. “I am too, you know.”
“What?” she asked in a low voice, turning her head towards him just slightly.
“Happy,” he clarified. “I’m so unbelievably happy to be here. With you and Jer. And everyone.”
He hadn’t expected her soft words. “Not everyone.”
Mom.
Tripp took a deep breath, allowing the guilt and grief he always felt when he thought of his mother to crash over him, then dissipate gently.
“She’s here though,” he said softly. “That’s what Pastor Blake says, at least.” He swallowed. “No matter how far we go, or how long she’s been gone, I know she’s with us. With me. And I know she loves me.”
“Oh, Tripp,” she murmured, turning in his arms. “I—”
“Get a room, you two,” Dusty hollered from across the kitchen.
His mother smacked him on the arm and rolled her eyes. “Don’t encourage them!”
Tripp’s lips curved upwards. The last time the two of them got a room, they’d ended up with Jeremiah.
“Come on,” he said softly, tugging her towards the front foyer.
When they reached the slightly more private area, he turned her in his arms once more. “You know, this is a really big house for just a single guy.”
