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Well, there was plenty of time for that.
Tristan spent the afternoon outside with Mathew, letting him play in the snow on their day off. While his son made snow angels and threw snowballs, Tristan’s thoughts drifted to the way it felt to hold Dianna in his arms.
It had been perfect.
More than perfect; it just felt right.
He had two options at this point in time. He could ruin his day by worrying about Dianna and what she might be going through, or he could trust her and enjoy the time he had with Mathew until she came back.
“Dad!” Mathew hurried over. “Did you see how far I threw that snowball?”
Tristan smiled. “Sure did, kiddo.”
“Do you think Miss Dianna will play with me outside when she comes?”
“Probably not unless you want to skip decorating cookies.”
Mathew’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No. I want to decorate cookies.”
Tristan looked down at his watch. “It’s getting pretty late. How about we head inside and I’ll start making dinner.”
“Can we have mac and cheese?”
“’Fraid not. I think Miss Dianna would prefer eating something different.”
Mathew pouted. “But I don’t want something else.”
“I know. Remember when we had that talk about making sure our guests feel welcome?”
“Yeah,” Mathew mumbled.
“Well, what do you think Miss Dianna would want?” Tristan could sense Mathew’s frustration bubbling. He’d be really narrow on his choice of food lately. The kid could eat macaroni and cheese for a whole month straight and not get tired of it.
“Mac and cheese.”
Tristan chuckled. “Tell you what, I’ll make some mac and cheese for you just this once, and if Miss Dianna wants to eat it with her dinner, she can make that decision.”
Mathew’s whole body relaxed and he smiled. “She will. I know it.”
“Well, how about you help me come up with something that she might like to eatwithit.”
His son cocked his head and his eyes drifted to something in the distance. “I know! How about a cheese quesadilla?
Tristan grimaced. “How about steak?”
Mathew wrinkled his nose. “Yuck.”
Tristan sighed. “Eventually, you’re going to have to try something new.”
He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head.
Tristan ruffled his hair, then motioned toward the cabin. “Come on. Let’s get you warm. Maybe you could draw a picture for Dianna. I bet she’d like that.”
* * *
A soft knockat the door tore Tristan’s gaze from the skillet he was cooking at. “Mathew! Will you get the door?”
Mathew jumped off the couch and hustled to the door. He pulled open the door and disappeared as he launched himself outside.
