Next time I saw either of my parents, they were going to get an earful. I’d never truly stood up to them before. They somehow always managed to convince me things would change, and nearly a dozen years later, they were the same as they had been when I was the twins’ age. It wasn’t fair to any of us.
Molly pulled back and clutched her sister’s hand. “We’re sorry the lady had to call you in from work. We tried to be brave, but it was so dark, and we kept hearing creepy noises, and we got scared.”
“You don’t have to apologize for calling me, sweetheart. You did the absolute right thing. It’s not safe for you two to be home alone. You don’t worry about work; that’s my job. Now, let’s get you two dressed for the day, get some breakfast, and maybe we’ll go down to the park?”
Their eyes brightened. “Will you push us on the swings?” Molly asked.
“Of course, sweetheart. Now, do you two want pancakes or scrambled eggs?”
The time at the park helped us all unwind and take some space from the stress. I’d texted and called both of my parents about a dozen times but without any answer aside from the one hangup from my mom. It was a fruitless endeavor, but, for the first time, I wasn’t sure what to do.
I didn’t want to think about it too directly, but I knew this could be considered child abandonment. Taking custody of the girls had always been at the back of my mind, a seed of doubt I’d never really nurtured. Perhaps it was time to fertilize that seed and put it in some fresh air with a little sunlight. Maybe it would wither and die, but…maybe it would bloom.
It did my heart some good after the stress the night before to see them laughing and playing, seemingly worry-free for now. All I knew was I didn’t want them to grow up like I had—too soon. They deserved to have a childhood, to worry about kid issues—not whether we had electricity or hot water or enough money for groceries. Sometimes I felt like I was failing them because supporting the household wasn’t without struggle but seeing them laugh and smile made it worth it. I was starting to think that maybe having our parents around them did more harm than good.
Taking legal custody of them had always been a terrifyingly permanent solution, one I wasn’t sure I was totally ready for, but maybe it was time. What would happen the next time my parents abandoned them? What if they got hurt, or sick, or—God forbid—died because of their negligence?
I couldn’t bear the thought.
For the time being, I pushed it to the back of my mind. Surely, with some time, my parents would be back, and everything would go back to normal. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was all I knew.
If they didn’t come back…well, I’d deal with that when the time came.
I had my plate full enough as it was. Work had given me a couple of days to get my bearings, and I’d emailed my professors, who were being lenient. Things would have to eventually go back to normal—whatever that meant.
The girls were settled in front of the TV watching Mulan, which allowed me a moment to rest. It felt like I had been going nonstop ever since I’d gotten the phone call from Lennox. I had my feet propped up on the couch and was considering what I’d make for dinner when I received the first text. My heart spiked for a moment, thinking it could be Chris.
The spike of adrenaline eased somewhat when I saw Tripp’s name. Relieved, I unlocked my phone.
TRIPP: How are the monsters?
I smiled at my phone. The one bright spot throughout everything, besides the girls themselves, was Tripp. I didn’t know what I’d do without him.
ME: Terrorizing the village. We just got back from the park. Almost time for dinner.
Now that the apartment was relatively silent, it gave me way too much time to think. With the go, go, go of the past twenty-four hours, the breakup with Chris had been pushed to the bottom of my list of worries. As the quiet began to seep into my bones while the girls watched the movie, the self-doubt and sorrow began to creep back in.
Was it wrong of me to lean on Tripp when I was feeling so alone? I wasn’t sure. He’d wanted to go out with me when we’d first met, just after the girls were born, but it hadn’t been the right time. Besides, what kind of eighteen-year-old would have wanted to be saddled with a girlfriend who had twin babies?
Not that a girlfriend is what hotshot Tripp Wilder would have wanted at the time.
No, he should be with someone who didn’t have the strings I did. That’s why I had turned him down back then, and it was probably why I was so keen on dating Chris long distance. And look how that turned out.
TRIPP: It’s Taco Tuesday!!!
I snorted but didn’t immediately reply. Normally, Charlie, Layla, and I got together to unwind with tequila and girl time on Tuesdays. Then Liam had joined. And then Dash. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that we would be getting together with everything that had been going on. It reminded me that I would need to update them on my parents, but I wasn’t sure how to tell them. They didn’t have perfect home lives, but they’d had enough drama of their own for so long that they didn’t need mine, too.
ME: I can’t leave the kids and I’m not up for a big crowd right now. Sry. Maybe next week.
Plus, I wasn’t able to face Charlie and Layla yet. They’d been telling me for a long time that Chris wasn’t worth the trouble. I hadn’t wanted to listen. The last thing I needed to hear was I told you so.
However, a healthy dose of tequila sounded like heaven.
Less than a minute later, I received another text.
TRIPP: Just you and me and the kids. I’ll get the shit for virgin daiquiris for them. You have the stuff for tacos? Participation isn’t optional, angel.
Was this taking advantage of him? It felt like I was flirting with the line of propriety. I knew how he felt about me, and I valued him as a friend. Now more than ever, I didn’t want to lose him.
I typed out a text to alleviate my guilt somewhat.
ME: You really don’t have to do that.
I was more relieved than I should have been when I got his next text. It was really selfish of me to accept his generosity, but a huge part of me didn’t want to be alone now, either. And Tripp was always so good at cheering me up. I’d just need to be careful to make sure we kept everything platonic.
TRIPP: All I heard was ‘Yes Tripp.’ I’ll see you at six.
I snorted and texted him my excuses again, but he didn’t answer—and likely wouldn’t. There was no talking Tripp out of something once he’d made up his mind. Locking him out wouldn’t work either. He had a key for emergencies.
ME: Fine. I’ll make tacos. But I’m putting guacamole on every single one of them to spite you.
He sent kissy faces in return to let me know he didn’t take me seriously. While the girls played quietly—a miracle in and of itself—I pushed myself to my feet and retrieved the things I’d need to make tacos. I always had the ingredients on hand because they were my favorite. I liked to pin it on the girls, but I’d eat them all day every day if it were up to me.
As the meat sizzled in the pan, I grated cheese and chopped up tomatoes, avocados, and lettuce for the toppings. This simple routine, like going to the park, kept me from thinking too deeply about my problems. Tripp’s text had come at the perfect time and had kept me from sinking into a world-class sulk.
If my heart thrilled a little when he knocked on the door, it was only because I was excited for tacos, not because I was excited to see him in any way other than as a friend.
Tillie and Molly squealed in excitement, launched themselves from their place on the floor, and threw their arms around Tripp’s middle.
“Tripp!” they shouted in unison.
“You’d think I was chopped liver,” I muttered as I wiped my hands and joined them in the living room.
“Oh no,” Trip said, overhearing my comment. “You’ve already perfected the art of mom guilt.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny. You two go wash your hands. It’s time for dinner.”
“What are we having?” asked Molly
.
“Tacos,” I answered.
They shrieked again and ran down the hall, their footsteps echoing behind them.
“They don’t take after you at all,” Tripp said.
“Shut up. How was practice?”
He brought the bags into the kitchen and started mixing the ingredients for the drinks as I plated the tacos and toppings on the table. Lifting a shoulder, he said, “It wasn’t too bad. They released the schedule for this year. First game is in February, a double-header against Maine.”
Tripp didn’t like to talk about baseball with me too much. I didn’t mind. It wasn’t exactly my milieu, but I was always a little curious about that side of his life. The side where he traveled across the U.S. pitching for a championship team, being fawned over by stick-thin coeds with lives as apple pie as his.
I knew he went undrafted out of high school, and that he was now one of the top picks for professional ball after graduation. I had to admit it made me a little sad to think of him leaving in a few months for the big time. Not because I was jealous of the fame and fortune, but because I’d grown so accustomed to having him as a part of my life.
I wished it hadn’t taken me until now to figure that out. I was quiet during dinner, but Tripp was kept busy enough helping me wrangle the twins.
Yeah, I was going to be sad when he left.
To the rest of the world, he was a nationally ranked baseball superstar, but to me, he was so much more.
Chapter Six
Tripp
I was glad when Ember changed the subject away from practice and ball. I wasn’t interested in talking about it. Everyone seemed to want a piece of me when it came to baseball. Ember never did. She always saw me as me. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t stay away when we first met. She was the only person who ever thought of my “stardom” as a non-issue.
“How are you feeling?” I asked as the twins helped clear off the table. “You hear anything from that douchebag?”
“What’s a douchebag?” Molly piped up.
I winced. “Nothing, sweetheart. I made it up.”
“Good one,” Ember said with a snort.
“I aim to please.”
She sighed heavily and lowered her voice so the twins couldn’t hear. “I blocked him everywhere. I don’t plan on giving him the opportunity.”
I bit my tongue, then asked, “What about your parents?”
“Nothing there either. It’s not going to give a girl abandonment issues at all.”
“Lucky for you, you’re never getting rid of me.”
“Pfft. You’re leaving at the end of the year when you move on to play pro ball.” She shoved my shoulder jokingly, but there was a thread of real concern in her voice. I tried not to read too much into it. She was hurting and probably feeling a little alone.
“Maybe I’ll invite you to one of my games when I go pro. You can always come out and watch, you know.”
My hope was to be drafted to the Orlando Falcons once I graduated, but I’d be happy anywhere. Except getting drafted to a team across the country would mean leaving my family and Ember. Playing ball was all I had ever wanted, and she was the only person who’d ever made me second-guess my dreams. Though she’d kill me if she ever knew that. She’d given up her aspirations of being a doctor to take care of her family. If she ever thought I’d give up pro ball to be here with her, she’d skin me alive.
“Can we come, too?” Tillie asked, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation.
I lifted her up and spun her around. “Of course you can. I can’t play without my favorite cheerleaders.”
“Me, too?” Molly asked eagerly. Her wide, innocent eyes were exactly the same color as Ember’s.
After ruffling her hair, I knelt down to her level, her sister still on my hip. “Of course, short stuff.” I glanced up at Ember, who seemed relaxed for the first time since all that shit had gone down. “All of you.”
Ember helped the twins with their nighttime routine after they had thoroughly decimated their tacos and virgin daiquiris—which they called slushies. Their voices trailed from the hallway down to where I was cleaning up in the kitchen, making me smile. I was an only child, and while my parents had been attentive and loving, there had never been any other kids to play with when I was younger. My life growing up had often been solitary. I had to admit it was nice to have their noise and clutter around. It was like a constant hug.
“Tripp!” came a high-pitched call. “Come here.”
“Almost done,” I answered.
“We want you to read us a story,” came another voice.
“I’m sorry,” said Ember as she appeared at the end of the hall. “I tried to convince them I was perfectly capable of reading a story, but they want you. According to Molly, you do the voices the best. There wasn’t any telling them different.”
I dried my hands on a dishtowel and put the leftovers in their Tupperware containers in the fridge. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind at all.”
She retrieved her daiquiri and drank deeply despite all the ice being melted. “Proceed at your own risk,” she warned. “They seem like they’re nice little girls, but they can be pretty demanding.”
Ember screeched when I flicked the dishtowel at her legs. “Sounds like they take after their big sister.”
“Hey!” she protested behind my back.
I laughed on the way down the hall to the room she shared with the twins. That’s another thing I admired about her. She didn’t have anything of her own and didn’t whine about not having any luxuries. She even shared her room with the twins without complaint.
Somehow, they’d managed to cram a small set of second-hand twin bunk beds in the tiny space along with a large dresser and double bed for Ember. Her bed was technically a mattress on the floor. She’d admitted to me that when the twins outgrew their cribs, she’d sold them and her bed frame in order to get their bunk beds.
“They deserve to have as normal a life as possible,” she’d explained when I asked why she was sleeping on a mattress.
It never ceased to amaze me how she did without when other women her age always seemed to want more—especially from me.
“Tripp!” the twins greeted. They were both snuggled together on the bottom bunk in matching, albeit slightly small, cartoon pajamas.
Molly held out a book. “Here, read this one,” she said.
Goodnight Moon.
My mom had read this to me when I was younger. I wondered who had read it to Ember? Somehow, I couldn’t see either of her parents reading her a bedtime story.
The twins made room for me to sit beside them, and damned if it didn’t make my heart melt the way they had their arms wrapped around each other. How their parents could fail so spectacularly when they had such wonderful children, I didn’t know.
I began to read, and by the end, their eyes were already drooping. “Again!” they demanded. I didn’t mind. At the end of the second read through, they were fast asleep. I carefully got to my feet and tucked their blanket around them. They were still snuggled together, inseparable even though they could each have their own bed.
“They do that so easily for you,” Ember complained from the doorway. She must have snuck up during the second read-through. “They always fight sleep when it’s me.”
“It’s my charming demeanor,” I told her.
“Right,” she drawled. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be out somewhere on a date or something?”
“And miss Tequila Tuesday? Not a chance.”
“I thought it was Taco Tuesday this time?” she said quizzically.
“That was for the girls. I brought the tequila for grown-up time.”
She smiled, but it faltered. “You could always go now,” she said softly.
I snorted and went to the counter to make more drinks, this time with margarita mix and a healthy dose of tequila. I thought we both needed it. “There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be,” I said.
She shook her head but
accepted the drink I handed her. “I don’t get you.”
“What’s there to get? I’m not a complicated man.”
A blush painted her cheeks. “Never mind.” She drank deeply from her margarita. I tried not to stare at the way her tongue flicked out to lick away the salt on the rim of the glass.
Instead of thinking about it, I mixed up my own and did the same.
Two hours later, I realized my mistake.
I should have left them after dinner, gone back to my apartment, and locked the door behind me. That would have been the smart option. But no, now I was stranded in my own special version of hell.
Ember stripped off the t-shirt she was wearing over a camisole. It wasn’t a designer label—Ember dressed more for comfort than for style, but she could have worn a potato sack and looked sexy as hell. I drank thirstily to keep from staring too hard.
“I thought I was a good girlfriend,” she was saying. “I helped with his schoolwork. I treated him to dinner when he visited or when I went down to visit him. I took care of presents for his mom and sisters when it was their birthday or his parents’ anniversary. I always helped tidy and organize his place when I stayed over. I don’t get it. I thought he loved me.”
The raw pain in her voice chilled all the heat I’d been stewing in ever since I had made our fourth round of margaritas. I shook my head to clear away the thoughts of her stripping off the rest of her clothes.
Get it together, Wilder.
“You know I’ve never thought highly of Chris. He was never good enough for you. So take my opinion with a grain of salt. It sounds like you mothered him. Not that it’s an excuse for what he did to you. But a man should be able to take care of his own shit, not make you do it.”
Friends with Benefits (Friend Zone Series Book 3) Page 4
