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Knowing Tripp, I have no doubt he’s legitimately concerned about the well-being of my penis. But I suspect that pales in comparison to what’s really going on in his head, and this little rant is his way of coping with whatever’s on his mind.
“Are you having second thoughts about moving in?” I ask.
“What?” He feigns ignorance.
“You’re rambling even more than usual. Why are you freaking out?”
“The fact that you know I’m freaking out, for starters,” he mumbles.
“And?” I take a seat on the bed and pull him onto my lap.
Tripp rests his head on my chest, I think so he doesn’t have to look at me. “Since running into my parents, I’ve been remembering little things about living with them. Like how they’d complain that I was too loud. Or too messy. Or always in the way. And I know that I was probably just a normal kid and not doing anything wrong, but… I haven’t lived with anyone since then…”
“You’re worried I might say the same things?” I rub my hand along his spine.
“Yeah. And I know that’s stupid because I’ve been staying with you for a month already and you haven’t said anything like that, but if you did I could always come back here.”
I kiss the top of his head. “And you’re afraid of not having a place to retreat to if something goes wrong.”
He relaxes against my chest. “Yeah.”
“You know moving in with me doesn’t mean you have to give this place up. I never want you to feel trapped.”
“I don’t feel trapped. Not consciously. And this sucks because I know you’re nothing like them, but their shit keeps popping into my head.”
In some ways I get what Tripp’s going through. Every once in a while I’ll remember something about my parents out of the blue, and it’ll paralyze me. The difference is those memories are happy, and the paralysis is almost welcome because it forces me to relive a good time in my life. It keeps me from forgetting them. In Tripp’s case the memories are traumatic, and the paralysis is borne of fear of being abandoned or homeless. I don’t know how to help him get through that except to give him time and space. And if the space part of that equation is keeping this condo, even if that’s just a mental security blanket, I’ll give that to him. With a twist.
“What if you give this place to Rose?”
“Like put it in her name?” Tripp sits up straight, glancing at me with the softer expression I’m starting to see more and more of.
“If you want. Or leave it in your name but have her move in. Either way, it’ll be here if you need it, so you never have to worry about not having somewhere to go.”
“She does deserve a place of her own after all the shit she put up with from my parents.”
“What sort of shit was that?”
Tripp fiddles with a hangnail as he answers. “Emotional abuse mostly, same as me. Telling her her work wasn’t good enough, that she cooked things wrong, that it was her fault I was a handful. I always wondered why she put up with it. I know now she stayed because of the green card thing, at least after they kicked me out, but before that I think she stayed for me.” He brings his glassy eyes to mine, and I wrap him in my arms.
“So, what do you think?” I sift my fingers through his hair to comfort him. “Keep this as a safe place for the two of you?”
“I think we’d both like that.”
“We’ll make it happen, then.”
Tripp pulls back and places the sweetest kiss on my lips. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“So.” A sly smile spreads across his face. “Where did we land on the whole pool thing?”
I lift him off my lap and playfully smack his ass. “Finish packing. Then maybe we’ll talk.”
“Yes, Daddy.” He quips, and I can’t even correct him since he’s too fucking cute.
Chapter 24 - Tripp
The bell echoes on the other side of the door, and while I wait for the judge–Uncle Callahan–to answer. I briefly wish I’d taken Noah up on his offer to come with me, but he has practice, and deep down I know this is something I need to do on my own.
