A Jackson Hole Homecoming

by Cindy Kirk

  “The pizza with the cream-cheese topping.”

  A touch of pink colored her cheeks. “I know it’s rather decadent, but hey, you only live once.”

  True, he thought, and sometimes not for all that long. Tripp pulled his thoughts back to the woman beside him. “Will Bill be able to join us? It’d be great to see him again.”

  Okay, that might be stretching the truth a bit. Poppy’s husband, Bill Stanhope, was a prominent NYC neurosurgeon. He’d been divorced with grown kids when he and Poppy had met and married. Bill was arrogant and a bit of a jerk, but for old times’ sake, Tripp could endure his company for an hour or two.

  “Bill is ancient history.” Poppy lifted a hand in an airy wave, but for a brief second he saw a hint of sadness in her eyes. “We separated a couple years ago. Our divorce was final last January.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Tripp was sorry. Even though he hadn’t cared for the guy, Poppy had once seemed very happy with Stanhope.

  “Yes, well.” She glanced at the vintage Cartier watch on her slender wrist. “I need to run a quick errand. Would meeting there at 12:45 work for you?”

  He smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

  Once Poppy left, Tripp refocused on the screen, trying to get a few more minutes of work done, but again he found it difficult to concentrate.

  He thought about texting Anna to see how her day was going, but held back. Tripp wondered if this growing need for her, if this involvement with her, was a mistake. They’d gone so quickly from friends to casual lovers to his wanting to be with her all the time. Which was a problem. He wasn’t ready for a full-fledged relationship. He didn’t have the time. Like now—here he was thinking of her when he should be working.

  If he did commit to running for mayor, his days and nights would be packed to the brim with meetings, fundraisers and required events.

  But what was the solution? Walk away from Anna? The sick feeling in the pit of his belly told him he may have already waited too long for that to be an option.

  No, he told himself. No promises had been made. No words of love exchanged. He and Anna were simply friends with benefits. That was all.

  The tension gripping his chest eased. When he looked at the screen, the spreadsheet beckoned.

  With one eye on the clock, he resumed working.

  * * *

  Anna’s Monday started off far earlier than she’d anticipated. One of the patients who’d been scheduled for an induction that morning had shown up at the hospital with food poisoning at 4:00 a.m.

  Even though Anna had gone to bed early, racing thoughts had kept sleep at bay. Still groggy, Anna had jumped out of bed and headed to the hospital. Dr. Michelle Davis, one of the ob-gyns she worked with, had beaten her there. Her colleague had taken one look at Anna’s pale complexion and red eyes and teasingly asked if she was certain she hadn’t had any of the macaroni salad the patient had ingested.

  Anna had responded that not everyone looked as good as Michelle did without makeup, then squirted a stream of Visine into her eyes.

  While Michelle tended to the food-poisoning patient, Anna had turned her attention to a forty-two-year-old first-time mother who was past her due date and also scheduled for an induction. Preferring to go the natural route, the pregnant woman had been given a tincture of black and blue cohosh.

  The herbs had worked remarkably well and labor had progressed rapidly. Even as the new mom and her husband were cuddling their baby girl, Karla Anderson had shown up at the emergency room, distraught and crying.

  Karla advised the E.R. doc that the last time she’d felt her baby move had been over twenty-four hours earlier. Dr. Wahl, one of the doctors on duty, had been unable to pick up a heartbeat. Concerned, he’d contacted Anna, and Karla had been transferred to the maternity area.

  There was a quality of unreality to the situation, Anna had thought. Karla had been in only last week for her monthly ante-partum visit and the pregnancy had been progressing normally. Yet, the additional tests confirmed the E.R. doc’s findings.

  Anna sat down with Karla, held the young woman’s trembling hands and explained her baby would be stillborn. Anna was surprised at how calm and rational she sounded when her heart was breaking inside. She cradled the sobbing Karla in her arms and held her for the longest time.

  Once hospital social worker Lexi Delacourt arrived, they quietly and gently informed Karla of her options. After more tears, Karla chose to wait until her mother got back into town at the end of the week instead of being immediately induced. She was on the phone with the baby’s father when Anna slipped from the room, leaving the young woman in Lexi’s capable hands.

  It was barely one o’clock and Anna felt like an old dish towel hung out to dry, whipping in a brisk breeze. She needed Tripp. Needed to feel his arms around her. Needed his comfort. His warmth.

  It isn’t weakness, she told herself. When you love someone, you’re there for them. And they’re there for you.

  She hadn’t heard from him, but then, she’d told him she’d be tied up most of the day and he’d mentioned something about finishing up a big presentation. Anna knew how single-minded Tripp could be once he got involved in a project. If she was lucky, he’d be in his office. If she was even luckier, he’d be alone.

  Anna changed out of her scrubs and freshened up before heading to the executive office suites. Paula was at her desk. The personal assistant gave her a quizzical look when she saw her. She wondered if it was the lack of makeup or the dark circles under her eyes.

  “I’m here to see Tripp.”

  “He left for lunch a little while ago.” Paula looked confused. “I thought he was meeting you.”

  Anna fought to keep the disappointment from her voice. “He probably had a business meeting.”

  “I don’t think so.” Paula’s brows puckered. “He mentioned something about chicken Tuscany at Perfect Pizza. That’s not a place he’d typically choose for a business meeting.”

  Anna paused. Would he have gone out to lunch alone? Yes, especially if he was in the mood for that kind of pizza. Her hopes rose.

  “Shall I have him call you?” Paula offered. “Tell him you stopped by?”

  “No need.” Anna waved a vague hand. “I’ll catch up with him later.”

  When she left Tripp’s office, Anna headed out the front door of the hospital. It was a glorious fall day with a crisp bite to the air, but Anna barely noticed. Normally she loved hearing the crackle of dried leaves crunching beneath her feet. Today, they were an irritation, scattering dust across the tops of her shoes.

  The plan had been to simply walk for several blocks, stretch her legs, then return to the clinic for her late-afternoon appointments. Or so she told herself. But before she knew it, she was downtown. Because Perfect Pizza was just off the main square, she decided to take a quick detour and see if Tripp was still there. And if he wanted company.

  She stepped inside the café and smiled at the young man behind the counter waiting to take her order.

  “I’m meeting someone,” she informed him before turning toward the dining room with its knotty pine booths and picnic-style log tables.

  She spotted Tripp immediately. But her heart, which had lurched in her chest at the sight of him, suddenly dropped to her toes. He wasn’t alone.

  Poppy Westover sat across the table from him, her dark hair shimmering in the overhead fluorescent lights. They were laughing, Anna noted dispassionately. While she watched, Poppy reached over and playfully took his hand.

  It was the maraschino cherry on the top of a rotten morning. Anna edged back from the dining area, not wanting to be seen. Wishing she hadn’t seen...

  “Did you find your friend?” the boy behind the counter asked.

  “He must have already left.” Before he could ask any more questions, Anna was out the door. Th
e breeze was cool against her hot cheeks as she turned toward the clinic.

  * * *

  Tripp noticed Anna was unusually quiet over dinner at The Coffeepot. It wasn’t as if she’d been busy eating. She’d barely touched the catfish on her plate. He filled the silence, talking about everything from his father’s recent lab work to his upcoming board of trustees presentation.

  Even though Anna smiled in all the right places and made sounds of acknowledgment, something in her eyes, in the rigid set of her shoulders, worried him.

  “I stopped by to see if you were free for lunch today.” She waited to speak until the waitress had refilled their iced tea and left the check on the table.

  “I’m sorry I missed you,” he said, encouraged by the fact she was ready to converse.

  When he’d first told her about his day, he hadn’t mentioned seeing Poppy because it didn’t seem all that relevant. But perhaps he’d been wrong to omit it. “Poppy stopped by. We had lunch at Perfect Pizza.”

  Anna offered a brittle smile.

  “I found out she was squinting at the party—” he forced a laugh “—not glaring at me. Apparently she needs her glasses to see but didn’t wear them because they were too modern for her outfit.”

  Something flickered in Anna’s cool green eyes when he paused to take a breath.

  Tripp pressed his lips together to stop the rambling.

  “Hmm.”

  “What do you mean by ‘hmm’?” he asked, feeling guilty but not knowing why. Feeling frustrated, too.

  She traced a finger on the tabletop. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

  “About what?”

  She straightened in her chair. “Our relationship.”

  A quick chill sprinted up his spine and he noticed the coolness in her eyes had leeched into her voice.

  “What about our relationship?” He found himself stumbling over the words.

  “You’re a busy man, Tripp. You don’t have time to date.”

  It had been what he’d told himself all along. Why, then, did it sound wrong coming from her lips?

  He pulled his brows together. “Is this because I had lunch with Poppy and forgot to tell you?”

  “You didn’t forget,” she snapped, then ran her fingers through her hair. She blew out a breath. When she spoke again her voice was calm and well modulated. “Anyway, I’m not your keeper.”

  “That’s right. You’re not.” At his raised voice, several patrons at nearby tables turned to stare. When he spoke again, his voice was conciliatory. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have told you about the lunch. We did a lot of reminiscing about Gayle, that’s all.”

  “Oh.” A look Tripp couldn’t decipher crossed her face. “So you can talk to her about Gayle, but not to me?”

  Tripp held on to his temper with both hands. It was almost as if Anna was spoiling for a fight. Well, he wasn’t going to give her one.

  “If you have something to say, just say it,” he said in as mild a tone as he could muster.

  “The box of Gayle’s stuff,” she reminded him. “I tried to talk to you about her then, but you shut me down. She was my friend, too.”

  She was also jealous of you.

  For a second he thought he’d spoken the words aloud. Words he’d vowed never to say to her. Anna didn’t deserve to have the memory of her friendship with Gayle tarnished by unjustified accusations spoken in the heat of anger.

  After speaking with Poppy today, Tripp felt he understood a little better what had driven Gayle. Poppy firmly believed his wife’s insecurities had stemmed from her father’s infidelities. Apparently his cheating had profoundly affected Gayle. Much more than Tripp had realized.

  The fact that Gayle had feared Anna would be a better match for him had further fueled her insecurities.

  Although Tripp had loved Gayle deeply, he reluctantly admitted—but only to himself—that he and Anna were a better match. Anna enjoyed spending time with him and his family. She loved Jackson Hole and while her job was important to her, it wasn’t her life.

  It amazed him that once he’d opened that door, Anna had so quickly become an integral part of his life.

  Yet, the depth of his feelings had terrified him. Losing Gayle had thrown him into a black hole that had taken him down so low that he’d wondered many times if he’d survive. What if something happened to Anna? Could he put himself in a position of caring so much again?

  “It’s just not working between us.”

  Whoa. Hold the damn horses. He pulled his thoughts back to the conversation, to the woman sitting across from him, her face an expressionless mask. “What did you say?”

  “This thing between us is not working. It’s best we end it now.”

  Fear, stark and unwelcome, wrapped itself around Tripp’s throat, making breathing difficult. “Tell me exactly what’s not working.”

  She lifted that blasted shoulder in another shrug.

  In that moment she reminded him of Gayle. All those times she’d refused to share feelings and concerns with him.

  Still, as much as a tiny voice inside told him this might be for the best, he couldn’t lose Anna. He tried again.

  “I believe openness and honesty are essential for any relationship to succeed.” Considering that his insides quivered like gelatin, he did a good job keeping his voice calm.

  She gave a humorless chuckle. “Really?”

  “Really.” His gaze never left hers.

  “It surprises me that you’d say that considering you never told me about your conversation with Poppy.”

  “I did tell you—”

  “Or of your decision to fully explore a mayoral bid. Then there’s the matter of your refusal to discuss Gayle with me. And let’s not forget that lukewarm kiss under the mistletoe Saturday night. What was going on there, Tripp? Because you’re all about being open and honest—why don’t you be all open and honest and tell me what was going on in your head at that moment?”

  He thought back to Saturday night, to the strong feelings for Anna welling up inside him, to the shock of seeing Poppy and being reminded of Gayle’s tirades. All he knew was, when he’d stepped under the mistletoe, he’d been seized with an intense need to step back, to regroup.

  “I’m not sure what happened at the party,” he said, hoping she’d hear the sincerity in his tone. “I’m still trying to sort it out.”

  “Well, I figured it out, so let me explain it for you.” Bright swaths of color crossed Anna’s high cheekbones. “You like me. Just not enough. You want to let me down easy, but because you’re not sure how to do it, you’re pushing me away, hoping I’ll be the one to walk.”

  Tripp paused. Pushing her away? If he was, it had been on a subconscious level.

  She picked up on his hesitation, and something that looked like sadness crossed her face. But it was gone so quickly he thought he’d just imagined it.

  “It was good while it lasted, Tripp. But I need more. I deserve more.” She pushed back her chair and stood.

  Then, with her back ramrod straight, Anna walked out the door and out of his life.

  Chapter Twenty

  By the next day all of her friends knew she and Tripp were no longer seeing each other. For once Anna didn’t mind the gossip mill of a small community. It saved her from having to break the news.

  Still, her day was filled with well-meaning questions and concerned glances. She planned to go home, grab a dinner from the freezer and lose herself in a good book. Then she received a better offer.

  The call from Betsy came midafternoon. Apparently Ryan had a meeting that night and she asked if Anna was interested in a pizza party and movie. It would be just the two of them—four if you counted Nathan and Puffy.

  Even though Anna had no doubt Betsy would try to
pry out of her the reason for the breakup, the alternative was to sit home and cry over a frozen dinner of rubbery chicken.

  Grabbing the pizza box, Anna sauntered up to the small cottage. Tonight she and her oldest and dearest friend would enjoy food, conversation and a movie with a happy ending. Anna could trust Betsy not to bring up the subject of Tripp. At least not until Anna had some pizza in her.

  Her friend met her at the door, the baby nestled in her arm.

  “I’m so glad you were available.” Betsy’s warm smile was like a balm to Anna’s aching heart. “It feels like forever since we’ve had a girls’ night.”

  Anna smiled and stepped inside onto the shiny hardwood floor. A faint scent of vanilla hung in the air.

  Puffy trotted out to greet her, looked her up and down, then pranced away.

  “How’s Puffy?” Anna asked. “Is she jealous of the baby?”

  “Not at all.” Betsy gestured for Anna to put the pizza box on the coffee table in the living room next to the plates, napkins and forks that were already there.

  Once she did, Betsy handed her son to Anna. “I’ll get the drinks. Do you want tea? Or I have beer if you’re in the mood for something a little stronger.”

  Anna thought about asking her friend if she had any Coyote Gold margarita mix, but decided against it. Alcohol never went well with the blues.

  “Tea will be fine.” Anna inhaled the clean, fresh scent of baby powder wafting from the child in her arms. She dropped her gaze and found serious eyes staring up at her.

  “How are you, Nathan?” She took his little hand in her fingers and moved it up and down. “You’re a handsome boy. Yes, you are.”

  If she and Tripp had a child, he might look like this one with dark hair from her and blue eyes from him. Or the baby could get her green eyes and his blond hair. Or—

  Stop. Anna screwed her eyes shut against the pain. There would be no babies for her and Tripp. Her relationship with him was over. Done. Finished.

  “Where did Ryan go tonight?” she asked Betsy when her friend returned, eager to refocus her thoughts.