by Myra Johnson
He did.
“Tripp, I, um...” She swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. “I wanted to find out how you’re doing.”
“Better, thanks.” A kind of calm strength undergirded his reply. “Actually, I’ve been a lot more concerned about how you’re doing.”
She had no way to answer that without sounding cruel. “I’m coping,” was all she said. “I know we need to deal with...everything. But you’ve just had major surgery, and I don’t want to do anything to hinder your recovery.”
“Diana, don’t worry about that. I’m getting along fine.”
“I’m sure you are. But—well, let me just get to the point. My mom would like you to come over for Sunday dinner tomorrow.”
Tripp hesitated. “I hope this isn’t strictly a pity invitation.”
“No. Absolutely not.” Diana marched to the end of the corridor. “Actually, I’m insulted that this is even an issue. That you would think so little of my family. Of me—”
“I don’t.” A sigh rasped through the phone. “That’s a mistake I will never make again. Can we just chalk it up to pea-brained male pride?”
She scoffed. “Now that is a condition I definitely consider pitiable.”
Another moment of silence elapsed. “Can we back up to the part where I said yes to your mom’s invitation and let me add a simple thank-you?”
“That would be best. I’ll text you directions to my parents’ place.”
“No need.” His voice dropped to a nostalgic murmur. “I remember like it was yesterday.”
Diana’s throat clenched as she recalled the last time she’d brought Tripp home to spend a weekend at the ranch. She’d been so certain he was on the verge of proposing, and then he’d taken ill with what they’d all assumed was either a stomach bug or food poisoning. Tripp must not even have known about the Crohn’s at that point. Then, only a few weeks later, she’d received the fateful phone call ending it all.
She cleared her throat. “So Mom usually serves dinner around one thirty. Come on over whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m looking forward to it...more than you know.”
Diana wished she could say the same, but the mere thought of facing Tripp tied her insides in knots. “Okay, then. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
* * *
When Tripp arrived at the Matthews ranch shortly after 1 p.m. on Sunday, Diana met him at the front door. The look on her face was anything but welcoming. In fact, she looked ready to bolt.
Mrs. Matthews rescued them both. She waved from the kitchen, a slotted spoon in her hand. “Come on in, Tripp. You can help Diana set the table while I dish up the veggies.”
“Glad to, ma’am.” Following Diana to the kitchen, Tripp cast a poignant glance toward the family’s freshly cut Christmas tree, a sad reminder he’d never have another Christmas with his mom. “Thanks for having me over. It’s really good to be here again.”
With a kind smile that suggested she’d read his thoughts, Mrs. Matthews handed him a stack of plates. “You’re welcome anytime, Tripp.”
Diana barely looked at him as she gathered up napkins and flatware. “Dining room’s this way.”
“I remember.”
The simple act of arranging place settings on the dining room table seemed to help Diana relax. When she reached past Tripp with a knife and spoon, she stood close enough that he caught the subtle fragrance of lavender.
To break the awkward silence, he asked, “How’s it going with the therapy pets?”
“Pretty good. We visited the assisted-living center again last weekend.”
Tripp released a gentle laugh. “I’ll never forget the look on your great-aunt’s face when she saw all those dogs for the first time. The therapy pets are going to be real blessings to all the residents.”
“I hope so.” Diana inhaled a shaky breath. “I should ask what else Mom needs help with. Dad’s roasting chickens on the grill. Why don’t you go ask when the meat will be ready?”
“Uh, okay. Sure.” Tripp disguised a nervous gulp, knowing if he really wanted to make up for lost time, convincing Diana’s father of his honorable intentions was as good a place as any to begin.
Stepping onto the patio, he tried hard to keep his tone friendly and light. “Hey, Mr. Matthews, how’s it going?”
“Thought I heard you drive up earlier.” Diana’s father opened the grill, releasing a burst of flavorful aromas that made Tripp’s stomach growl in anticipation. “Chickens look done. Pass me that platter.”
So Mr. Matthews wasn’t in the mood for conversation, and Tripp couldn’t help being relieved. The business of getting the meat to the table had saved them both from an uncomfortable father-to-hopefully-future-son-in-law interrogation. Tripp could wait for the next one until he’d actually slipped the engagement ring on Diana’s finger—a day he prayed would be soon in coming. But first, he had to find a way to assure her he was in this for the long haul and would never let her down again.
The dinner was every bit as good as Tripp remembered from when he’d dated Diana in college. He appreciated Mrs. Matthews’s frankness in questioning him about his dietary restrictions. Apparently, Diana had prepared her, because he could eat just about everything on the menu without hesitation, and he savored every bite.
Afterward, he offered to help with kitchen cleanup. Once all the leftovers had been put away, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews excused themselves to the family room, leaving Tripp and Diana with the dishes. The intimacy of working alongside her like this—Tripp rinsing plates and handing them to Diana to set in the dishwasher—brought back all kinds of pleasant memories from their college dating days, along with dreams of many similar days to come.
“This is nice,” he murmured, his hand brushing hers.
“Mmm-hmm,” she replied without looking up.
He handed her another plate but didn’t let go. “Di,” he said, waiting for her to meet his gaze. When she did, tension lines radiated from the corners of her eyes. With a tender smile, he reclaimed the plate and set it on the counter, then took both her hands in his. “This is the best day I’ve had in a long time. Please tell me there can be more.”
Pulling away, Diana backed up a step and folded her arms. “What do you want me to say, Tripp? That all is forgiven and I’m fine with spending the rest of my life worrying about whether you’ll end up in the hospital again? Or—or maybe even—”
The intensity of her response caught him off guard. Stunned, he reached out to enfold her against his chest, holding her close until she stopped resisting. “Yes, Crohn’s can be a miserably annoying condition, and there are bound to be setbacks. But it’s not a death sentence. I know what I need to do to keep it under control.”
“I’m overreacting, I know.” Slowly, hesitantly, her arms tightened around his torso. “I just can’t lose you again.”
The desperately sweet sound of those words wrapped around his heart and squeezed. “I’m not going anywhere.” Cupping her cheek, he tilted her head and lowered his lips to hers in a kiss he hoped would convey the depth of his love and his enduring commitment to making a life with her. Ending the kiss, he smiled down at her. “Do you believe me now?”
Tears filled her eyes. “I want to, more than anything.”
“Then take a leap of faith with me. Let’s spend the rest of our lives making up for what we’ve been missing out on since I got stupid and scared and let you go.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
Tripp thumbed a droplet from her cheek. “It could be...if you’d let it.”
She pulled out of his arms and turned away. “I don’t know if I’m ready. I...I’m still sorting things out.”
“I’ll wait as long as it takes.” Knowing there was nothing more he could say, Tripp slipped out. After offering Diana’s parents his sincere thanks for dinner, he s
aid goodbye.
As he drove down the lane toward the main road, an idea began to form. He just might know a way to convince Diana once and for all that he was here to stay.
* * *
Over the following week, Diana heard nothing from Tripp. Had she been too adamant about needing more time? If so, he’d taken her at her word, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Because the bald truth was she missed him. Missed him terribly.
Besides, after those moments of closeness they’d shared at her parents’ last Sunday, she thought for sure he’d stop in or at least call. If they really did have hopes of restoring their relationship, a little more communication might be in order.
Where was he?
When he didn’t show up for church Sunday morning, Diana’s doubts increased. Catching Marie Peterson after worship, she nonchalantly asked about Tripp.
“Oh, far as I know, he’s just fine.” Marie glanced around distractedly. “I know he’s been busy catching up on work at the clinic. Also mentioned he had some business to attend to this weekend.”
“Business? Like, out of town?”
“Could be.” Waving at her husband, Bryan, across the foyer, Marie excused herself. “Got a roast in the oven, sweetie. Don’t want to burn the house down.”
“Of course. Don’t let me keep you.” Watching the plump woman hurry away, Diana had the distinct impression she’d just been given the brush-off.
Was Tripp keeping more secrets from her—and enlisting the aid of his landlady to cover for him? Diana did a slow boil as she marched out to her car. Apparently, the man had learned nothing about the cost of not being honest.
It wasn’t until late Sunday afternoon that Tripp finally called.
“Where have you been all week?” Diana’s effort to keep the peevishness out of her tone had failed.
“Busy with patients, mostly. And I’m still supposed to be taking it easy, so lots of naps and early bedtimes.”
Slightly mollified, she drew her lower lip between her teeth. “Well, it’s good to know you’re taking care of yourself.”
“I really want to see you, though. Any chance you’re free for dinner tonight?”
Tiger crawled into Diana’s lap, circled three times, then plopped down and began purring. “Well, I don’t know,” she grumbled, stroking the big cat’s head. “I might have had a better offer by now.”
“Rain check, then?” The flippant tone of his voice infuriated her. “Give me a buzz when you’re free.”
“Tripp Willoughby! I’m sitting here on my sofa in ratty sweats, and you should know perfectly well I have no better plans than microwaving leftovers and dining with three cats, a rabbit and a parakeet.”
“So can I pick you up in an hour?”
If not for yearning so badly to see him, she’d give him an earful about his presumptuous attitude and then hang up. “Okay, fine. But only because it’ll be a lot more satisfying to chew you out in person for ignoring me for an entire week.”
He chuckled softly. “If you still feel like that two hours from now, I will humbly oblige.”
Two hours from now? What could he possibly have up his sleeve? With a gruff goodbye, Diana nudged the cat off her lap and went to change into clean jeans and a sweater. After freshening her makeup, she tried three different hairstyles before settling on wearing it loose. She spent another ten minutes deciding whether to wear her new brown boots with the legs of her jeans tucked inside or pulled down over the top. Tucked inside won out. She decided it made her look more assertive—and where Tripp was concerned, she needed every ounce of fortitude she could muster.
She’d just given the pets their supper when the doorbell rang. Drawing several long, slow breaths, she took her time in answering. Tripp had made her wait for an entire week. He could stand to cool his heels on her front porch for a couple of minutes.
When she opened the door to his apologetic grin as he clutched a bouquet of fragrant flowers in bright, Christmasy colors, her resolve crumbled. “For me?” she asked, and then wanted to kick herself for sounding like a simpering female.
“No,” he replied with a completely straight face, “I brought them for Alice. Thought she’d like munching on them.”
Diana’s mouth fell open. “Tripp—”
“I’m serious.” He pointed at the various flowers in the bouquet. “Daisies, roses, pansies—rabbits love these. And I checked with the florist. No harmful chemicals.”
“Um, okay...” Brows in a twist, Diana reached for the bouquet.
He didn’t let go. His grin returned, while his eyes softened into a look that weakened her knees. “I’m kidding. These are totally for you.”
“Ever the practical joker, aren’t you?” With a quick shake of her head, Diana seized the flowers and spun on her boot heel before Tripp could notice the effect he was having on her. “Come on in. I need to find a vase.”
Once she’d placed the flowers in water and set the vase on the kitchen table, she retrieved her purse and jacket. “So. Where are we having dinner?”
“We’ll get to that.” Tripp paused on the front step while she locked her door. “There’s one stop I want to make on the way.”
Diana didn’t have much choice except to go along with whatever Tripp had planned. She sat stiffly in the passenger seat of his SUV and tried not to be obvious as she noted the route he took. After reaching Main Street, instead of heading downtown or toward the highway to Fredericksburg, he wound through another residential area.
Finally, her curiosity got the best of her. “I don’t know of any restaurants around here. Care to clue me in?”
At that moment, Tripp pulled up in front of a ranch-style brick house with a white porch rail. The house looked empty, and a For Sale sign stood near the curbside mailbox. Tripp shut off the engine and pushed open his door. He cast Diana an enticing smile. “I’ve got the key. Want to go inside and look around?”
She glanced from Tripp to the sign and back again. “You’re buying a house?”
“The owners accepted my offer on Friday.”
“You’re buying a house.”
“I think you just said that.” Rolling his eyes, Tripp stepped from the car. He strode around to Diana’s side and helped her to the curb. “The place is structurally sound, but the interior needs updating. I was hoping you could help me with some ideas.”
Still in disbelief, Diana stumbled along beside him as he strode up the front walk. “This is what you’ve been doing all week between patients and naps—house hunting? But Marie Peterson gave me the impression you had business out of town.”
Glancing her way, he wiggled his brows. “Oh, so you cared enough to ask about me?”
“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you can be?”
“You. Several times.”
“Well, it’s no compliment. Seriously.” As they reached the porch, she set her hand on his arm. “Why the sudden rush to buy a house?”
He pulled a key from his pocket, then turned to her with another of those beguiling smiles, this one fraught with meaning. “Because Juniper Bluff is my home now, and I decided it was time for more permanent living arrangements. This town has everything—absolutely everything—I’ve ever wanted in life.”
Diana’s breath grew shallow. “Tripp, I—I can’t—”
“Just come in and tell me what you think.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Our dinner reservations are at six, so we don’t have much time.”
Speechless, Diana followed him through the empty, echoing rooms as he flipped light switches and pointed out various features. It was a nicely arranged house, with small formal areas, a den with a stone fireplace, an eat-in kitchen and three spacious bedrooms. Diana had to agree, though—updates were in order, especially in the straight-from-the-’70s kitchen.
“By the way, I was out of town this weekend,” Tr
ipp confessed. “The owners have agreed to let me move in now and rent until closing, so I drove over to Austin to arrange to get my apartment furnishings out of storage.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” Between the swiftness of Tripp’s decision and the reasons he’d given her, Diana felt like she was still playing catch-up.
The den faced the rear of the house. Tugging on a cord, Tripp drew open the dingy, olive-green drapes covering a sliding patio door. “Nice backyard, don’t you think?”
Diana fanned away a cloud of dust emanating from the drapes before peering through the glass. “Wow, it’s big. A privacy fence, too.”
“Yeah, I thought it would be great for a dog or two...and maybe kids someday.”
The implications of this show-and-tell grew clearer by the moment. “Last time I checked, you didn’t have a dog. As for kids, I didn’t think... I mean, after what Brooke told me while you were in surgery...”
Tripp fingered a lock of hair falling across Diana’s shoulder. “What exactly did she say?”
She couldn’t look at him. “That you were scared of having children because they might inherit the propensity for developing Crohn’s.”
“It’s true, I let the possibility worry me for a long time.” Breathing out softly, he rested his arms across her shoulders and dipped his head until their foreheads touched. “But I had some long talks with my mom during her last days, and then with Dad after my surgery, and it finally sank in that spending my life with the woman I love outweighs every problem we could ever face.”
Emotion tightened Diana’s throat. “When you got sick at the funeral—when I thought I might lose you—” Her eyes pressed shut, she shook her head. “If that happened to one of our children—”
“If, Diana, not when. Genetic predisposition is just a percentage number, not an absolute. And remember, we’ve got God on our side. He’s carried us this far, hasn’t He?” Tilting her chin, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I want a family, Di. I want it more than I ever dreamed possible. And I want it with you.”
