Shadows and Dreams (Dream Series Book 2)

by Braxton Hicks

  Perhaps this was her version of a diary. Maybe she'd wanted to hide those pages since they were rather explicit. Speaking of which—

  “Dad, it seems as if you left something out when you talked to me about what happened the night you met my mother.”

  He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable I'd brought it up.

  “Tylar,” he said with a heavy sigh, “I just didn’t want you to think your mother was anything but a sweet and innocent girl who I violated that night. It was my fault.”

  “I don’t think my mother felt violated for very long, Dad,” I smiled. “You had to find some comfort in that, right?”

  “I did,” he replied. “I also found comfort in the fact that she loved me. I'm in despair knowing this now and wondering why she wouldn’t have come to me for help and protection. It’s my fault she’s gone,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m the reason for everything bad that's ever happened to you, my darling daughter.”

  “Dad, please.” It was upsetting to me to hear his self-loathing.

  “I’m sorry, Tylar,” he said, his composure having returned, “Is Trey home?”

  “Yes, he’s right here, why?”

  “I need to speak with him about something. Could you put him on?"

  I wondered what he could tell Trey that he couldn’t tell me.

  “Trey,” I said taking the phone into the living room. “It’s Judge Tylar for you.”

  Trey gave me a strange look and took the phone, “Your Honor?”

  I watched as Trey listened to whatever it was my father was saying to him. He gave an occasional nod with a spoken "I see" or "I agree." The conversation then shifted to something different.

  “That's perfectly fine with me, sir,” he said. “I'll make their flight arrangements.”

  My father must've said something in response.

  “Yes, that's wonderful. I’ll have Tylar get back to you just as soon as the arrangements have been made. I'll tell her, sir. Good night.”

  I was glaring at Trey, wanting him to spill the gist of the conversation.

  “Don’t give me the hateful look, Tylar. Your dad wanted to talk to me. He wants you and Preston to visit. He must be a kind of old-fashioned guy who still thinks the man rules the roost.”

  “Don’t worry. I'll set him straight about our roost when I’m down there, now what'd he say?”

  Trey gave me a warm smile. “Well, he's certainly moved quickly on all of this. Search warrants are being served as we speak by federal authorities to search Matthew Renaud’s home, vehicles, phone records, confiscate his hard drive and any other software communication devices in his possession or in his name. Along with that, a search is being done on the vehicle that Maggie had and ditched, which was impounded, to find any traces of Matthew’s involvement in Preston’s abduction.”

  “Why couldn’t Dad just tell me that?”

  “Honey, I think he also wanted to see if I had a real issue with parting with you and the baby for a few days to come and see him. It’s actually kind of sweet. He told me that he has already had a room furnished as a nursery, and his housekeeper there is at your disposal.”

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Sweetheart, you do know that you father is a millionaire several times over, right?”

  “Do federal judges make all that?” I asked, surprised.

  “They make a nice living, but your father’s wealth comes from the estate of his deceased wife. She came from a very prominent family and was an only child, so when her parents died, she inherited, big time.”

  Something bothered me about all this. I believed that my father had fallen in love with my mother. I also felt that the fact he'd told her he couldn't get out of his impending marriage pointed toward something else. I recalled her diary entry where a month or so before I was born, he was appointed as a federal judge. I needed to understand the politics of this.

  “Trey, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure, baby."

  “I just need to know something about how things work with appointments to federal judgeships, Supreme Court appointments that sort of thing?”

  “I’ll tell you what I know; the rest will be strictly my opinion on the matter.”

  “Did the fact my father was engaged to a woman who came from an extremely wealthy family help him get that appointment to the federal bench?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. Federal Judges are appointed by the president as openings occur. Unlike Supreme Court justices, they don’t require approval by both parties. They're appointed for life. I guess my short answer is that, it's possible. If your father’s wife’s family had a lot of political clout, that might have served your father well in getting that appointment. It doesn’t mean that there were any payoffs or bribes. I would doubt that very much. His district isn’t one that would have key legislation crossing it.”

  "I'm looking forward to this trip to Baton Rouge." I needed to see how my father rolled.

  Gina was due to move in this coming weekend and I needed to be here to help her get settled and referee any arguments that might ensue between her and Trey. It was as if Gina was psychic. My phone chimed right then and it was her.

  “Hey, Girlfriend,” I said, when I answered.

  “Tylar, I'm so pissed!” she yelled into the phone.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, wondering what the hell was up.

  “Tristan and I just had our first fight and it was a fucking doozy!”

  “Is he down here?” I asked.

  “Of course not,” she snapped. “We had a fucking argument on the phone. He isn't ‘allowing’ me—did you catch the operative word there ‘allowing’?”

  “Yes,” I replied rolling my eyes, “please finish.”

  “He isn't permitting me to rename my club ‘The Shady Lady’ just like I'd planned for months.”

  “Well, did he give you a reason?”

  “Yeah. He said it wasn’t fucking conducive to the type of atmosphere he was trying to portray with adding the dinner menu during the weeknights. I suppose he doesn’t think it’s classy enough.”

  "Can't you two come to a compromise?"

  “Compromise? Compromise? He's so freaking bull-headed. He must have some of that Hot Nazi shit running through his bloodline.”

  “How did you leave it between you two?” I asked.

  “He said we'd discuss it when he’s back next week. Then—and listen to this, girlfriend—he says ‘end of conversation, Gina’.”

  I got a smile on my face recognizing one of Trey’s signature responses to me.

  “I mean, do you fucking believe that? Him telling me it’s the end of the conversation? Oh, hell no.”

  “I'm sure everything will work out fine and you and Tristan will reach some compromise when he's back here and you two are…”

  “Are what, Ty?”

  “Having a fuckfest,” I said, barely getting the words out before I broke into laughter.

  “Hmmph,” she said haughtily. “It'll be a cold day in hell before he gets inside my knickers again.”

  “Gina, take a bath and relax. It'll be fine, I promise you. Look, I’ve got to go and get Preston ready for bed. I'll talk to you tomorrow and let you know what’s been going on with me today. There've been all kinds of surprises.”

  “Okay, call me,” she ordered, before hanging up.

  Chapter 40

  I helped Gina get settled in to our apartment on Saturday. Tristan had ended up flying in to help her move, though Gina said that nothing had changed between them. She was still in stand-off mode with him about changing the club’s name.

  Tristan had definitely extended the olive branch to Gina by offering to pay for professional movers. Gina had pooh-poohed his offer by saying that she had too much pride to accept his “fucking charity.” She'd rented a truck fully expecting that she and I could haul her stuff out of the condo and into the truck.

  Trey had put his foot down on that idea.

 
Thank God.

  He and Tristan were adamant that they would load it up and take it over to her storage unit. It took them three trips to get it all moved. In the meantime, Gina and I busied ourselves at the apartment getting her clothes unpacked and put away.

  Preston was playing in her crib while we worked in the nursery getting Gina settled in.

  “Do you believe that Tristan flew in just to help you move?” I was trying my best to get her spirits up.

  “Oh, don’t let that fool you. He has an appointment Monday with the health inspector to approve the kitchen for the upgraded food license for expanding our food service."

  "Really?" I replied. "Sounds like a plan."

  "Plus, he's interviewing chefs this coming week. You know he plans to stay here, don’t you? I mean, you're the one who extended that invitation.”

  “Well, of course he's welcome here, Gina. He’s Trey’s brother and my brother-in-law.”

  “Just so you don’t expect him to crash in here with me then.”

  “Of course not,” I said, as if the thought hadn't occurred to me. “Tristan can bunk out on the living room sofa. He'd probably prefer that anyway, with the big flat screen out there.”

  Just then we both turned as we heard Preston grunt extremely loudly. Her little cheeks were beet red. “Uh oh,” Gina laughed, watching her grunt.

  “I guess since I’m bunking in here with her, I’ve got diaper duty.”

  “I’ve got it,” I said, grabbing a clean disposable diaper.

  “No, you don’t. This is my god-daughter and we're official roomies, so I've got it.” She got no argument out of me.

  Once Tristan and Trey got back to the apartment, Gina had settled Preston on a blanket in the living room. They had an assortment of toys that they were playing with together.

  I had dinner going. I could tell Trey and Tristan needed showers before dinner. Tristan’s suitcase was in the entry hall. To avoid a scene later, I figured that I'd better bring Trey into the fold as to what had transpired. I lip synced Trey, indicating that I needed to speak to him privately. I left the room, going down the hall to our suite. Tristan had gone into the bathroom off of the nursery to shower.

  “What is it?” Trey asked, as I shut the door behind us in our room.

  “Trey, there's major tension between Tristan and Gina.”

  “So?” he asked.

  “Sooo,” I said. “What exactly do you think the sleeping arrangements are going to be while both of them are here?”

  “The same as if they weren’t fighting,” he answered immediately. “One of them can bunk on the couch; the other one can bunk in the bed in the nursery.”

  He saw the confused expression on my face.

  “Tylar,” he said patiently, “it doesn’t matter to me whether they're fighting or not. I wasn't about to let them cohabitate in my daughter’s room for Chrissake!”

  “Why?” I asked puzzled.

  “Do you think for one moment I’m going to expose my baby girl to their sexual shenanigans?”

  “I hadn't thought of it like that, so you'll let Tristan know that we'll make up the couch for him to sleep on then?”

  “You got it, babe,” he said, kissing me sweetly.

  Trey went to take his shower and I fed Preston. Gina took over after that, getting Preston changed and dressed for bed. I went in to nurse her and asked Gina if she'd go ahead and put our dinner on the table. Tristan had finished his shower and was out in the living room watching television.

  “Sure thing, Ty; got it covered.”

  I got Preston fed and tucked in for the night. As I closed her bedroom door softly, Trey was coming down the hallway from our suite. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt, his hair still damp from his shower.

  "Preston?" he asked.

  "She's down for the night," I replied. "Are you hungry?"

  “For a couple of things,” he replied, smacking my behind playfully.

  When we got out to the living room, it was obvious that Tristan and Gina had called a truce, at the very least. They were on the couch all over each other, kissing and feeling each other up.

  “Oh, for Chrissake,” Trey commented, rolling his eyes. “Are you even hungry at this point?”

  “Not really,” I said, going to the kitchen to shut off the lights and make sure all the burners were off. “I’m clearly exhausted and ready for my shower.”

  “Go for it, babe,” he replied. “I’ll get everything put away here and join you shortly.”

  Within ten minutes, I was showered and in my nightgown for the night. Trey was in our suite shortly thereafter saying that we needed to move Preston’s crib.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because Tristan and Gina have apparently made up and that couch isn't big enough to accommodate the fuckfest I know is coming.”

  “But, Trey,” I whined, “How are we going to get the crib moved without waking the baby?”

  “Christ Tylar, it isn’t as if we have to take it apart and re-assemble it. There are caster wheels on it, you know? I just want her out of that room.”

  “Okay. You’re right; the doorways here are plenty wide enough. Let’s just roll it down the hall into our room.”

  Trey didn’t follow me out into the hall.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Well, I really don’t want her in here seeing our sexual shenanigans, either,” he replied, sheepishly.

  “That’s a not a problem, sweetie; there aren’t going to be any ‘haps’ in our room tonight. Let’s go get her.”

  Trey and I rolled Preston’s crib into our room without disturbing her sleep whatsoever. I climbed into the bed, exhausted; Trey was right behind. We snuggled together and fell asleep in each other’s arms within minutes. Sometime during the night, both Trey and I were awakened by strange high-pitched sounds. I got up quietly and approached Preston’s crib. She was sleeping soundly her thumb in her mouth.

  “Is she okay?” Trey whispered from our bed.

  “Sound asleep,” I answered, making my way back to bed.

  Just then we heard the high-pitched wailing again.

  “It sounds like a cat in heat outside the building,” Trey whispered.

  “How in the hell can that sound drift all the way up to this floor?” I asked. Our answer came shortly after when we heard the headboard on the bed in the nursery banging against the wall in a steady rhythm. The “cat” screeches continued. We then heard loud male groaning; the banging had increased in rhythm and loudness.

  “Jesus Christ,” Trey mumbled loudly, “Déjà vu all fucking over again.” We both rolled our pillows up, placing them around our heads to cover our ears.

  Chapter 41

  Trey and I both awakened to the sound of Preston babbling, “num-num, num-num.”

  “I think that means you, honey,” Trey said, rolling over and nudging me. I was extremely groggy from our restless night due to the goings-on down the hall. Preston had managed to sleep right through it. Trey had said it was because she was used to those sounds. I'd elbowed him in the ribs on that one.

  “I don't sound like that,” I'd snapped at him.

  “And you better never, either,” he replied laughing, “or I'll put a pillow over your head.”

  Trey nudged me again. “Look at her Tylar, isn’t she cute?”

  I rose up and saw Preston standing up in her crib. She was bouncing up and down, grinning from ear to ear. Her eye teeth were all the way through now. Her sleep tousled hair was standing up in places, making it look like she had a couple of horns.

  “I think little ‘Vampira’ vould like to suck your teat,” Trey said, trying to sound like Bella Lugosi’s Dracula.

  “Shut up, Trey,” I laughed, scooting out of bed. “I hope that's not your latest nickname for her. She'll be in therapy with Karla before you know it.”

  I picked her up and smoothed her hair down before climbing back into bed with her. She nestled down against me finding my nipple and I fell back asleep. Trey must
've gotten up and dressed while I slept. I woke up again when he lifted Preston from me.

  “Hey, Tristan and Gina are up. Do you want me to give Preston her bath and get her dressed?”

  “Thank you, baby. I love you.”

  “Right back at you, Mrs. Sinclair.”

  I got up and dressed in jeans and a sweater. I put my make-up on and brushed my hair up into a ponytail. I didn’t feel like flat-ironing it this morning. When I got out to the living room, I could smell all kinds of breakfast aromas. Both Gina and Tristan were in the kitchen talking and laughing as they cooked.

  “Good morning, Ty,” Gina greeted me cheerily, as she brought a platter of warm biscuits and cooked sausage patties out and placed it on the dining room table. “Are you hungry for one of my special Sunday breakfasts?”

  I wasn’t aware that Gina had ‘special Sunday breakfasts,’ but I was famished, at any rate.

  “It looks and smells great, Gina.”

  “Take a seat then; Tristan is finishing up the omelets.”

  Trey came out just then with the baby all bathed and dressed and got her settled into her playpen.

  “Look at this,” I said, nodding toward the dining room. “Tristan and Gina have been busy.”

  Trey and I took our seats at the dining room table, which had been set with glasses of orange juice and ice water. Tristan appeared then with a platter of omelets, Gina followed behind with the coffee carafe filling everyone’s coffee cups. We all dug in, ravenous from doing without dinner the night before.

  “So,” I said, finally breaking the silence, “is everything okay with you two now?”

  I felt Trey’s foot bump mine underneath the table.

  So? I want to know.

  Gina and Tristan looked at each other warmly and smiled. “Tristan came up with a great compromise on the name of the club and I love it,” she said beaming.

  “So, are you going to share that with us?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s a combination of what he wanted and what I wanted. He wanted it to be called ‘Tristan’s’ because it sounds more refined and more conducive to appealing to the restaurant crowd we want to have Monday through Thursday. I, of course, wanted to call it ‘The Shady Lady’ for more of a party crowd appeal, which we like for weekends. So, we agreed to name it ‘Tristan’s Shady Lady Saloon and Restaurant.’ What do you think?”