by Myra Johnson
Robert’s firm grip bit into Tripp’s shoulder. “Why don’t you get it over with and go talk to her?”
Tripp shot his partner a mock glare. “With friends like you—”
“—the world would be a happier place. Just do it already.” Grinning mischievously, Robert gave Tripp a not-so-gentle shove.
He barely kept himself from tripping. Diana’s smirk said she’d noticed. By the time he made his way across the crowded reception area, she’d poured him a cup of punch. Their fingertips grazed as she handed it to him.
He sipped gratefully, the tangy cranberry concoction soothing his dry throat. “This is really good. Thanks.”
Her gaze slid to just below the level of his chin, and she hiked a brow. “Wow, a tie and everything. Dressing to impress?”
“Just trying to look professional.” Tripp had debated about wearing a sports coat and was glad he’d decided not to. The ladies wore their Sunday best, but jeans, boots and open-neck shirts seemed to be the wardrobe of choice for the younger males of the community, no matter what day of the week.
“Well, you look very nice.” Diana offered him a plate and napkin. “Care for a pastry? You’re the guest of honor, after all.”
“Don’t remind me.” Knowing he shouldn’t—and wouldn’t—eat it, out of politeness Tripp chose a blueberry minimuffin and set it on his plate. He smiled and nodded as Sue Ellen and her friends crossed in front of him for coffee refills.
“Just breathe,” Diana murmured as she filled punch cups for two youngsters. “Only one hour and forty-three minutes to go.”
“You’re all heart.” It was encouraging to think Diana felt comfortable enough to joke with him, but Tripp suspected the jibes were only her self-defense mechanism kicking in.
For the next hour and a half, the continual ebb and flow of guests diverted Tripp’s attention, a good thing since the ground beneath his feet never felt totally stable with Diana nearby.
By the time four o’clock rolled around, most of the guests had said their goodbyes. Tripp shook hands with the last family to depart and said he looked forward to meeting their pets very soon. Even though he’d relaxed a bit as the warm welcomes flowed over him, he whistled a sigh of relief that the open house was finally over.
Turning from the door, he saw Diana and her helpers starting to pack up the leftover pastries. Diana pointed to the plate he’d set down earlier with his uneaten minimuffin. “Want this now, or should I add it to the other goodies I’m boxing up for you?”
A boxful of sugar-laden doughnuts and muffins was the last thing Tripp needed, but he figured Seth Austin’s kids would appreciate the treats. He ambled over to the table. “Guess I got too busy visiting to eat.”
“It was a nice turnout. You’ll be the talk of the town for weeks.” Diana closed the lid on the box, then began gathering up the remaining plates and napkins.
“Anything I can do to help?”
Diana cast him a dismissive glance and kept working. “No, thanks. We’ve got it handled.”
He couldn’t help feeling stung by her refusal. With a tight smile, he backed away.
He hadn’t taken two steps when his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket. Reading his sister’s name on the display, he pressed the answer icon. “Hey, Brooke, I was going to call you later.”
“Tripp, I’ve got bad news. Mom’s been admitted to the hospital.”
* * *
Moments after Tripp answered his cell phone, the sudden change in his expression made Diana’s heart clench. Twisting sideways, shoulders hunched, he looked as if he’d been caught off guard by disturbing news.
Kimberly returned from emptying the coffee urn. She paused next to Diana. “Is Tripp okay?”
“Not sure.” Diana gnawed on her lower lip. This appeared to be much more serious than someone’s pet needing emergency treatment.
“Maybe you should find out. He looks pretty upset.”
Diana wasn’t so sure Tripp would welcome her intrusion. Glancing around, she hoped to enlist Doc Ingram’s help but then remembered seeing him escort a couple of older ladies out to their car.
Tripp spoke a few more words into his phone, then disconnected. Still facing away, he heaved a shaky breath.
Diana couldn’t restrain herself a moment longer. She scurried around the serving table, stopping just short of laying a hand on Tripp’s arm. “Is—is there anything I can do?”
He seemed surprised to see her standing there. His Adam’s apple bobbed with a pained swallow. “That was Brooke. My mom’s in the hospital.”
“Oh, no! What happened?” Diana had sweet memories of Peggy Willoughby, the soft-spoken woman who had welcomed her into their family like a daughter.
“Mom has kidney disease. It was causing some heart problems, so they hospitalized her to get things under control.”
“Kidney disease? Tripp, I had no idea.”
“It’s been going on for a while. That’s why Brooke got my folks to move out to California, so she could help with Mom’s care.”
Diana hadn’t even known Brooke was living in California now. After college, they’d lost touch. At a loss for words, she motioned toward a row of chairs. “Sit down. Let me get you some water or something.”
“No, thanks.” Groaning, he pressed a hand to his side. “I think I just need to get out of here.”
“Tripp—”
Before Diana could say more, he pushed through the inner door and marched down the hallway. His thudding footsteps faded, and moments later, the rear door slammed.
Kimberly, who’d continued quietly packing up their catering supplies, sidled over. “I couldn’t help overhearing. Sounds like his mom’s pretty sick.”
“I feel horrible for him. For his whole family.”
“Guess you got pretty close to them, before...”
Diana nodded. “I loved them all, very much. After we broke up, it felt like I’d lost them, too.”
Doc Ingram returned through the front entrance, his expression grim. “Caught Tripp as he was leaving. Said he wasn’t feeling well and to apologize for taking off so quickly without thanking you again.”
“Our pleasure,” Kimberly answered when Diana couldn’t seem to find her voice. “We’ll just finish up here and be on our way.”
Brushing aside her troubled thoughts, Diana joined Kimberly and Ethan in loading their catering supplies onto a rolling cart. Twenty minutes later, Diana parked in the alley behind the doughnut shop, and shortly after they’d carried everything inside.
“Ethan and I can put all this stuff away,” Kimberly offered. “Go home. You look beat.”
Diana couldn’t deny she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. Maintaining her composure around Tripp made everything harder, and the heartbreaking news about his mother only added to her distress.
She gave Kimberly a grateful hug. “Offer accepted. I’ll come in extra early in the morning to help you with the doughnuts.”
Back in her car, Diana started for home. Before she’d driven two blocks, she had a flashback to the pained look on Tripp’s face in the moments before he’d left the clinic. He’d never been the type to burden others with his personal problems, and now she pictured him alone in his cabin, racked with worry while he waited for more news from his sister.
At the next intersection, with no traffic in either direction, Diana braked and rested her head on the steering wheel. Her conscience was telling her to go to him, but her heart resisted. What should I do, God?
Her conscience spoke a little louder, which she took as God’s direction to put her misgivings aside and do the right thing. If she were a stranger in a new community, she’d certainly be grateful for the support of an old friend at a time like this.
Old friend. After what they’d meant to each other—what she’d believed they’d meant to each other—could she reall
y bear to settle for friendship?
Did she have a choice?
With a resigned sigh, Diana flipped on her turn signal. Two right turns took her back toward town. She passed the square, then turned left onto the farm road leading to Serenity Hills. She couldn’t be sure he’d gone straight to his cabin, but if he hadn’t, she’d wait for him.
Arriving at the guest ranch, she followed the lane around to the staff cabins. When she spotted Tripp’s dark green SUV, she suffered a moment of panic—could she really do this?
Before she could change her mind, Tripp stepped onto the porch. He still wore his dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his tie hanging loose from his open collar.
As she pulled up beside his car, his eyes widened in surprise. He came down the steps to meet her. “Diana, what are you doing here?”
Nudging the door closed with her hip, she crossed her arms and forced herself to meet his gaze. “I couldn’t stop worrying about...your mom.”
“She’d appreciate knowing that.” Tripp ducked his head. “I do, too.”
Diana narrowed her gaze. “You didn’t tell Doc Ingram about your mom, did you?”
Guilt furrowing his brow, Tripp glanced away with a shrug. “I will, when I know more.”
“This is so like you, Tripp, always holding things in.” Sarcasm riddled her tone. “So what are you planning to do in the meantime? Pull your ‘Mr. Cool’ routine and go on about your business like nothing’s wrong?”
“If you drove all the way out here to lecture me—”
“I drove all the way out here because I thought you could use a friend.”
Jaw muscles bunched, he stared at her for a full second. “Yeah,” he said, his voice husky. “Guess maybe I could.” He plowed stiff fingers through his hair. “Sorry, it’s been kind of a roller-coaster day.”
“For both of us.” This time she didn’t hold back from touching his arm. “Your mom will always be special to me. I hope you know that.”
“I do. I wish—” Tripp squeezed his eyes shut, then shook his head as if trying to clear it. “Never mind. Just...thanks for coming. It means a lot.”
Diana wondered what he’d been about to say but decided she might be better off not knowing. She nodded toward the two red chairs on the porch. “Since I’m here, maybe we could sit for a while and work on this friendship thing?”
Tripp answered with a soft chuckle. “I’d like that.”
* * *
Sitting on the porch with Diana was nice...real nice. Tripp had never in a million years anticipated her showing up like this, offering friendship and, at least figuratively, a shoulder to lean on while he waited for word about his mother.
Diana gazed toward a nearby pasture where two mares grazed. “Did Brooke say when to expect more news?”
“She promised to call back after they get Mom stabilized.” Tripp spoke with more confidence than he felt. Each setback seemed worse than the one before, and he worried how much longer he’d have his mom around.
“I hate that she’s going through this.” Diana’s fists knotted on the armrests. “Isn’t there anything they can do? Maybe a kidney transplant or something?”
“It’s not that simple. Blood type, tissue matching—a lot of things have to come together for a kidney donation to be successful.”
“And no one in your family was a match?”
“We all got tested, but...it didn’t work out.” The familiar lump of regret landed hard in the pit of Tripp’s belly. He stood and paced to the porch rail. Glancing back at Diana, he pasted on a smile. “Mind if we talk about something else? Tell me how your therapy pets project is going.”
Her shoulders sagged. “Things aren’t moving as quickly as I’d hoped.” She told him about the cool reception from the church committee members, then added hesitantly, “I was planning to ask you today if I could post flyers at the clinic, until...”
Sidestepping the subject of his mother’s illness, Tripp said, “Sure, of course you can. I told you I’d help any way I could.” He returned to his chair. Forearms braced on his knees, he continued thoughtfully, “Obedience certification is usually the biggest hurdle. Once we get some interested dog owners, we can find a trainer and schedule the classes. Then it’s just a matter of—”
“Tripp.”
He met her tight-lipped stare.
“I only asked you about posting flyers, not to take charge of my project.”
Straightening, he cleared his throat. “Didn’t mean to. Guess I got a little carried away.”
Diana faced forward. “I’m a little touchy, I suppose.”
She didn’t have to spell it out. He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Really sorry, okay? This is me backing off.”
“And now you’re just mocking me.” Her voice trembled the tiniest bit, the pitiful sound tying knots around Tripp’s heart.
“I’d never mock you, Diana. I care—” He cut himself off before he said too much.
For a microsecond he thought he glimpsed a spark of hope in her eyes, before she covered it with an indifferent shrug. “This is silly. You said you’ve had experience working with therapy pets, and since I have no idea what I’m doing, I’d be a fool to refuse your help.”
He wanted so badly to take her hand, to tell her how incredibly cute she looked with that conciliatory pout on her lips. His voice fell to just above a whisper. “Whatever you need, just ask.”
With a sharp exhale, she muttered, “Thank you.”
Several minutes of silence passed while the warm afternoon breeze swept away the remnants of their quarrel. Tripp chose to concentrate on the fact that Diana was here and speaking to him at all, which meant there had to be some hope for them, right? How many times had he prayed for this chance to clear the air between them, to somehow make up for the hurt he’d caused?
Tell her.
His inner voice just wouldn’t shut up. But he couldn’t tell her, not yet. Not until their connection as friends in the present overshadowed the heartbreak of the past.
“You’re right,” Diana said, interrupting his thoughts.
He shot her a startled glance. “I am? About what?”
“Obedience classes. How soon do you think we could set something up?”
Smiling to himself, Tripp tried to keep any hint of smugness out of his tone. Her use of the word we wasn’t lost on him. “I’ll make some calls first thing in the morning.”
“Great. I’ll get on my computer and work on those flyers tonight. As soon as business slows down at the shop tomorrow, I’ll bring them by.”
“Or...maybe we could meet somewhere for lunch?” Tripp figured he was expecting too much, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. “By then, I might have some answers for you about a dog trainer.”
Diana appeared to be thinking over his suggestion. At least she hadn’t given him an outright no. “The supermarket deli has an outdoor café. Would twelve thirty work for you?”
Tripp couldn’t believe she’d agreed. “Sounds good.”
Checking her watch, Diana sighed. “I should go. My kids will be wanting their supper.” She pushed up from the chair. “When you hear from Brooke again, would you give me a call?”
“Of course.”
“Promise me? I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. I’d like to know.”
Tripp crossed his heart. “I promise.” He followed her down the porch steps. “Diana?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Thanks.”
Her brusque nod told him he didn’t have to explain. “See you tomorrow.”
Seconds later, she drove away, leaving Tripp with a bittersweet ache in his chest.
* * *
Too anxious about his mother to think about supper, Tripp made do with scrambled eggs and a slice of Canadian bacon. For the next hour or
two, he tried to distract himself by reading up on the latest heartworm preventatives. When Brooke hadn’t called by 10 p.m., his frustration got the best of him. He grabbed his cell phone off the lamp table and rang Brooke’s number.
“Tripp, sorry for not calling sooner.” She sounded tired.
“I’ve been going crazy. How’s Mom?”
“Hold on a sec. I’m stepping into the corridor.” The ambient sounds coming through the phone grew louder—indistinct voices, random beeps, the rattle of wheels across tile. “Okay, I can talk now. They got Mom’s blood pressure stabilized about an hour ago.”
“Thank God!” Tripp ran his hand across his eyes.
“We’re not out of the woods yet. This was pretty serious.” Brooke’s voice faltered. “Tripp, the doctor said we need to be prepared.”
A knot lodged in Tripp’s throat. “Prepared?”
“Mom’s weakening. Even if they found a kidney donor tomorrow, it wouldn’t help. Her health has deteriorated too much.”
For the millionth time, Tripp blamed the Crohn’s that made him ineligible to give his mother a kidney. Barely able to speak the words, he asked, “How long?”
“The doctor won’t commit to a timetable. He says it all depends on how well she rallies after this setback.”
Tripp stood and paced the small sitting area. “Should I fly out there? I can leave in the morning—”
“No, Tripp.” Brooke released a long sigh. “If you come now, it would only reinforce to both Mom and Dad that we’re expecting the worst. I want to keep their hopes up for as long as we can.”
Her logic made sense, but Tripp hated having his family so far away at a time like this. “All right, but if you even suspect—” He had to swallow hard before continuing. “Just don’t wait till the last minute, okay? I want to be there.”
“I promise. You’re coming for Thanksgiving anyway, right? That’s only a few weeks away.”
“Yeah, that’s still the plan.” Except at this point, that felt like forever.
His dad’s voice sounded in the background. “Is that Tripp? Let me talk to him.”
