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Mason was sitting on the swing on the front porch as I walked up the driveway with dusk closing in around us. I hadn’t realized how late I stayed at the Adlers tonight.
He was reading something on his phone, the dim glow from the screen lighting up his face. The shadows under his eyes–the same dark brown as mine–and the slightly turned-down line of his mouth made him appear tired. I hoped he was getting enough sleep and taking care of himself.
As I walked up the stairs, Mason put his phone down on the swing next to him and smiled at me.
“Hey, lil sis,” he said, standing up.
“I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” I told him, giving him a hug.
“I knew Mom was in the city at that party this evening, so I figured I’d come by with dinner and we could catch up.”
“Aww, thanks, Mason. I’m so exhausted, I just planned on ordering a pizza,” I said as we walked through the screen door. I paused to hang up my bag on the hook in the entryway and tossed my keys on the table in the ceramic bowl. I had made it for Mom as a Mother’s Day gift in elementary school.
“I also figured I’d crash here tonight, if you and Mom don’t mind. I’m going out for a drink with Tristan and I’ll be driving, so it seems easier.”
“Of course, I don’t think you ever have to ask to stay here. You know where the sheets and towels and everything else is.”
“And I think I did better than pizza,” he said, pointing toward the takeout containers. The smell of chicken curry made my mouth water.
The men in my life were sure pulling out all the food stops today.
“Oh man, that smells so good. It’s my favorite.”
“I know, I thought you'd love it,” he said.
He was right. Another thing I loved was coming home to this house after a long day. My mom was a great amateur decorator, and our home had a lived-in, comfortable atmosphere. You couldn’t help but relax. The layout was similar to William and Grace’s–all the houses in the neighborhood were similar–but ours was much more modern. My mom loved color, and that showed throughout the house. She used a mix of blues, reds, greens, and yellows in a funky and abstract way. A slightly southwestern-inspired pattern covered the hardwood floor in the living room. The blue sofa and large ottoman sat beneath an enormous window, opposite the fireplace with the television mounted above it.
Recently, after an HGTV binge, she decided to paint the kitchen cabinets blue. I thought she was crazy, especially when she said she was going to do it herself. But I had to hand it to her. They looked amazing and went really well with the white granite countertops.
What I loved most about the house was the smell. My mom was a ruthless cleaner and so the house always smelled lightly of citrus from the cleaning products she used.
“Are you and Tristan having a wild night tonight?” I asked Mason as I put a couple of plates on the counter.
“Oh, you know it,” he said, taking a seat on one of the stools. “We're going to tear up Bardstown.”
I could hear the sarcasm in his voice. There once was a time when they really would have wild nights. I remembered a lot of late nights with my mom yelling at Mason after he tried to sneak back in way past curfew. Even in his twenties, he partied a lot. He eventually stopped and seemed pretty tame (or was that lame?) now.
“I didn’t even know Tristan was back in town until I saw him today at the Adlers,” I said. I pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge, and nodded it toward Mason in offering, but he shook his head.
“Yep, I think he’s been here for almost a week,” he said. “He was staying with his parents, but you know how they can be. Rebecca can be difficult, and I totally understand why Tristan can’t stay with them for very long. Even Stephen just shuts up now when his wife is on a rampage.”
Tristan’s parents had been so kind to our family over the years, especially after my father died when I was eight. But no one could deny that they were complex people.
I nodded, as I carried my wineglass and sat next to Mason.
“Especially right now, after his divorce,” Mason continued. The shock of that statement made me nearly spit out the sip of wine I had just taken. Divorced? Tristan?
“It seems his parents aren’t really happy that he and Regina split up, and I feel for him. He’s just trying to do what’s best for his own family, and it’s hard when there’s pushback.” Mason was completely unaware of how this information completely shifted my entire universe.
“He’s divorced? How sad,” I said, trying not to sound excited about the news. I mean, it really was sad. Especially for Shiloh. How hard that must have been for her.
But not-so-deep-down, I was glad, no, ecstatic, that he was single.
It made me rethink his flirting from earlier today. Was he actually trying to come on to me? I assumed it was just Tristan being Tristan, but did he really like me?
“It’s sad, but it’s definitely for the best, and I know Tristan and Regina, his ex-wife, both know that. They've come to terms with the situation and are committed to staying friends for Shiloh's sake. But I think his parents are hoping they’ll get back together.”
“Do you think he’ll get back together with Regina?” I didn’t want to step into any sort of sticky situation among exes that still had feelings.
